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I go back into the bedroom and lie down on the bed, hating that I like the smell of the sheets, that I’m so confused and hurt.
The back door shuts, and Savage’s footsteps track past the bedroom door. They hesitate in front of it then continue down the hallway.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
I pull a pillow over my head and lie there, staring at the ceiling.
He wants me, but he doesn’t. He’s caring, but he won’t let me in. He won’t help me understand why his rules are the way they are, or what any of this is about.
And who’s Charlotte?
Did Savage breed those roses specifically for her? For this Charlotte woman? That’s why he’s angry? Because he’s holding a candle for another woman and he deeply regrets doing anything with me?
It makes the most sense.
I feel sick and stupid, and I roll over onto my stomach and bury my face in the pillow.
I’m such an idiot.
For a second there, for a few beats, I was sure that finally, I was getting what I wanted out of a relationship, even if it was sex. But of course, Savage doesn’t want me, he wants this Charlotte woman, and not only has he lied to me about why we can’t do anything, but he’s also yelled at me for finding out the truth. If that’s not toxic, I don’t know what is.
I squeeze my eyes shut, the tears leaking out of them.
My fault for thinking something could happen. My fault for pushing too hard. Not my fault for being yelled at. It’s not my job to manage Savage’s emotions.
And screw him! He’s into some other girl, and he’s folding me like a fucking accordion in his living room and making me come like five times in a row? Screw that.
I sit upright and punch my hands down on the bed.
Footsteps creak on the wooden floor in the hall. The house is silent now the rain has stopped. A sliver of sunlight peaks through the clouds outside, and I glare out the window at it. Traitorous weather.
A knock comes at the bedroom door. “Hannah.”
“Fuck off,” I yell.
I’m not much for cursing, but this moment seems appropriate.
“Hannah, please, I’d like to apologize to you for the way I acted.”
“Save it,” I say. “That’s the second time you’ve yelled at me, and that’s not even the biggest issue we’re having so just… Why am I even talking to you? Go away.”
“Please, Hannah.”
“Go away! Or in your words, get the fuck out.”
He leaves again.
“Asshole.” I flop back down on the bed and let the tears come.
Twenty-Six
SAVAGE
I can’t think, can’t breathe after what I’ve done.
I sit on the floor across from the locked bedroom door, staring straight ahead. I’ve replayed what happened in the greenhouse in my head what feels like a million times. Her shocked expression, my anger, the betrayal in her eyes.
I walked in on her, muttering “Charlotte”, and something snapped inside me.
