Tangled In Strings

Chapter Twenty-Four

I stare at the table. "No."

"Why didn't you—"

"Because what good would it have done, Giovanni! Honestly, what would you have been able to do?" He surges to his feet, and the chair screeches back. I watch him turn his back to me, running his hands through his hair. "We're in a shit situation, and I didn't want to worry you. He didn't hurt me. He didn't—"

"When was this?" He spins at my silence, his torso ridged. "When?"

I don't want to tell him, but I know I have no choice.

"Right after the meeting at NWPR, right before I went to the doctor's."

He blinks. "You mean he came to you while I was still in New York, and you didn't tell me?"

"Goddammit, Giovanni," I stand up now, "You're not even listening to me. You know what's at stake here! Even my telling you to come here yesterday was dangerous! I didn't want to tell you about the baby, because I knew you'd act like this!"

"You forget, I arrived here yesterday to find you hallucinating on the porch, in fever, with a new goddamn prescription in your bag to numb your senses. You couldn't even keep yourself standing, Scarlett! Don't tell me I'm overreacting!"

I walk to the kitchen, bracing myself against the counter. The roses intoxicate the air surrounding me.

"I've been sick for weeks now. It's the after-effects of the virus I had before. I sat in wet clothes for too long, and that is why I had a fever when you saw me. I haven't been like that for a week, Giovanni. I'm not that fucked up. I'm not that weak."

But, you feel like it.

"You had a panic attack, Scarlett. Don't fucking lie to me. I know you better than that. I've seen you handle the worst shit imaginable without so much as a falter to your step. You're a victim of abuse, who lost the only person who cared about you, and you handled that without therapy or medication. And yet, this, this shit is throwing you over the edge, and I refuse to stand by and watch it happen!"

He's speaking only truths, which is why my blood is curling beneath my skin.

"There's nothing you can do." I shrug, chuckling under my breath. "This fight is fucking pointless."

Without a doubt, our breakfast is ice cold now. I walk around the table, heading for my bag. My chest is heavy with defensiveness, hating how right he is. Hating that I've put him through this, bringing him here to show him my most vulnerable self, to have him judge me this way.

He's making me feel weak, and I hate it. I snatch up my purse, and storm for the door. I'm past the steps, my feet crunching into fallen leaves, when my name crackles through the air behind me. I tense at his hostility, stopping in my tracks.

I pivot, as he bounds down the steps with bare feet. His cheeks are dusted with red heat, anger simmering within him. His eyes, still dark as ever, are alive and full of determination.

"You and I are far from done with this conversation," he says, sharply, towering over me. I don't crack under his intimidating height; instead, I meet his glare with just as much ice.

"What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?" I exclaim, wide-eyed. "You want me to stop taking the pills? Fucking fine. I'll stop. You want me to tell you every goddamn thing that pops into my head or happens in my life? Fine. I will. But, I refuse to stand here and feel your judgment. You have no goddamn clue what my life has been like lately. You couldn't possibly understand!"

"Judgment? Judgment?"

"Yes!"

"This isn't judgment, Scarlett. It's concern! And it's something you seem incapable of letting me experience!" He shakes his head. "You don't like to admit it, but I do know you pretty fucking well. I know how stubborn, how independent, and strong you are. It's what made me fall in love with you in the first place! I can tell from the second you open your eyes in the morning whether you've had a nightmare or not, because this crease appears between your brows, and you can't stop blinking. I know how to tell when you see something you enjoy looking at, like a child with a mother, despite the efforts you make to keep it hidden. I know you get chills on your arms whenever you cross a bridge, every single time. I've checked."