A knock sounds at the door to the guest room I’m staying in. Xander must be home from work. I played hooky today because when my alarm went off this morning, I just couldn’t fucking find it in me to put on a cheerful face and be a functional adult. So, I stayed home and smoked weed and felt sorry for myself.
“Come in,” I call out.
Xan steps into the room, gaze falling to where I’m lying on the bed. “Have you been here the whole day?”
Crossing the room, he sits on the edge of the bed, the faint scent of marijuana wafting over to me. Xander partially owns a dispensary, so I feel like he always smells at least a little like weed at any given time.
“No, I’ve gotten up,” I murmur, an edge of defensiveness to my tone.
“Want to come grab some dinner with me at the pub down the street?”
I should. It’ll be good for me to get out and hang with Xander instead of sulking in this room that doesn’t even belong to me.
Before I can respond to him, the doorbell rings, startling us both.
“I’ll grab it,” Xan offers, jumping up from the bed.
I sit up, looking around for my phone. He’s not gone for more than a minute before I hear his footsteps padding across the hardwood floor toward this room, only this time, there’s a second set.
Xander peeks his head in, an unreadable expression on his face. “Someone’s here to see you.”
My brows pinch together. “Me? Who?”
He steps aside, letting whoever it is walk by. As soon as he steps into the room, my heart palpitates, and my palms start to sweat.
“Nathaniel,” I breathe. “What are you doing here?”
He scans the room, like he’s taking it all in, before moving to sit on the chair in front of the desk. Xander’s still at the door, and we make eye contact. I nod, silently letting him know it’s okay. He gives me a terse nod of his own before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
“I miss you, babe.” Nathaniel offers those words like they’re the easiest thing in the world. Like we haven’t spent the last three whole days in a fight.
Correction—we haven’t spent the last three days fighting. We’ve spent the last three days not speaking at all.
“Yeah, then why did it take you so long to come here and say that?”
“Well, babe, I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t,” I grit out, hating the sting behind my eyes and the lump in my throat.
“I wanted to give you your space, let you cool off.” Leaning forward in the chair, he rests his elbows on his knees. “You know how you get when you’re upset like that.”
My heart thumps excessively, to the point it’s hard to sit still. “You act like I overreact, Nathaniel.”
His face softens; he gets this look to him whenever he’s about to talk down to me. Speak to me like I’m a child. “Babe, you kind of do. Just…” Raising from the chair, he crosses the room in three large strides, sitting beside me on the bed. He slides his large, warm hand into mine, and I already feel my resolve slipping. “Come home, babe. We can figure this out. You know I love you.”
I want to be strong. I want to stand my ground because I’m hurt. And mad. But he’s touching me, his thumb brushing back and forth against the sensitive flesh of my wrist, and he’s saying exactly what I want to hear.
He loves me.
But— “You say that, Nathaniel, but sometimes it feels like just words coming from you. You act like you want nothing to do with me sometimes. It hurts me.”
“I’m sorry, okay? Work has been crazy, and I’m stressed out, and I’ve been taking it out on you, and that’s not fair. I’m sorry, babe. You gotta believe me.”
The back of my throat aches. I don’t want to fucking cry.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe we’re no good for one another.”
“Travis, don’t say that.” His voice cracks.Maybe he really does love me.“We’re meant to be together. You’re supposed to be my husband someday.”
