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A fleeting, very fucking telling look of panic washes across her blotchy face before she turns into Hulk with me. “You’ve been through my bag?” she shrieks. It’s fucking ridiculous. I’ve been going through her bag regularly since I met her. Her bag, her phone, and in this moment, when my fucking life is literally hanging in the balance waiting for some suave Dane to sweep on in and pull the rug from under my besotted feet, I couldn’t give a flying fuck. I don’t answer her, just wave the paper more, reminding her that this isn’t about my bad bag manners and everything about the fact that she thought she could elope to Sweden with an archenemy.
But she doesn’t know he’s an archenemy, bro. Because you haven’t fucking told her.
I mentally tell Jake to shut the fuck up and watch his fucking mouth. The fact Van Der Haus is an enemy isn’t the point. I wouldn’t be all too tickled pink about her going anywhere with any man. Least of all him. Over my dead fucking body.
Could happen, bro. You’re gonna give yourself a fucking heart attack at this rate.
Why the hell does he deem it appropriate to infiltrate my head at the most inappropriate times? If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he’s sadistically adding to my grievances, purposely reminding me of all the things I have to feel guilty about. But I do know him. He’s just trying to be my brother. Jesus, he would have grown into a sarcastic fucker.
I’m suddenly knocked out of Ava’s way as she stomps off, and I’m in quick pursuit. I want answers. I follow her down the steps, my lungs screaming for some respite, and endure the filthiest of looks as she swipes her bag from the floor and carries it into the kitchen.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell, following her. She smashes her bag on the island and starts rummaging through. Is there more in there she needs to hide from me? “It’s not in there, it’s here. You are not fucking going to Sweden or Denmark or any fucking where, for that matter.” Let’s be clear on that.
She turns seething eyes onto me, her mouth straight and tight. “Don’t go through my bag.”
“Why, what else are you hiding from me?” I discard the paper and move away, truly concerned she might swing for me.
“Nothing,” she shouts, her fists clenching the leather and squeezing, slamming it down again. She’s imagining the bag’s me.
“Let me tell you something, lady.” I risk getting closer, since she’s using her handbag as her outlet for now. I push my face close to hers, hoping she feels the white-hot anger. “I will die before I let you leave the country with that womanizing prick.”
“He won’t be coming!”
The bag gets another brutal beating, and I laugh on the inside. “Yes, he will. He’ll follow you there, trust me. He’s relentless in his pursuit of women.” Is she that fucking naïve? Clearly she is, which is why it’s crucial I keep her out of the reach of that bastard’s charms. Next, he’ll be inviting her to stay at his swanky Scandinavian home. Taking her skiing. For dinner. Will she try to convince mehe’s just a clientthen?
“Just like you?” she asks over a laugh, and I frown, rewinding back through the conversation. Relentless. Pursuit. Is she insinuating I’m like Van Der Haus? That I’d cheat on my wife? If I had one.
Jake clears his throat in heaven.Fuck off!“That was different.” Lord, someone find me some calm before I explode.
“You’re impossible.”
No, not me. Us. We’re impossible, because she will never understand. “And what are you doing taking vitamins?” I ask, keen to get to the bottom of that matter too. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
She jerks back, like she’s been hit with an arrow, her questioning face somewhere between disbelief and rage. She moves fast, hauling something at my head.Fuck.I dodge the flying object, looking behind me when it crashes into the wall, missing my head by a whisker.
“I bought the vitamins for you,” she screams, pulling my eyes back to her. She’s seriously lost the plot.
“Why?”
“You put your body through the mill,” she says, breathless. “Have you forgotten?”
Forgotten? No, I’m still fucking suffering for it. I clench my battered hand and scowl. “I don’t need pills, Ava,” I say, incensed. She thinks a few pills can fix me? How many fucking times do I need to tell her? There’s only one thing in this word that can fix me, and she seems determined to break me more. “I’ve told you.” I take hold of her hands, pulling her close, and she breathes into my face, her head retracting back, her eyes darting. “I am not a fucking alcoholic,” I say calmly. “If I drink now, it will be becauseyoumake me crazy mad.”
“You blame this all on me,” she whispers, and I flinch, ashamed, releasing her and walking a few paces away.
“No, I don’t.” It’s everyone, not just her. “What else are you keeping from me?” I ask. “Business trips with rich Danish men? Cozy visits to the ex-boyfriend?”
“Cozy?” She more or less chokes. “You stupid fucking man.”
“Mouth!”
“Get lost!” Her words are hissed, her face red, her tone truly venomous. Clearly, I’m not going to get an answer. Clearly, she thinks there’s nothing wrong with leaving the country with another fucking man. I can’t deal with this kind of irrationality. I feel volatile. Unhinged. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to be my cure, but all I’m feeling is agony again, and I can’t even fucking mask it with a drink.
“I can’t be around you right now,” I yell, feeling helpless. Hopeless. “I fucking love you, Ava. So fucking much, but I can’t look at you.” I have to leave. Get away from her, and that’s something Ineverdreamed I’d feel. “This is fucked up.” I walk out, slam the door, and call the elevator.
My foggy vision clears long enough for me to see the state of the man in the reflection of the doors.
Before I put my fist into his face on a roar.
