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“But nothing happened. I’m fine,” I blurt out, unable to stop myself.
Finally unable to ignore his concern.
His chest presses into me with another one of his erratic breaths, as he says, “If something had happened to you out here, if you’d gotten hurt, I would’ve lost my fucking mind. I would’ve…” Another clench of his teeth. “I would’ve lost my fucking sanity if you and her… If I lost my family. Again. I would’ve —”
“Your f-family,” I breathe out.
He flinches again.
As if he hadn’t realized that he’d said it. Out loud.
As if he hadn’t realized that he’d exposed a particularly vulnerable nerve in his body. A secret vein in his rapidly beating heart. As if he hadn’t realized that without me having to lift my finger, he’s made it so that I’m touching his pulse.
And I knew it, didn’t I?
I knew his secret wish and that’s why he looks so undone. That’s why he looks so crazy and animalistic.
Beastly and primal.
Under the moonlight.
Because he thought his family was hurt.
“You think I’m your…” I begin but have to take a moment to myself. “I’m your family?”
His chest crashes against mine with the feral breaths he’s taking. “I think that you could be pregnant with my baby and you shouldn’t be running around in the middle of the fucking night when you could injure yourself or get hurt.”
I shake my head, adamant on talking about this. “No, but you j-just said that I’m, that we are —”
He flexes his grip on my wrists again. “If you’re so fucking good at listening to me, then I want you to listen to this: don’t you ever, not fucking ever, do what you did tonight. Don’t you fucking ever put yourself in danger like this.” He stares down at me for a second, then, “Is that fucking clear or do I have to make it clear? And trust me, you’re not gonna like how I do it.”
I should be annoyed at him.
Angry.
For being so high-handed. So dominating and controlling, especially after how I spent the entire day today.
Being tied to his bed.
But I’m not.
What I am though is sad.
So fucking sad because he’s right. To do this I mean.
He’s right to sweep this whole thing under the rug. Because for a moment, I’d forgotten.
I’d forgotten that I can’t be his family.
In fact, I can’t be anything to him.
Not only because I’m going to be someone else’s soon, but also I don’t want to.
Right?
I mean he’s the guy who broke my heart, and while I’ve forgiven him, I haven’t forgotten. I still haven’t forgotten that he has things in his life that are more important to him than me. His ego, his anger, his career. His hatred of my brother still. Just because he’s regretful of how he treated me and because he’s agreed to help me with my dream, doesn’t mean that all of the other things have vanished from between us.
No, they’re still there.
So there’s no use talking about what he’s just revealed.
Actually we should talk about something else. Something even more important.
So fisting my hands, I focus. “Why, is it going to involve ropes again?”
His jaw tics.
“Are you going to tie me up to the bed and keep me here? Against my will.”
Another tic. But then he replies, “Shouldn’t have done that.”
“What?”
His chest crashes with mine again as he breathes deep. “Shouldn’t have tied you up. Shouldn’t have left you there. I was —”
“Jealous,” I complete the sentence for him, trying to sound stern even though a little steam has left my body at such an easy acknowledgment.
“Yes.”
“Because you thought Ezra —”
“Don’t,” he growls, tightening his grip, thrusting his torso into mine “Don’t fucking say his name.”
Despite it being inadvisable, I can’t help but arch my back under him. “I will. If I want to.”
This time his growl comes from the center of his chest, a mean, threatening sound, unaccompanied by words.
“And it’s none of your business.”
“I swear to fucking God, Firefly, if you —”
“No,” I cut him off and even though I hate what I’m going to say next, I still do because it’s the right thing. It’s the only thing to do in the face of his crazy jealousy. The only thing that will get me out of here and away from him. I can’t have him complicating my already complicated life.
“Don’t you see? You can’t get jealous. You have no right to get jealous, Ledger. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your wife. I’m nothing to you.” My throat feels filled with sharp glass. “And after what you did today, I’m also not the mother of your baby. Because we’re not having a baby together. Just because you keep calling me yours doesn’t mean that I am. And I’m allowed to say his name if —”
“Don’t say it,” he warns.
And I’m thankful for it. For his warning, for him cutting me off.
