“Your bullshit. This all goes back to your inability to accept affection, love, even a damn compliment. The second you get something, you pull away. Be a man and accept what I said. Be a bigger man and say it back.”
His eyes shifted back and forth quickly as he looked at me, his body rigid with anger.
Was I stupid for assuming he was ready for this? Our feelings for each other were so obvious. Kamikaze was gone, and not once had he asked me to leave. I’d never tried to go either. We were together every night, ditching the condoms and making love as husband and wife. Did he really fail to grasp all of that? Hearing that someone loved him really scared him that much? “I’m not going to go away, Maverick. I’m not going to die, disappear, or turn my back on you.” I wasn’t going to become a thing of the past like his family. I was there to stay—forever. I was Mrs. DeVille, and I was staying that way. There was no one else I wanted to be with, and there was no one else he wanted to be with. We were together—until death parted us.
Without answering, Maverick turned around and walked up the stairs. His strong frame carried him to the second landing smoothly, and then he turned to take the steps up to his bedroom.
I stayed at the bottom in my pink dress, feeling abandoned and forgotten. That night started so beautifully, but then I expressed my feelings in the best song I’ve ever written, and it scared him.
I should be livid at his reaction.
Pussy.
But if he wanted to act that way, that was fine with me. He could take all the time he needed to sulk in his bedroom and brood while he was at the office. After he finished throwing his hissy fit, he would come to his senses and ask forgiveness.
And I would have a hell of a time making him earn it.
I stayed in my room all day and didn’t bother venturing to other parts of the house. Maverick would make sure he didn’t cross my path. He would take his meals in his office and avoid me like the plague.
Asshole.
I was hurt that I’d put my feelings on display and he’d shot me down so coldly. Those lyrics came from my heart. They were real, and I didn’t regret writing them down. I didn’t regret composing that song.
I just wished Maverick would let go of his issues.
Losing the love of his family messed him up badly. His father was an ultimate asshole, so Maverick was incapable of accepting love, only insults. His shell had hardened so much that nothing could penetrate his exterior while his guard was up.
I thought his guard wasn’t up around me.
I thought we were closer than that.
He could pretend he was incredulous about my feelings, but that was bullshit.
And he could pretend he didn’t feel that too…but that was also bullshit.
In time, he would come to his senses. I just had to be patient.
I watched TV for most of the day then wrote music for the second part of the afternoon. I was hurt by his reaction, so it was the perfect time to compose something raw, a deep catharsis. Loving a man incapable of love was quite the task to take on.
But I was willing to try.
When night deepened, my impatience started to get the best of me. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend who lived separate lives in different places. We were husband and wife, two people with the same last name.
We shouldn’t be acting like this.
He should be the bigger man and come to my bedroom. Even if he didn’t want to talk, we should still be sleeping together. We should be screaming at each other but making love when it was all over.
Now that I had a husband I adored, that was exactly what I wanted to do…for the rest of my life.
I left my bedroom and headed down the hall to take the stairs. I knew Maverick felt the same way; he was just incapable of accepting love without any demands in return. He wasn’t used to someone caring about him for him…and nothing else. Maybe I needed to be patient. Maybe I needed to hold his hand and get him through this. The man had put a gun to his forehead and pulled the trigger several times for me…of course he loved me.
I’d almost reached the staircase when I heard a woman laughing.
“No wonder why you’re in such good shape if you walk up these stairs every day.”
I stopped in my tracks because it wasn’t Abigail or one of the maids. She sounded trashy, like a dumb girl he’d just picked up at the bar. But that couldn’t be true because Maverick would never do that to me.