Page 89 of Stanton Adore

“What is that supposed to mean?” she snaps.

“Natasha asked you tonight if it mattered to you if your boys married into money.”

“And?” she snaps.

“You totally ignored the question.”

“Of course, I want my boys to marry into money. Any self-respecting mother would want good breeding for her grand children.”

I stand up and start throwing my things into my bag again. “That’s funny, because if I know the story right, Dad’s parents didn’t accept you because you came from a poor family. Yet you have the audacity to judge Natasha.”

“Natasha is a self-absorbed social-ladder climber, Joshua, and even if you were not related to her, which you are, I would not approve. The girl repulses me.” That’s it. I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder. “Where are you going? Put your bag back down immediately until you tell me where you are going.”

I turn slowly.

“Josh, just go,” Cameron urges.

“You want to know where I am going, Mother?” I have never been so angry. She glares at me. “Do you really want to know?” I whisper again.

“Enlighten me,” she growls.

“I’m going to Natasha’s and then I am going to beg for her forgiveness for letting you speak to her like a piece of dirt tonight.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for me. I meant every word I said,” she screams.

“I won’t be home tonight,” I snap as I grab my bag.

“Joshua, no, you can’t sleep with her again. She’s bad news,” she says frantically.

“No, Mother!” I scream. “Natasha is the only thing that is good! I have been holding myself back from her out of respect for you. But seeing you don’t respect her, or me, it’s on, and you can blame yourself.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Totally!”

She runs and grabs my arm. “Cameron, talk some sense into your brother. Joshua, no. Don’t leave. This is what she wants, to cause trouble between us.”

“What? You can’t be serious. I am going to spend the night with the one woman in the world who doesn’t love me for my money. The one woman who I have no doubt can make me happy.”

“You’re a fool, Joshua. She will break your heart again and deep down you know that. This can never have a happy ending. As soon as her family finds out, she will leave you again and then who will pick up the pieces?”

I storm out and grab the keys to my car, trying my hardest not to punch something. I’ve had enough of this shit. Why is everything so fucking hard?

The apartment is too quiet when I enter. I used my key because I know she wouldn’t have opened the door if I knocked. She must be asleep. I walk into the bedroom and see her lying with her back to me. She hasn’t moved so I’m assuming she’s asleep. I watch her for a few minutes in silence. My heart aches just to touch her, to soothe her, to tell her everything will be alright. I just wish I knew if it will be. Probably a good thing she’s asleep. I’m too fucking angry with my mother to even talk to Natasha now. I will only end up fighting with her again, which is exactly what my bitch of a mother wants. I can’t believe she brought up Amelie…that’s low, even for her. How in the fuck am I going to explain that one? She might be the one punching holes in the door this time.

Natasha

I hear the key in the door and I quickly jump under the covers. I am way too mad to speak to him but he’s damn lucky he had the guts to come. He walks to the bedroom door and I watch his reflection in the mirror. He doesn’t say anything and blows out a breath as he walks back into the lounge room while running his hands through his hair. I hear the jug flick on and then fussing about in the kitchen. What is he doing? The toaster pops. What in the world? He’s making toast and a cup of tea. I hear the television flick on. Now I’ve seen it all. Actually, I’m hungry too. The Wicked Witch of the West killed my appetite at dinner. How does she live with herself?

I lie in bed and try to think of this evening’s events from his side. It wasn’t his fault his mother was a bitch, but then he didn’t defend me either—it was Cam who told her to shut up. Was Josh really just trying to defuse the situation? This is a mess. And the Amelie thing. My heart aches as I ponder this one; he has lied to me again. Even if they are just friends, she obviously has a hold over him if he drives her everywhere for horse stuff. She lives in his country estate and she’s a veterinarian. I can’t compete with this shit. I hate horses with a passion. I roll over for the hundredth time and punch the pillow. A depressing thought crosses my mind. Even if Josh and I have the guts to come clean about our relationship or whatever this is between us, our lives are just so different that we might not work out in the long run anyway. Do we even have anything in common? I mean, honestly, apart from sex what do we have other than memories? A lump forms in my throat as I try my hardest to suppress my tears. How do I walk away from him without this hurt? I need to get out of this relationship—it’s going to break me I just know it. It’s not healthy for either of us.

An hour later he comes into the bedroom. It has taken all of my strength not to go out into the lounge room and demand answers, but I know I can’t fight with him tonight. I don’t have the strength. I will end up crying like a baby. I feel weak and it’s an emotion I have become way too familiar with lately. I have never felt so weak in my life. It’s true, I feel better with him here and if we fight and he leaves I will just put myself through hell again anyway. If I just act asleep maybe, we will both actually get some sleep and maybe I will calm down enough so I can actually articulate what I want to say. What do I want to say? He pulls the blankets back and silently slips in behind me, pulling me into an embrace. I pretend to be asleep.

“I hate these fucking flannel pajamas,” he whispers as he cuddles into my back. I smile on the inside. He gently kisses my hair and blows out a breath. “We will talk about it in the morning, precious,” he whispers. “That’s if my balls haven’t exploded by then.” I smile as I hear the last words he has spoken. I must admit, all this dirty talk and no action is about to explode my ovaries as well. Glad I’m not the only hornbag in the house. I stifle a giggle as the last thought runs through my head.

“You find this funny?” he whispers, and I roll over to face him.

“No,” I pull a sad face and he leans in and kisses my cheek. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He gives me a sad smile.