I looked at him in an effort to assess my next move and he looked really mad so I found it difficult to assess my next move.
Then I said carefully, “No.”
He moved toward me, I retreated and hit counter. He didn’t stop until he was super close, he pulled the bowl out of my hand, set it to the side and then he put a hand on the counter on either side of me and leaned in.
“Duchess, let me explain somethin’,” he said in a low, quiet, angry voice. “Bitches, real ones, don’t say the words, ‘willy nilly’.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to reply.
“You talk to him?” he asked and I got confused because I was thinking he was changing the subject.
“Talk to him?”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
“Him,” Max clipped and I realized he was changing the subject and I tensed, didn’t answer and Max said in a low, warning voice, “Nina.”
“Kind of,” I whispered quickly.
“How kind of?”
“I sent an e-mail.”
“You sent an e-mail,” Max repeated, his face disbelieving of the fact I’d send a breakup e-mail to my fiancé and even in my state, I had to admit it did sound bad.
“I’m…” I hesitated, “better at saying things when I write them down. I can edit. Make sure that it says what I need it to say and I don’t…” I licked my lips, “that I can make it so it doesn’t…” This was hard but for some reason I kept going. “I had to do it so it didn’t… hurt too much.”
Some of the anger slid from his features and he muttered, “Baby.”
“Can you move away?” I asked quietly.
“No.”
“Max, please.”
He ignored me and asked, “That really happen?”
My head jerked and I asked back, “The e-mail?”
“Your brother.”
My whole body jerked and I looked away.
“Nina, look at me.” When I didn’t, his hand wrapped around my jaw and he made me look at him or he made it so he could study me which he did a long time before murmuring, “What else is behind that fuckin’ shield?”
He really didn’t want to know, if he did he’d know why I jumped to conclusions about him with Mindy with Becca and he’d know just how messed up my head was. I wanted to be gone but I didn’t want him to think I was messed up and just that was messed up.
I didn’t answer and his hand at my jaw became fingers sliding into my hair.
“I’m sorry about your brother, honey.”
I pressed my lips together, felt the tears hit my eyes and then whispered, “Me too.”
“You were close,” he stated, I nodded and when he opened his mouth to speak, I beat him to it.
“Please, don’t. Please don’t, Max. You can’t be nice to me, not about Charlie. You can’t be nice. Anyone who’s nice… when people are nice…” I stopped talking and tilted my chin down to hide my face.
His fingers were in my hair, cupped against my head and he pulled me into him so my forehead was against his chest.
“All right, Duchess, I won’t be nice.”
My hands went to his stomach and I pushed at it as the tears clogged my throat and I choked, “You’re being nice!”
“Honey –”
My fingers curled into his t-shirt and I demanded, “Stop it!”
His hand at my head twisted it so my cheek was against his chest, his other arm went around me and he pulled me to his body which was shaking. “Baby,” his voice had laughter in it, “I’m not doing anything.”
I felt my breath hitch and at the sound his arm got tight and his fingers flexed against my scalp.
“I miss him,” I whispered and I didn’t know why, I didn’t even think the words before they came out of my mouth.
“I can tell.”
I pulled in a shaky breath then another one and the third went in smooth so I told him, “You can let me go now.”
“Keep tellin’ you when you’re in my arms, I like you where you are.”
“Max –”
His hand in my hair pulled my head back and when I was looking at him he declared, “Next up, we’re talkin’ ‘bout your Dad.”
“I don’t have a Dad.”
His brows slid together and he said, “You mentioned him earlier.”
“No, I mentioned my father,” I stated clearly. “I don’t have a Dad.”
“All right, then we’ll talk about your father.”
“No, since I never talk about him.”
“Nina.”
“Max.”
“Did I stay away long enough?” Mindy called, Max twisted, I got up on tiptoe to look over his shoulder and Mindy halted at the counter. “Whoops, see I didn’t.”
“You did,” I said quickly.
“I can come back.”
I pushed against Max’s stomach again, he released me and moved to my side as I said, “You’re fine.”
“Sure?” she asked.
“Definitely,” I replied.
Her eyes hit the stove and she observed, “Bacon’s all greasy, Max.”
“I’ll sort it out,” Max told her.
She skip-danced around the counter, throwing him a cheerful smile and I marveled this girl was raped three weeks ago. Marveled at the same time that the knowledge hit my stomach like a rotten pit.