Chapter Eleven
Kat
I wake up feeling every part of my body ache, but in a good way. I stretch out, feeling the burn go through me, and then I realise that I am alone. Nate has gone, and I don’t know why disappointment is the first emotion I feel.
Why did I think he might still be here? How stupid of me. We had a hateful fuck and then he left, the moment over.
I move from the bed and pad over to my ensuite and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, my lips slightly swollen and my face flushed. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but I can only imagine the flush has come from my mind recalling the way Nate took me. Hard, fast, deep, and nothing like I have ever experienced before.
The way in which he fucked me but made me feel like the only woman in the world was something else, and now I have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
One moment of passion was our lot, and now it’s back to business as usual.
I splash my face with cold water and then brush the knots out of my hair before throwing it up into a messy bun. I leave the bathroom and go to my ridiculously large walk-in wardrobe and grab a pair of jogging bottoms, a bra and a vest top. I have no need to dress up around here. It’s meant to be my home, and if I want to rock a pair of jogging bottoms, then I damn well will.
I leave the bedroom, bracing myself for whatever Nate may throw my way after last night.
The smell of the fresh coffee hits my nose first as I make my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Nate is sat at the kitchen table, paper in front of him, coffee in hand, looking fucking edible in his suit––complete with grey shirt and black tie. If our relationship was normal, I’d be ripping it off of him and fucking him on the table, but we’re not normal, so I push the thought to the back of my mind.
“Good morning,” I say as I make my way over to the coffee machine.
I feel his eyes on me as I walk past, my back to him.
“Morning, wife.” I can almost hear the fucking smugness in his voice. Jackass. “I’ve got you a coffee here,” he continues as I pull a mug from the cupboard.
“Oh.” I put the mug back and finally turn to face him. I see a second cup on the table and make my way over, dropping into the seat opposite him as he pushes the mug towards me.
“Thanks,” I say as I take my first sip, savouring the taste.
“I’ve already taken care of the cleaner and cook, they won’t be returning here, so the house is free to do as you please,” he informs me, and my eyes go wide.
“You sacked them already?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he confirms.
“But you gave them no warning,” I say, shocked that he would take people’s livelihoods away at the drop of a hat.
“So?”
“So?” I say, my voice a little high-pitched. “Do you have no heart?”
“I already told you that I don’t.”
He’s got an answer for everything, always ready to defend and conquer. Fuck my life.
“But they had families to look after.” I’m not going to let this drop, even though I was the one that said they weren’t needed, but still, I don’t want to dwell on that too much because the guilt is starting to eat at me already. I’ve always had compassion, so to see him be so blasé about it really irks me.
“Look, I only did what you wanted, so don’t try and make me feel guilty because it won’t work,” he says, and I feel that little pang of hate start to seep through the cracks of whatever the hell it was I felt last night for this guy.
“You’re an ass,” I tell him before slamming my coffee on the table. I can’t be around him another minute as anger floods my body.
I stand up, my chair screeching across the floor as I push it back.
“Why are you getting so worked up over this?” he says, and I stop as I reach the kitchen doorway.
