“I don’t want tea. I don’t want anything.”
“Honey, your hands are bleeding.” He covered them with his own and pressed them to his chest in a tender caress. “Natalie, you can’t keep doing this. Promise me you’ll never lock me out again. You scared the hell out of me. I was afraid…”
It took her a moment to understand what he meant. He’d thought she was going to hurt herself? No, she couldn’t do something like that even though she could now understand why people did. This cold, this pain…you had to do whatever it took to escape it.
“Blake, let me deal with this my own way.”
“Not like this,” he said, lifting her up bodily and carrying her out of the shower. “Not anymore.”
Her muscles wouldn’t work to fight him, almost as if they were paralyzed by frostbite. Touchdown barked his distress as Blake removed the tile cleaner and sponge she was still clutching from her claw-like grip. He was gentle as he washed the caked white powder and blood off her hands, applied salve, and bandaged them.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror and stumbled back. White powder was streaked in her wild, curly hair, and it made a violent slash across her dress. Dear God. She looked like a crazy woman, someone left out in the woods for weeks, all civilization stripped from her.
How could he love her like this?
She hated herself like this.
But he didn’t leave her alone. He undressed her slowly, his hands gentle as he bathed her in their Jacuzzi tub like she was a child. She endured it because she wasn’t really present—inside, she was running from the love and worry in his eyes, running from his touch. Then he toweled her off and brushed her hair out, making her bite her lip to fight the pain his tenderness caused her. After dressing her, he kissed her forehead.
“There. That’s better. Now come have some tea.”
When his strong, determined arms led her to the bathroom door, she eyed the doorknob lying on the ground.
She couldn’t lock him out. Blake would always find a way to get to her. But would that change the longer the ice stayed inside her? She wasn’t his sassy, sexy wife right now. She was cracking, splintering, going crazy. She could see it now. The media paid attention to Blake, and she would probably end up losing it in the public eye, which would embarrass them both and probably harm her catering business. He would stop remembering her as the woman she’d been, and then he would stop loving her too.
Who could love this weak, pathetic, wild woman ravaged by the wilderness of grief? She didn’t want to become this…thing.
His arms were wrapped tight around her, but she still stumbled as he led her back to the blazing fire he’d made in the den. The blaze hurt, her whole body burning and tingling to adjust to the heat. She didn’t want to hurt like this. She refused to hurt like this. She had to remain numb somehow, living somewhere between the cold wasteland inside her and the welcoming bonfire of her family, her husband, her life. If she stayed numb, she wouldn’t go crazy. But Blake would never let her shut down on him. No, he’d press her and love her until she succumbed to the pain. She was going to go crazy. Mad-dog crazy.
She was going to have to leave him.
Chapter 1
The incessant pounding of hammers woke Natalie. She rolled onto her back and tucked the pillow around her ears to muffle the sound, but the racket didn’t subside. She let the pillow flop back into place and glanced over at the clock. Nine thirteen. And on a Saturday to boot. Darn it all to heck.
Sleeping in on the weekend was a luxury she’d started allowing herself to make up for all the sweets she’d given up eating, treats like salted caramels and dark chocolate gelato. Her intake hadn’t been healthy, and she’d finally succumbed to better nutrition.
Her ex-husband, Blake Cunningham, would be delighted if he knew. He’d always tried to entice her to drink some of his green grass, mineral-loaded, mumbo-jumbo smoothies. Cripes, he’d made her feel like a slob on movie night when she ate buttered popcorn while he savored kale chips. Kale chips!
If he hadn’t been one of the NFL’s top quarterbacks, she might have teased him about eating like a hippie to get his goat. But Blake was no hippie.