Nathan became very defensive when his control issues were brought up. He didn’t think he was doing anything wrong, but he couldn’t differentiate it in his head.
I mentioned Andrew when he asked for an example. That also did not go over well.
“Andrew is just a friend, he knows me, understands me, and I trust him. He’s helped me a lot.”
“Oh, here we go.” He rolled his eyes. “The always perfect, shining Andrew on the pedestal comes to play. You need more female friends and fewer dicks chasing you around like a f**king tool.”
“You have a problem with my past, but I have to deal with yours? I thought you were friends with him now. You know he’s just my friend. You have no right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.” My arms crossed over my chest.
“So, you’re saying because I don’t like you spending so much time with Andrew, I’m controlling?” he asked, twisting my words, his lawyer showing through.
I was having a difficult time sitting still, my spine so rigid it felt like it was about to snap. My legs were coiled tight, either to kick the shit out of him or run away from the conversation – I couldn’t tell which one was the stronger reaction. “You told him to keep his f**king hands to himself when all he was doing was helping me out of the wheelchair!”
“Yes, and? That’s my job. And did you see his face…he was f**king enjoying touching you,” Nathan said between clenched teeth. “Is it wrong I hate seeing another man touching you? Is it wrong for me to want to protect what’s mine? I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. What do I have to do to make you understand?”
I felt like he’d shoved a knife in my chest, the pain of his words cutting me so deeply. My body slumped back against the couch and my gaze moved down to my hands that were twisting in my skirt as I fought the tears in my eyes.
“That’s good, Nathan. You told her how you felt instead of shutting her out like you tend to do,” Darren said with approval. “He’s putting himself out there, Lila, but in turn he’s also trying to push you away. Because he’s afraid if the Marconi doesn’t take you away, Andrew will. He’s dealing with some serious insecurity issues here.”
“I don’t think she’ll leave me, I know she will.” Nathan was fumbling for his cigarettes. He pulled out the pack and fished one out. “I need some air.” Nathan left with a huff out the door.
I sat there blinking at Darren, unsure of what to do. Did I go after him, or let him stew?
“Sounds like we hit some nerves.” Darren turned to me with a reassuring smile. “This is good, though. You can’t put a puzzle back together without all the pieces.”
We ended the session there since it was clear Nathan wasn’t in a listening place.
Darren hated to send us home in that state, but if Nathan wouldn’t cooperate, there wasn’t much we could do. He reminded us of our need to communicate before we headed out the door.
We didn’t talk on the way home, mostly because we were both still heated from our session and thinking things over. When we reached my condo, I headed to the shower while Nathan went to make dinner. I couldn’t wait for my cast to be off so I could go back to morning showers. My hair was always still wet when I woke up, but it took too much time, thanks to my limited mobility, to do it in the morning.
“Can I help?” I asked as I hobbled into the kitchen, fresh out of the shower, a few minutes later.
“Yes, you can make yourself comfortable in that seat right there,” he said, directing me to the table.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I want to help make dinner.”
“I have it covered. Please just sit down.” His voice was tight, the tension quite thick.
He turned back to the spaghetti, while I set one crutch against the wall and hobbled toward the fridge where I knew a bottle of wine was sure to still be hiding. Spotting it in the back, I pulled it out and placed it on the counter. I felt his eyes on me as I located the corkscrew and opened the bottle. I then moved over a few feet and pulled down a wine glass from the cabinet.
He closed the gap between us, stopping right in front of me. “What the hell to you think you’re doing?”
“I’m having a glass of wine—what’s it look like?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. You’re still on some meds and you can’t have it.” He took the glass from my hand.
“Who the f**k are you to tell me what to do? I want a glass of wine after the day I’ve had, and I’m going to f**king well have it!”
He hit his boiling point; his arm swung back and threw the glass against the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces before falling all over the tile floor.
I quirked my brow, my eyes locked on his. I stretched out my arm, grabbed the bottle, tipped it back, and took a large sip. Nathan stepped back and dug his fingers into his neck in agitation as he paced in front of me.
I took another sip.
Mmm, good wine.
I stared back in defiance when he stopped in front of me, taking another sip. I set the bottle down and reached up again for another glass.
Before my hand reached the stem, Nathan’s hands were on my waist. In seconds I was seated on the counter. Once my disorientation cleared, my hand reached up and slapped him across the face. Our eyes locked and my body was buzzing, electricity radiating off him. It felt like I was coming alive in our fight.
Without warning his lips were on mine, hard and so delicious, but I knew it wasn’t what either of us needed. I pushed back against his chest, creating space between us. He stared back at me, and we continued our battle for control. My hand connected with his cheek again.
“Again,” he said when he brought his face back to me. I did. “More.”
My hands switched and my chest tightened as I repeated, then I lowered my hands and began pounding on his chest. His hands grabbed my wrists, halting my movements as tears slid down my cheek.
He pulled me close to where his chest was flush with mine. “I’m sorry, baby.” He pressed his lips to my neck. “So sorry.”
My hands fisted into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“I love you, Lila,” he said, his lips trailing up my neck to my lips.
