Forgotten Sweethearts - Bestseller

Chapter Three

Who the hell drinks dinner at 5 PM and then has nothing until the next morning? I was expecting a deep migraine by the time I woke up.

I took a five-minute rest on the sofa before I got back to it. My eyes were growing heavy. Sleep wanted to welcome me back as I barely slept the previous night. As they were almost closed, I heard a loud banging, followed by Brody yelling out and then another slam. My heart pounding against my chest, I jumped up, more worried that he would attract the attention of the kids who were quietly playing in the toy room. I found him in the pantry, holding his bowl of dinner as he stared angrily at the microwave.

"What are you doing?" I practically yelled. "Do you need to be so loud?"

"It's fucking cold." He dropped the ceramic bowl, heavily inside the microwave and flung the door shut with a hard slap.

Oh, he wasn't cracking the shits with me over this. I gave him a nudge aside with my elbow and pressed start. "It was hot when I had made it hours ago," I pointed out, hissing the words angrily between clenched teeth.

"You know I don't eat until later. It's cold," he growled back, looking flustered.

"Maybe you should eat earlier, then, with us as a family." We never ate together, and I hated it.

His eyes narrowed, raising a brow. "Why not wait until I come home then?"

"Oh, Brody, I am so sorry." My voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I forgot this household revolves around you. From now on, I'll keep the children up late just to ensure you don't ever have to reheat your own food."

His eyes narrowed once again and jaw clenched. "You're a fucking bitch. You know that."

"And you're a fucking bastard," I spat back, turning around and leaving him to figure out his own damn dinner when the timer beeped. "You're welcome."

Unfortunately, name calling wasn't anything new to us. We would often say those things in the heat of the moment, anything to make each other feel worthless and pathetic. Nine times out of ten, it would just make me want to pack my things and leave him. Hell, I knew he wanted to do the same.

The anger was brushed aside once we tucked the children into bed, Lila first, and then Noah who often took the longest to fall asleep. "Mama, can you read me a book?" he asked me as I walked into his room.

Brody was standing and putting the one he had just finished away on the case. "Come on, I just read you two. It's sleeping time."

"It's bedtime, baby. Tomorrow, I'll read you one then," I promised, hating to say no to him

His nose scrunched as I pulled the covers over his shoulders. "I'm not a baby."

Leaning down, I kissed his soft cheek and whispered, "You'll always be my baby."

The lights were turned out, and ten minutes later, both of them were fast asleep. I turned around to see Brody walking towards his office door. So much for talking, I walked behind him and followed through the door.

My hand came up, stopping the door as it almost hit in the face, and I pushed it back open. "Watch it!" I growled, rubbing my hands with a frown.

"Didn't see you there." He shrugged, pulling out his iPhone and sitting behind his desk once again. "Come to yell some more or are you after something?"

My frown deepened as I looked at him incredulously. "Brody, you told me you wanted to talk this morning."

He seemed to think it over, obviously forgotten about it. "Oh. Yeah, it doesn't matter anymore."

"What was it?" I pushed, urging him to go on. "It must have been something."

"Mum, just wanted to come around for dinner, and I was going to ask your thoughts, but I told her no. I have too much work to do. I won't have time. Unless, you want to go around with the kids?" His eyes still focused on his phone.

Nothing, and I mean nothing pissed me off more than when someone was having a conversation with me, and they were playing around on their mobile phone. I found it so rude and disrespectful. Walking behind his deck, I snatched the damn thing out of his hands and looked at the screen.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He was playing a game. "You'd rather play Candy Crush than listen to me?"

"Calm down, Gabriella." Standing to take the phone back but I took a step away and held it hostage from him. "I was getting out of a game that Noah was playing earlier."

"I'm going to go through your messages, voice mails," I informed him. I knew it was stupid, but I was so angry and jealous. I hated being jealous for no reason. "I can't believe you. Are you that bored with me? Come si può essere così maleducato, sconsiderato e frustrante allo stesso tempo. Mi sento come buttare questo telefono attraverso una finestra di, Brody!"

He seemed to look more amused than anything as I spoke my native tongue. Instead of yelling, he sat back down, motioning with his hands for me to go ahead and search. "Go for it. I have nothing to hide. Where is your phone? Actually, since I pay for it, I'll just check the bill." I couldn't believe he just went there. That was low and incredibly hurtful. I worked hard. I just didn't earn a cent from it.

"That's not fair," I said, tossing him phone back to him. "And you didn't answer my question."

Catching it before it fell to the ground, he narrowed his eyes. "You know I refuse to listen when you're yelling." He set the phone down on his desk, looking back up. "What isn't fair is that I come home to all your made up accusations daily. You convince yourself that I'm doing something wrong, therefore, you believe it."

He made me sound crazy. "I thought you wanted to talk about us, not your mother!" My voice was more sad than angry.

All emotion left his face, and he swallowed. I scanned my eyes over his, watching as his Adam's apple bobbing and clicking the pen between his fingers with his thumb. "Do you want to talk about us? I have a lot to say."

"Then, talk to me. I don't like avoiding and ignoring each other." I sighed, sitting on the soft couch beside his desk. What I really wanted to say was I don't want to fight anymore.

Brody stood, walked over to where I sat and joined me. "I don't like it either."

I looked up at him, still mad. "I hate when you're on your phone."

With a yawn, he sat back, strong thighs parting as they stretched out. "I hate when you yell in Italian."

"I'll try not to do that anymore."

Taking my hand in his with a squeeze, he pulled me closer against him. My head rested against his chest, and his fingers played with my hair. It was soothing. The urge to close my eyes and fall asleep were there. "Do you love me?"

"Yes. Do you love me?" My heart began to quicken. I adjusted my body, reaching across his torso and wrapping my arm loosely around his waist with closed eyes. I waited for him to hold me back, but he didn't. I could feel him slipping away slowly even if wasn't going to admit it. I knew I had to try, but so did he.

He was quiet for a moment, "I do." He then asked. "What did you yell at me this time?"

I kept my eyes closed, leaving the part out where I had called him rude, inconsiderate and frustrating. I just said, "That I was going to throw your phone through the window."

He chuckled, a loud laugh that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against my ear. "I'm sure that's all. I know you well enough to know that's not entirely true."

I just laughed, and at this moment, things felt a little better.

I knew better than to get my hopes up. We had this same conversation two months ago, and then months before that. We fought and then made up and fought some more and made up all over again. It was a broken record on repeat, and we were just going around in circles.

Was it bad that we'd both try to change for a few days before slipping back to our new routine of yelling and hating on each other? Of course, it was, but that's how things were now. We weren't the same Brody and Gabriella all those years ago. They were a distant shadow.

I wondered just how long it would last for this time.