“Is this what you’re going to do every time you screw up? Turn everything around on me and throw it in my face how I left you behind when I was eleven years old?”
I pour another shot, taking that one down just as fast. My eyes close and I allow myself to feel the burn riding down my throat and settling in my stomach. Once it does, I set the top back on the bottle and turn around. My palms press to the bar behind me and my head tilts slightly. “You know, you’re cute when you’re mad.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re even cuter when you curse.”
Bella spins on her heels, pouting as she looks out at the city beneath us. “In case you were even wondering, I’m not pregnant. I had my period two weeks ago.”
I come up behind her, inhaling her hair and wrapping my arms around her tense body in the same manner I did minutes ago. “Good. That means you’re ovulating. Maybe I should plant my seed in you right now.”
Shoulders drawn back, she turns around to face me. “You already did it in the car, you idiot.”
“Oh, so now we’re name-calling?” It’s a bad time for jokes, but I’m having a hard time taking her seriously when she looks this cute. It’s also been over a month since I’ve had a drink, and those two shots have me feeling pretty good right about now.
She pushes past me, making a beeline for the minibar. “How do you even know about ovulation and cycles? That’s sort of creepy, Cal.”
“I read books. I’m full of useful and useless information.”
Bella opens up the wine cooler and pulls out a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. She begins fidgeting with the top, peeling off the foil, so I walk toward her to offer a helping hand.
“Corkscrew should be in one of the drawers.” I rifle through a few until I find it. Hesitantly, she hands me the bottle. I grin in response because I know allowing me to help is torture for her right now.
A twist and a pull and the cork pops off. Bella startles at the sound, and I chuckle at her timidness, though she’s not timid at all. She’s fierce and a force to be reckoned with.
She goes to grab the bottle, but I hold it up, out of her reach. “Forgive me?”
She shakes her head no.
“Will you ever forgive me?”
Her shoulders shrug.
“I don’t wanna fight with you, Bella.” I lower the bottle, but she doesn’t take it from me.
“I don’t either. I’m just wondering how we’re supposed to have a future together that’s built on nothing but lies.”
I set the bottle down on the counter, grab her by the waist, and pull her flush to my chest. “We start over and we build something better.” My lips press to hers, but I can still feel resistance on her end. “Can we do that?”
Bella pulls away and my shoulders slouch when she leaves my arms. “So much has happened, Cal. So many bad things, and I hate to say it, but it’s all because of…”
Reality slaps me in the face, and it fucking hurts. “Because of what? Me?”
She doesn’t have to say it. I know what she means. Bringing her to the island was the start of a series of unfortunate events. Bella has been emotionally beaten and had her heart shattered into tiny pieces. It is all because of me. I’ve hurt the only person left in this world that I give a damn about. And now, I don’t think she can ever fully forgive me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The days that follow are quiet. Me, lost in my thoughts; Cal, busy with his search for Byron. We haven’t left this suite and it feels like the walls are beginning to close in around me.
Cal made some headway in finding Mark. It seems Cal was held in the basement of some building in the city, and he has a swarm of men heading there, because he’s almost positive there were other prisoners.
I’ve been on pins and needles waiting to hear if Mark’s been found. It’s eleven o’clock at night and there hasn’t been any word on him yet.
“Why don’t you come to bed?” Cal pats the mattress beside him. We’ve slept in the same bed since the first night here, but Cal has never felt like more of a stranger than he has these past three days. Not even when I arrived at Cori Cove and saw him for the first time in twelve years. At least then I had hope. Right now, I feel like all hope is lost.
Regardless, I still slip my robe off and climb into bed, wearing the baby pink nightgown Cal bought me. He had bags upon bags of clothes delivered, and it was an assurance that we’re going to be here awhile.
“Please just talk to me,” Cal says with that same sadness in his voice he’s had all day.
“I’m not really sure there’s anything to say right now.” Of all the things he has done that hurt me, giving me false hope of protection while trying to ‘stimulate my ovaries’ has been the one that hurts the most. Maybe I’m overreacting, but the way I see it, he tricked me. He stole the fight in me, and I feel breathless, without a voice. I trusted what he was having me take and he was using my body to try and create a baby that would be used as a pawn in this sick game he and Byron are playing.
I still love Cal. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not throwing in the towel or giving up on him. I’m just stuck in this headspace of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘what-now?’ What does any of this mean for our future? Am I subjecting myself to a life in hiding because Cal has so many enemies? What other secrets don’t I know?
Cal rolls onto his side, fingertips floating down my arms, leaving a wake of goosebumps in their path. “Can we please move on from this?”
He’s been so sweet. So attentive and kind. I know he’s hurting, but I am, too.
“It’s late,” I tell him. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
He blows out a heavy breath, drops his arm then rolls onto his other side, facing the wall. “You said the same fucking thing last night, Bella.”
I don’t react. Don’t respond. Instead, I tug the blankets over my shoulder, turn away from him and lie there, replaying the events of the last couple months. Just like I do every night.
I’ve been lying in this bed still and quiet for two hours. Cal hasn’t said a word and his heavy breathing leads me to believe he’s asleep. Slowly, I sit up with my back pressed to the headboard. He’s on his side, still facing the wall. I watch the rise and fall of his chest and my heart warms at the sight. There’s something about watching him sleep. Being in a vulnerable state when he puts on such a badass front for the world.
I wrap my arm around him softly, nuzzling my face into his back. I’m so full of love for this man that sometimes I feel like I will burst at the seams. I know I’m being stubborn. I was born with the dastardly trait. I’m just not sure I’m cut out for the life he has planned for us. Half of my life was spent fighting against the world. I don’t want that for my future. I don’t want that for my kids.
Unable to sleep, I move my arm and crawl out of bed, taking care not to wake him up. Cal hasn’t been sleeping the best either, and he could really use a good night's sleep.
I step into my slippers and wrap my black, silk robe around me, tying it at the waist. It’s been made clear that I am not allowed to leave this room because someone could see me and alert Byron. However, I’m restless and I’m suffocating.