Page 89 of From Rome, With Hate

“Ju…” I breathe out, swallowing the sour bile in my throat. “Julianna.”

I shove at Macy again. She hasn’t moved, despite Julianna staring directly at us.

“How could you, Rome?” Julianna shouts. Her eyebrows relax.

It’s as if she’s pulled me out of a deep slumber.

She takes an uneasy step back, her hand flying to her stomach. Her tear-filled eyes drop to my feet like she’s unable to look me in the face.

“Lark, wait.” I work the words around my tongue, trying to get them out.

Julianna’s jaw clenches and her hands form into fists at her side. With a cutting glare that slices me open, she lifts her chin. “Ihateyou.” Her body vibrates and her bottom lip quivers. “I hate you.”

Then she’s gone, slipping into the crowd behind her.

“Lark!” I shout over the pounding music.

Macy doesn’t seem to care that Julianna has interrupted us or gotten the hint I’m not even fucking remotely interested. Herhand slips over my thigh and straight to my dick. Inhaling a sharp breath, I push her off.

She flies back, screaming at me through the heavy music, but my feet are already carrying me in the direction of Julianna.

“Lark!” I shout, pushing and elbowing my way through the crowd, standing on my toes every few steps to find where she is. I catch the dark red, velvet ribbon tied to the back of her head on the opposite side of the room. “Julianna!”

The sea of people dancing and socializing around me stop long enough to look over their shoulders. I don’t give a fuck if they hear me calling Julianna’s name out loud. My wife is far from my enemy, and I don’t give a shit who knows it.

There’s entirely too much distance between us.

“Julianna!” I yell again, desperate to not lose her. Ican’tlose her, too.

I’m panicking, fighting through the nausea as I make my way to the front of the apartment. When I step out into the hallway, I crane my neck in both directions.

Julianna’s gone.

My legs are weak, and my world spins. I fall back against the wall and work to catch my breath. Black clouds ebb my vision as I look up at the ceiling, a sense of hopelessness coming over me. Sliding against the wall, I fall like an anchor into the sea. My face smashes against the marble floor and I stare blankly at the wall across from me, ignoring the intense pain blooming across my cheek.

The black clouds forming at the edges of my vision grow until, eventually, that’s all I see. Then I let it consume me, dragging me straight to oblivion.

TWENTY-FIVE

ROME

I wake up to her singing.

Cracking my eyes open against the morning sun, I squint through the brightness, searching for my wife.

She isn’t in bed, and when I sit up, I follow the sound of her voice to the closet.

“Whisky on ice, sunset and vine,” she sings loudly. “You’ve ruined my life by not being mine.”

Stopping in the threshold, I place my hands on the door frame and watch her. She’s sifting through her clothes hanging on her side of the closet. I haven’t been back in here since Julianna took over the bedroom. The last time I saw this closet, it was filled with nothing but my suits and a few casual items. One side of the closet is nothing but black and white, the other half filled with colors and sequins and feathers.

She switches to humming the song while grabbing a hanger off the rack and holding out the shirt. After a few seconds, she starts singing the words again.

“You make me so happy, it turns back to sad.”

“Does this song happen to be about me?” I tease, stepping into the closet.

Startled, she jumps, a yelp falling from her pretty mouth. She’s wearing my black T-shirt and nothing else. The bottom hem dances across her thighs, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so sexy before. Seeing her in my shirt has my stomach somersaulting and my dick instantly hard.