Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
His thumb lightly rubbed my shoulder, bringing my attention back to him. The touch was nice, and I wondered why we didn’t try to have more of these small moments. “Have you eaten anything?”
I realized I hadn’t, not since the protein bar in the morning—despite my intention to gain some weight back. “No, I forgot.”
“You keep forgetting,” he murmured, his voice even lower than usual. My body warmed at the sound. “Do you want me to grab something?”
I quickly shook my head. I didn’t want Maximus to leave. Despite what had happened, I felt safer in his presence than with my changing bodyguards. “I’ll prepare a quick carbonara for us. We have everything we need.”
Maximus lowered his arm. My skin still tingled where he’d touched me. I headed into the kitchen, followed by Maximus, and I grabbed eggs, parmesan, linguine, and pancetta.
“I don’t have guanciale anymore,” I said regretfully as I put the piece of meat on a chopping board and took a knife from the drawer. “But pancetta should do.”
Maximus’s uncomprehending expression revealed he had no clue why it mattered. “It’s both delicious.”
“Mom taught me to prepare carbonara with guanciale, and I prefer it that way.” I got cooking, and the dish was ready to be eaten within fifteen minutes. I loved the easy nature of it. Not everything needed to be complicated and fancy. Sometimes beauty was in simplicity.
Sitting across from each other, Maximus and I dug in. Surprisingly, I managed to eat more now that it seemed to serve a purpose. Well, another purpose except to keep me alive…
“It’s absolutely delicious,” Maximus said as he filled his plate with another serving. I’d quickly learned that he ate for two, which wasn’t surprising considering the muscle mass he had to maintain.
I nodded. “Are you mad that it didn’t work out right away?” I wasn’t sure why I returned to the topic. Maybe because the eating-for-two thought had brought back the reality of my current situation.
Maximus put down his fork and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the situation.”
I pursed my lips, wondering if there really was a difference. “Because it means we’ll have to be intimate again.”
“Because I don’t want a repeat performance of last time.”
I flushed. It had been bad for me, but I hadn’t thought Maximus hated it that much.
I felt mortified, just like I had afterward in the cell when I’d seen Maximus’s disgusted expression. It had reflected the feelings I harbored for myself at that moment.
I ran my finger along the rim of the plate, trying to compose myself.
I really wished Sara wouldn’t have brought it up again. I wished she were pregnant and we could move on.
“Once I’m pregnant, you won’t have to touch me again.”
Half the time, Sara’s words didn’t make sense to me. I could tell she was upset, though. She couldn’t even look at me. Instead, she studied the plate in front of her as if it held the answer to all of our problems. “You make it sound as if I had a problem with touching you. I have a problem with how things are going, not you.”
“You couldn’t even look at me afterward,” she whispered harshly, casting her eyes up. I half wished she hadn’t because the hurt in them was a punch in the throat.
It took me a moment to realize what she was referring to, and when I did, my stomach tightened to a stone. She thought I had been disgusted by her? Why the fuck should I have felt anything but burning guilt when looking at her broken form?
“I couldn’t look at you because I felt fucking guilty. Because I felt like a fucking rapist. Fuck, because I was one.”
She froze, her finger still resting on the plate. “You didn’t want to do it.”
“What kind of difference does it make?” I roared, pushing to my feet because I felt ready to combust. I had left work early and handed the debtor off to my father for further handling. Now I wished I had just kept kicking his sorry ass. “My actions speak for themselves, don’t they?”
“It makes a world of difference, Maximus!” Sara said, slapping the tabletop, suddenly angry for some reason. “We were both victims.”
I gripped the backrest of the chair. I wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room. “I don’t think we’re talking about the same event. I had to force myself on you.”
“You had to. And I gave you the okay because I knew you didn’t have a choice, just like I didn’t.”
I stared at her, at a loss. She seemed to believe everything she had said. How could her version of the events be so different from mine? “But you’ve acted like you don’t want me close since we got married.”