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“So, what then? You’re just going to be miserable forever? Let his death hang over your head like a black cloud for the rest of your life? Can’t you see how unhealthy that is? Do you really think that’s what he would’ve wanted?”
I glare at him. “Oh, please. What doyouknow about what he would’ve wanted?”
He sits on our bed, holding his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this. He’s dead and he’s still causing fucking problems for us. Is this what our future is going to be? Constantly fighting over this? Because if so, I can see why fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce.”
Okay, ouch.Throwing the idea of divorce in my face while I’m grieving isnotokay. But if he wants to use words as weapons, I can throw them right back. “Hey, you were the one who was alllet’s get the government involved in our relationship.”
“And I wouldn’t trade it for a goddamn thing!”
Scoffing, I put a hand on my hip. “Let’s not kid ourselves here. You and I got married for two totally different reasons. Me because I’ve been in love with you for years, and you because the sex is good. What did Cam call it? Pussy on demand?”
It’s a low blow—one I know has no truth to it, but it hits its target dead on. He stands up and stalks toward me, looking angry and pained all at once. I hold my head high as he stands in front of me.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he growls. “There are a lot of things I will tolerate, but you questioning my feelings for you or the dire need to spend the rest of my life waking up beside you isnotone of them.”
The two of us stand there, both furious but also both so fucking scared. And when he finally grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss that’s just as desperate as it is rough, I’m thrown back into everything he is.
My hands grip at his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible as his tongue tangles with my own. He walks me backward until I’m pinned against the wall, and he shoves his hand under my waistband. There’s no teasing as his fingers immediately go for my clit.
I throw my head back as I moan. It’s been too long since I’ve had him like this. Too long since we’ve let each other forget about the world around us and just existed in our own little bubble.
“That’s it, baby,” he says lowly. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
His lips press against my neck as his fingers work their magic. Maybe this is what we needed—to fuck our frustration out on each other and experience that spark we’ve always had.
“Stay here with me,” he tells me. “Show me what a good girl you can be. Let’s get in bed and stay there all day.”
Just like that, it’s like a bucket of ice water is poured over my head. I grab his wrist and pull his hand out from inside my jeans, shoving him away. He hasneverused sex as a tool against me, and I never thought he would, until now.
And judging by the look in his eyes, he knows he fucked up.
“Laiken,” he tries.
But I point at him as he tries to step toward me. “Don’t!”
My blood runs boiling hot as I glare at him, and he looks utterly defeated as he sighs. “I’m just trying to protect you.”
I huff in disbelief. “Why? You said it yourself. Fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce.”
THE BACK PATIO OFMonty’s parents’ house overlooks a large yard that’s perfectly landscaped. The hill it sits on makes it so you can see the ocean out in the distance. I remember thinking how beautiful the view was the first time I saw it, but now, I can’t manage to look at it for longer than a minute.
“It is so nice to see you,” Mrs. Rollins tells me. “How have you been doing?”
I force a smile on my face, knowing there’s no way I can tell her the truth. “I’ve been okay. Not great, but I’m just taking it day by day. How areyou?”
She puts her tea down on the table in front of her. “It’s hard. Parents aren’t meant to outlive their children. But I’m working through it with a grief counselor. I just keep telling myself that Monty would want me to be happy.”
“He would,” I agree with her. “How is Mr. Rollins doing? Is he taking it hard?”
Her lips purse and she looks away. “They were never really close, those two. And the results of the investigation are causing some trouble for him at work. With the upcoming elections, his opponents are latching onto it, claiming heletour son drink underage and drive a boat while intoxicated.”
Great. More guilt to add to the pile.
“That’s horrible. None of this was his fault.”
She smiles sadly. “I know that, dear. Everyone who matters knows that. It was a tragic accident and the result of bad choices on Monty’s part. But you know how politics can be.”
