“I can't help it when that's how you act,” he snapped back.
“This is unbelievable. You're jealous because you saw me napping with another man, so you're throwing a temper tantrum. What about blondie yesterday afternoon!?” she yelled at him.
“You don't get to be jealous, Tocci,” he growled, and then slipped off his jacket while he spoke, tossing it onto the back of one of the stools. “You forfeited that emotion.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“You cut me out!” he yelled, shocking her a little and pointing his finger in her face. “You wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't answer your phone. You want to play your little games, and you refuse to forgive me. So I've done everything you've wanted. I've been nice to you, I've apologized to you, I have watched you kiss another man and sleep with another man. I've even played along with your game, just like you wanted. How can you possibly be jealous!? You don't want me, so clearly, you can't be jealous.”
“I did not sleep with him,” she hissed, leaning forward and slapping his hand away. “And I never said I was jealous, and besides, you lied to me! You lied, over and over again, and you treated me like garbage.”
“Not always, Tocci. You love acting like it was the worst thing ever, but there were some pretty good goddamn moments. But apparently, they're not worth remembering. Only Eden's memories are good enough for you,” he said.
That actually hurt. It was ridiculous, she knew, but a pang of guilt cut through to her core. She knew his actions had ensured that she never needed to feel guilty about anything ever, but she couldn't help it. The heart reacts how it reacts, and to hear him say he thought she didn't care about her memories with him, it hurt. She shrank back, bumping into the counter behind her.
“How can you say that?” she asked. “You ruined all those memories. Do you have any idea how hard it is, just standing in a room with you? You ruined everything, and what, you just expect me to go back to like it was? It's not that simple, Wulf.”
“But it is with Liam.”
She took a deep breath.
“Maybe it is.”
There it was – a crack in his demeanor, finally. White hot rage, flashing across his face. For a moment, she thought he was going to explode. Lash out, maybe kick a chair or punch the counter top. But that was silly, this was Wulfric Stone. He took a deep breath and grabbed at the knot in his tie, yanking it loose.
“If that's true,” he growled. “Then that makes you a liar. That means you lied every bit as much as I did, if not more. That means you're an even worse human being than I am.”
Katya was suddenly so tired. Of going in circles. Of not knowing what she wanted, and not knowing how to explain that to Wulf. Of not being to give him what he wanted. She turned away abruptly and her hand bumped into the cupcakes that had been left to cool. She sighed and began piling them onto a serving plate.
“Maybe I am, Wulf. Just go home,” she said in a soft voice, picking up one of the desserts and peeling the wrapper from it. She heard him move, and suddenly he was at her back.
“No. Be a fucking adult and look me in the face and tell me it's him over me. That your decision is made and final,” he said in a stern voice.
“Would it even matter? Would that stop you?”
There was a long pause.
“No.”
“And if I told you I still didn't know – that I might not ever know, that I might not ever forgive you. What then?” she asked, picking chocolate cake crumbs up off the counter.
“Then we do the same goddamn thing tomorrow. And the day after. And every day, until you realize the right choice.”
It must be wonderful to be so confident in oneself.
“I have to go to work tomorrow,” she sighed again, turning away and heading back into her living room. “You need to go.”
“We're not done here,” he said, following right at her heels.
“I'm done, Wulf. I was done a long time ago.”
“Well, I'm not. Because you may not be in love with me anymore, but I'm -”
Katya was so shocked at what she thought he was about to admit, that she went to whirl around to face him. Her heel landed in something slippery, probably from Liam's plate when it had been on the floor. Her foot went out from under her, threatening to send her to the ground. Wulf latched onto her elbow, yanking her upright, but it also caused her to spin around. She threw out her hand to help keep her balance and wound up planting it solidly in the middle of his chest. It wasn't till after she'd made contact that she realized she was still holding the cupcake.
“Oh … no,” she breathed, staring at the mess that was coating his tie. The cupcakes had a pudding filling, which was now dripping down his chest.
“Are you fucking serious?” he said in a low voice. She glanced up at him, but he was still staring at the dessert catastrophe. She tried to contain it, but couldn't stop herself – she let out a snicker. Managed to swallow a laugh, which resulted in her snorting.
“I'm sorry,” she managed to choke out. “It's just so ...” she cut herself off, she started laughing so much.
“You're right. This is done,” he suddenly growled, letting go of her and stomping back into the kitchen.
“No wait!” she yelled, hurrying after him, shaking cupcake bits off her fingers. She grabbed a tea towel and wiped at her hand while chasing him into the hallway.
“Want another cake fight? This is a fucking joke to you. I'm a fucking joke,” he stated, reaching for the door knob. “A goddamn game. You only want to play games.”
“No! I swear, I didn't mean to -”
But he was beyond listening – he had red lined in the anger zone, and clearly didn't want to be in her presence anymore. He didn't even look at her as he started to yank the door open, and somehow she knew. She knew if he walked out the door, that would really be it. There would be no going back. They would have damaged each other too much to come back from it. It was one thing to walk away from Wulf when he had knowingly, intentionally, hurt her. It was quite another for Wulf to walk away from her over what was a simple accident involving dessert. That could not be the reason for their ending, she wouldn't allow it.
So without thinking about what she was doing, Katya leapt between him and the door, throwing her weight back against it. The door slammed shut, the knob yanked out of his hand. He glared down at her.
“Move,” he hissed, grabbing for the knob again. She slapped his hand away with the towel.
“No,” she stated. “I didn't mean to hit you with a cupcake – it wasn't some elaborate plan to humiliate you, or part of my game, or anything like that.”
“I don't really care at this point. Move.”
God, he was mad. He had been about to confess something big, she was sure of it. Something very important to him. And he had thought she was laughing at him. She knew exactly how that felt, and she felt kind of terrible for making him think it.
“Just calm down,” she urged, pressing the towel and both hands against his chest.