Frayed Silk(62)

“I had to tell him in person. He …” I close my eyes for a second then reopen them. “He sort of became a friend, Leo.”

He walks up to me, chest heaving as he crowds me into the wall.

“I know about the check,” I blurt, and the stormy expression falls from his face. “He showed me.” I slide passed him to stalk down the hall, turning into the kitchen and snatching it from my handbag. He follows me, leaning against the doorway and tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Here.” I walk over and hold it out to him. “He said to say that he wouldn’t be needing it.” I slap it into his chest when he just stands there.

“Take it!” I demand when he continues to stare at me. It falls to the floor. “A hundred-fucking grand, Leo?”

His top lip curls into a sneer. “You’re mine, Lia. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

My heart pounds furiously as I stare up into his angry eyes. “You can trust me, Leo. I don’t want anyone but you,” I say quietly.

“You sure had a funny way of showing it.” His jaw clenches and he glances away. “If you must know, I sent it last week. After …” He doesn’t finish, doesn’t need to.

“That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better, but okay.”

“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to make you feel better, am I? After I walk into some dump of a hotel room and saw that some asshole was about to fuck my wife?” he growls, and I recoil.

There’s nothing I can really say to that. Nothing. Even if my throat hadn’t closed up thanks to the looming tears that are now gathering in my eyes.

“Tell me, Lia.” He takes a step forward, his nostrils flaring. “Why the fuck you’d see him again if I’m the only one you want?” His voice is deceptively soft, putting me on edge. But I tell him the truth anyway. “Because it felt wrong not to at least say goodbye. He wasn’t some dirty secret of mine, Leo. Like I told you, he was a friend.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Yeah? And what about me, Lia? Did you even stop to think about me?” He slams a fist against his chest, growling, “Did you think about how I’d fucking feel?”

“Yes.” Because I knew he wouldn’t like it. “I’m sorry, but I don’t regret doing it. He deserved to know what was going on.”

He swipes a shaky hand through his hair, exhaling a breath through his nose before turning around and heading for the stairs. “Leo, wait!” I call out.

He doesn’t, and he doesn’t answer me.

Sitting down at the island, I wipe the tears from my face and wonder what the hell I’m supposed to do now.

I can’t let him pull away from me again.

So even though I’m terrified of taking any more blows to my heart, I get up and down a glass of water before going to make sure the house is locked up. But Leo’s already done it. I head upstairs, checking that the kids are asleep, and thank God that they are. I walk into our bedroom, but Leo’s not here. He’s not in the en suite when I walk in there and start brushing my teeth either. After washing my face, I march back down the hall and turn the door handle to the spare room. It’s locked.

“Leo.” I knock lightly on it. “Let me in.”

He ignores me. I lean my head against the door. “Please.”

“No,” he finally replies.

I lift my head. “I’ll sit out here all night, Leo. I’ll damn well sleep out here if I have to.”

“Go to bed, Lia.”

Gritting my teeth together as frustration and fear threaten to take hold, I snap at him, “You’re not shutting me out again. I won’t fucking let you.” I turn on my heel and march back into our room, my heart thumping fast with every step. Grabbing hold of our quilt and a pillow, I tug them out into the hall and drag them to the door of the spare room. Folding it over a few times, I lie down on top of it. If I’m really going to do this, then I’m going to be comfortable, damn it. Well, kind of, I think, as I squirm around and turn onto my side. Shoving the pillow farther under my head, I close my eyes.

I must’ve just fallen asleep when I hear the door open behind me, and Leo cursing as he bends down to pick me up. I wrap my arms and legs around him, rubbing my nose into his neck. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, sleep coating my voice.

He sighs. “You’re gonna have to let go of me if you want me to grab the bedding from the floor.”

“Don’t need it,” I mumble, inhaling his scent.

He shifts me farther up his body before turning and heading back down the hall. He passes me my pillow, and I take it as he grabs the quilt and drags it behind him. After kicking the door closed with his foot, he climbs onto our bed. “You’re not going,” I tell him.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he grumbles. “Fuck me, sleeping on the goddamn floor.”

I smile into his neck, kissing it as he lays down and pulls the quilt over us.

“Give me that.” He takes my pillow from me and puts it on my side of the bed. He rolls to his side and still, I hold him. And he lets me, which I take as a good sign, seeing as if he really didn’t want me to, he has the strength to pluck my arms off him.

“It hurts, Lia,” he says to the top of my head.

Guilt threatens to swallow me whole but I try to push it away. “How can I make it better?” I whisper.