“I love you, too,” I replied against his mouth, saying it to him for the first time since I’d said it while doped up in the hospital.
I mentioned Andrew when he asked for an example. That also did not go over well.
“Andrew is just a friend, he knows me, understands me, and I trust him. He’s helped me a lot.”
“Oh, here we go.” He rolled his eyes. “The always perfect, shining Andrew on the pedestal comes to play. You need more female friends and fewer dicks chasing you around like a f**king tool.”
“You have a problem with my past, but I have to deal with yours? I thought you were friends with him now. You know he’s just my friend. You have no right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with.” My arms crossed over my chest.
“So, you’re saying because I don’t like you spending so much time with Andrew, I’m controlling?” he asked, twisting my words, his lawyer showing through.
I was having a difficult time sitting still, my spine so rigid it felt like it was about to snap. My legs were coiled tight, either to kick the shit out of him or run away from the conversation – I couldn’t tell which one was the stronger reaction. “You told him to keep his f**king hands to himself when all he was doing was helping me out of the wheelchair!”
“Yes, and? That’s my job. And did you see his face…he was f**king enjoying touching you,” Nathan said between clenched teeth. “Is it wrong I hate seeing another man touching you? Is it wrong for me to want to protect what’s mine? I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. What do I have to do to make you understand?”
I felt like he’d shoved a knife in my chest, the pain of his words cutting me so deeply. My body slumped back against the couch and my gaze moved down to my hands that were twisting in my skirt as I fought the tears in my eyes.
“That’s good, Nathan. You told her how you felt instead of shutting her out like you tend to do,” Darren said with approval. “He’s putting himself out there, Lila, but in turn he’s also trying to push you away. Because he’s afraid if the Marconi doesn’t take you away, Andrew will. He’s dealing with some serious insecurity issues here.”
“I don’t think she’ll leave me, I know she will.” Nathan was fumbling for his cigarettes. He pulled out the pack and fished one out. “I need some air.” Nathan left with a huff out the door.
I sat there blinking at Darren, unsure of what to do. Did I go after him, or let him stew?
“Sounds like we hit some nerves.” Darren turned to me with a reassuring smile. “This is good, though. You can’t put a puzzle back together without all the pieces.”
We ended the session there since it was clear Nathan wasn’t in a listening place.
Darren hated to send us home in that state, but if Nathan wouldn’t cooperate, there wasn’t much we could do. He reminded us of our need to communicate before we headed out the door.
We didn’t talk on the way home, mostly because we were both still heated from our session and thinking things over. When we reached my condo, I headed to the shower while Nathan went to make dinner. I couldn’t wait for my cast to be off so I could go back to morning showers. My hair was always still wet when I woke up, but it took too much time, thanks to my limited mobility, to do it in the morning.
“Can I help?” I asked as I hobbled into the kitchen, fresh out of the shower, a few minutes later.
“Yes, you can make yourself comfortable in that seat right there,” he said, directing me to the table.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I want to help make dinner.”
“I have it covered. Please just sit down.” His voice was tight, the tension quite thick.
He turned back to the spaghetti, while I set one crutch against the wall and hobbled toward the fridge where I knew a bottle of wine was sure to still be hiding. Spotting it in the back, I pulled it out and placed it on the counter. I felt his eyes on me as I located the corkscrew and opened the bottle. I then moved over a few feet and pulled down a wine glass from the cabinet.
He closed the gap between us, stopping right in front of me. “What the hell to you think you’re doing?”
“I’m having a glass of wine—what’s it look like?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. You’re still on some meds and you can’t have it.” He took the glass from my hand.
“Who the f**k are you to tell me what to do? I want a glass of wine after the day I’ve had, and I’m going to f**king well have it!”
He hit his boiling point; his arm swung back and threw the glass against the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces before falling all over the tile floor.
I quirked my brow, my eyes locked on his. I stretched out my arm, grabbed the bottle, tipped it back, and took a large sip. Nathan stepped back and dug his fingers into his neck in agitation as he paced in front of me.
I took another sip.
Mmm, good wine.
I stared back in defiance when he stopped in front of me, taking another sip. I set the bottle down and reached up again for another glass.
Before my hand reached the stem, Nathan’s hands were on my waist. In seconds I was seated on the counter. Once my disorientation cleared, my hand reached up and slapped him across the face. Our eyes locked and my body was buzzing, electricity radiating off him. It felt like I was coming alive in our fight.
Without warning his lips were on mine, hard and so delicious, but I knew it wasn’t what either of us needed. I pushed back against his chest, creating space between us. He stared back at me, and we continued our battle for control. My hand connected with his cheek again.
“Again,” he said when he brought his face back to me. I did. “More.”
My hands switched and my chest tightened as I repeated, then I lowered my hands and began pounding on his chest. His hands grabbed my wrists, halting my movements as tears slid down my cheek.
He pulled me close to where his chest was flush with mine. “I’m sorry, baby.” He pressed his lips to my neck. “So sorry.”
My hands fisted into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“I love you, Lila,” he said, his lips trailing up my neck to my lips.
“I love you, too,” I replied against his mouth, saying it to him for the first time since I’d said it while doped up in the hospital.
