Stay With Me(13)

Rhys made a sound of impatience. “I try not to remember those days.”

She jerked her gaze back to him to see a deep scowl marring his features. “Why?”

“Because we had nothing,” he gritted out. “Logan and I couldn’t take care of you. You worked too damn hard to support our start-up efforts.”

She smiled gently. “And what do we have now?”

“We have money,” he said bluntly. “We have a nice place to live, the best food to eat. You don’t have to work yourself ragged.”

“I’m not happy,” she said, being equally blunt.

He looked at her in shock, his cheeks losing their color.

“I haven’t been happy in a long time. Too long,” she amended.

“Why?” he asked in a voice that cracked.

Her hand shook as she lowered the glass back to the table. “You don’t love me,” she said softly. “You don’t even know I exist half the time unless it’s to call me and say you can’t make dinner or you’re leaving on a last-minute business trip.”

“We love you, Catherine, and we’re not letting you go without a fight,” Logan said in a grim voice.

She looked up to see him standing a few feet away, partially obscured by the greenery. He stepped forward, his face creased with determination. The waiter, ever solicitous, appeared with another chair that he hastily shoved up to the table. A second waiter appeared to deliver Rhys’ food as Logan took his seat. He waved off a menu and ordered coffee.

“How much did you overhear?” she asked quietly.

“Everything,” Logan bit out. “Every single ridiculous part.”

She raised one eyebrow. “How like you to discount my feelings,” she murmured. “God knows you’ve had enough practice.”

Logan shifted impatiently. “Look, baby, I’m sorry we missed our anniversary dinner, and I’m sorry we cancelled the trip. Sorrier than you know. If there was any way I could have avoided it, believe me I would have.”

She held her hand up, refusing to be swayed by those dark eyes caressing her, his tone low and beseeching.

“Once, I could understand. Hell, a dozen even. But you’ve made it your practice to put me second.” She broke off with an indelicate snort, one that bordered precariously close to tears. “I doubt I rank anywhere as high as second. I’ve spent the last few years begging, craving your time, your love. I’ve been patient. I’ve been understanding. I’ve smiled and nodded when I was screaming on the inside. I accept that it’s my fault. I let it go on way too long, but you know what? I don’t have to do it any longer. You speak of an anniversary dinner and one cancelled trip, and God, I wish that was all it was. Would that it were that simple. You’ve made your lives without me, without regard to my feelings or my wants and needs. Well, it’s time for me to step up and be responsible for my own happiness.”

She stood, no longer able to remain still, to sit there calmly and rationally. She couldn’t pretend to have a civil breakfast conversation when her entire life was falling apart.

“Cat, wait,” Rhys called as she ducked out of the alcove and hurried down the winding paths.

“Catherine, damn it, stop.”

Logan was close. She couldn’t outrun him, but she wouldn’t go meekly to the slaughter. Her spine stiff, she continued at a fast clip until his hand snagged her elbow and pulled her up short.

He yanked her around, pulling her close until she collided with his chest. His other hand cupped her face, and he slanted his lips over hers, drinking deep, tasting her, devouring her like a man starving.

“I won’t let you go,” he vowed. “You can say what you want. You can rail at me. You can hit me, hate me, but I’m never letting you go.”

“You don’t have a choice. You can’t make me love you, Logan.”

It was a sorry thing to say even as angry as she was. Hurt flashed in his eyes, and he looked…devastated. Her heart contracted as he stared at her.

“Are you saying you don’t love me anymore?” he asked in a tight voice.

She closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. “You know I love you.”

“Prove it,” he challenged.

She yanked her arm angrily away from him. “I don’t have to prove anything to you,” she spit out.

“Come back to the room with me and Rhys and listen to what we have to say, Catherine. Give us a chance. Let us try to make you happy again.”

She glanced over his shoulder to see Rhys standing in the pathway, hands shoved into his pants pockets. He looked tired and defeated.

“Please, baby,” Logan said softly. He reached for her hand, curling her fingers into his. His thumb stroked over her palm, and he brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

“No sex,” she said solemnly, knowing damn well they’d both use any means necessary to press their advantage. “Sex won’t fix what’s wrong.”

Logan scowled.

“Talk. You’re supposed to talk to me.” As much as she wanted them to touch her again, to take her, to possess her—she’d spent the last months aching for them to do just that—they had to talk about the problem, not disguise it with sex.

Rhys chuckled in the background, and Logan only scowled harder.