Page 84 of Homestead

And I still have no good answer to give him that won’t blow everything we have apart.

Deciding the best option is a preemptive withdrawal, I pull out of his arms and move toward the side of the bed. “I’m sorry for the breakdown.” I keep my tone as casual as possible. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Hey!” He grabs for me, keeping me from making it off the bed. “Where you goin’?”

“I was just going to wash my face, clean up, and go to the bathroom.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the hell is goin’ on after that?” He sounds wary and vaguely hurt. His eyebrows are pulled together in a frown.

“There’s nothing going on. It was a random breakdown. Some sort of emotional release after all those orgasms. Probably just hormones or something. It didn’t mean anything.” I keep my eyes wide and my gaze steady. He has to believe me right now.

He doesn’t.

His frown deepens. “You’re sittin’ there lyin’ to me right now?”

“I’m not?—”

“Yeah, you are.” His posture has stiffened and his expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “Even after what we just… You’re still lyin’.”

“Jimmy—”

“I thought things were better. You were actin’ like we were okay again.” He rubs his fingertips against his scalp in an urgent gesture. “But you were just pretendin’. All day you’ve just been pretendin’.”

His breathing is growing louder. More ragged. He’s focused on a spot in the air past my shoulder.

“Jimmy, please, it’s not like that. Don’t make it sound so bad. I was just trying to do… to…”

“To do what?” He meets my gaze abruptly. Fiercely. “To fool me? To make me think things are fine when they’re not?”

“No! Things are fine.” I’m so upset by both his anger and the pain I sense beneath it that I’m close to tears again. “They’re good. I’m just extra emotional or something. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell do you expect me to be? I been goin’ along believing you while you been floppin’ me around like a puppet.”

“No!” The word comes bursting out. “No, Jimmy, it’s nothing like that. I’m not trying to use you. I’d never do that. I’m just trying to make you… make you…” For some reason, the final word won’t be spoken. Maybe I can predict his reaction to it.

He knows it anyway. “Make me happy? Is that what you been tryin’ to do? Pretend so I’ll be happy when it’s clear as day that you’re not?”

“I am?—”

“Stop lyin’ to me!” He’s not shouting, but he’s loud and gruff. Authoritative.

The tone silences me as it always does. I’m still completely naked and I don’t like it, so I scramble off the bed to grab one of Jimmy’s big T-shirts to pull on.

Trembling helplessly, I stand next to the bed, hugging my arms to my chest. “Please don’t be mad.”

He’s searching my face and body with his eyes, desperately trying to figure out what I’m thinking. He must see something because his expression—his entire presence—freezes. He asks in a raspy whisper, “Are you scared of me, Chloe?”

The horror in his tone is too much for me. Tears spill out of my aching eyes. “No. No, of course not. I know you’d never hurt me.”

“But you’re scared of somethin’.” He’s still staring. Still motionless with that unspeakable frigidity that’s trapped him. “What are you scared of?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but no words come out. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t lie to him—not after how much my lies have hurt him. But I also can’t tell him the truth.

I’d lose everything.

“Oh my fucking God,” he rasps after a long, tense moment, a dark enlightenment dawning on his face. “You think I’m gonna kick you out.”

I hug myself tighter and make a whimpering sound. There’s no way I can hold it back.

---