Page 67 of His Obsession
“It is when you use it to make decisions for me.” She stands, arms crossing over her chest. “You keep dressing it up like protection, but the result is always the same. You decide. I react.”
“I’m not making decisions for you.”
“You walked into this room and told me we need to leave town.”
“Because the threat changed.”
“And you didn’t think I deserved to be part of the conversation before you decided?” she asks.
I look away for half a second. It’s enough of an answer.
She lets out a short breath and shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”
“I’m not trying to control you.”
“Then have a conversation with me about it instead of telling me what it’s going to be!” she yells.
“I’m not Adrian,” I shoot back.
Her expression hardens immediately. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask, even though I already know exactly where I fucked up.
“Use him to end the argument.” Her voice is lower now, which is somehow worse than when she was snapping at me. “I knowyou’re not Adrian. That doesn’t mean everything you do is automatically fine.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You don’t have to.” She gestures toward me, frustrated and exhausted and too smart to let me hide behind good intentions. “You get that look. Like you’re so sure you’re right that the rest of us should be grateful when we finally catch up.”
“That’s because Iamright.”
The second it leaves my mouth, I know I should’ve kept it there.
Her eyes flash. “There he is.”
“Val…”
“No.Don’tValme.” She grabs the legal pad off the sofa, probably because she needs something in her hands or she’ll start throwing things. “You want to take me somewhere, but you won’t tell me where. You talked to Nico before you talked to me. You and Matteo are doing God knows what behind the scenes. And now I’m supposed to nod along because I’m pregnant and scared and you’ve decided the plan is reasonable?”
“The planisreasonable.”
“But you didn’t ask me to consent to it.”
I drag a hand over my jaw. “If you stay in LA and he gets to you, how much does your consent matter then?”
Her face goes pale.
I hate that I said it. I hate more that I mean it. She walks past me before I can stop her. I let her go because every instinct I have right now is wrong.
I don’t sleep much. Between Matteo’s updates, a call from New York, and the ugly weight of that fight sitting in my chest, there’s no point in trying. Close to dawn, I decide enough time has passed for me to apologize before starting the argument again.
The guest room door is open. She hasn’t been sleeping there, but she goes there when she wants space. I knock once on the open door anyway and step inside. The room is empty. The bed hasn’t been slept in. The closet door is cracked, and the small overnight bag she keeps there is gone.
25
VALENTINA
Imake it upstairs, shut myself in the guestroom, and immediately want to break something expensive. Thankfully, Sebastian owns a lot of expensive things, so I have options. I don’t actually break anything though, mostly because I’m not a child and because I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I grab my bag from the closet and start packing with absolutely no plan.
