He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t want reporters seeing him here and causing you more grief.”
“Reporters? Oh, goody!” She climbed out of bed, surprising him. She shuffled to the window, pulled the blinds back, and started to lift her gown.
Shocked, he grabbed her hands. “What the hell are you doing?”
She grinned. “Might as well give them a show, right?”
He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. She dropped the act, holding his gaze. “Thomas,” she said softly, “you two need to stop making decisions for me about my comfort level with our situation.”
He studied the floor. “I don’t want people bothering you, Nevvie.”
She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “I love both of you. Somehow we need to figure out how to get back to what we had.”
“It’s all his fault.”
“Shh.” She put a finger on his lips. “We are a family, the three of us. Suck it up and deal with it, do whatever you need to do to get to that point. Quit treating me like I need to be protected from the harsh, cruel world. I’d rather deal with it head-on.”
She stepped closer and put her arms around his neck. “I am the wife of Thomas Kinsey, a well-respected architect. I am also the wife of Tyler Paulson, a bestselling author. I am proud to be your wife, even if not legally recognized as such by the state of Florida. I love both of you, and I’m willing to deal with public opinion if both of you are by my side. Got it?”
“It’s not easy for me to pretend it didn’t happen. If he hadn’t talked me into this hare-brained scheme—”
“I’m not asking you to pretend anything. I’m asking for you to deal with it, with us as a family, not hold it in and let it ruin what we’ve got.”
“I can’t promise you that right now, Nevvie.”
She held his arm as he helped her back to bed. “Then you think on it and tell me what needs to happen to get you to that place. It’s what I want.” She settled against the pillows and played dirty. Dropping her voice to a sultry whisper, she asked, “Am I still your little slave?”
He nodded, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Master promised anything I wanted, didn’t he?”
He nodded again.
She hardened her voice. “Then you figure it out so we can make it happen.”
The doctors discharged Nevvie fourteen days after the attack. Thomas’ chill toward Tyler still hadn’t thawed. Thomas protectively scooped her from the car and carried her inside, making Tyler open the door and carry her things. Then he laid her on the couch, where he’d already prepared a comfy nest of pillows. Ty wasn’t the only one who could do things, even if he thought he was.
She could manage on the couch more easily than in their large bed. Frankly, he didn’t want Tyler sharing a bed with her. He’d deal with things once she was stronger, but he refused to fight with Ty while she recovered. It wasn’t good for her, and he wouldn’t be the one to heap more distress on her.
Once she healed, hell would break loose, guaranteed. And if Ty started any shit he wouldn’t hesitate to deck the bastard. For the first time since they’d declared their love for each other nearly thirteen years earlier, he could honestly say he hated Tyler.
She grimaced in pain as she adjusted her position. He hovered, wanting to help.
“I’m okay, Tom,” she said, her voice weak from pain and exhaustion. “I just need to find the right position.” She grimaced. “That sounded bad, didn’t it?”
He smiled, his first real moment of humor since her attack, and gently kissed her lips. “It sounded beautiful, sugar. Just hearing your voice and having you home is fantastic. I’ll get your medicine. You’re due for a pain pill, and your antibiotics. Do you want some soup or hot tea or—”
She squeezed his hand. “I want you to calm down. I’m okay. I’m not dying.”
His vision doubled, tripled, and his knees buckled as he dropped to the floor next to her. His voice a hoarse whisper, he held her hand to his cheek, kissing and nuzzling it.
“Baby girl, I thought you were. I thought I’d lost you.” He buried his head against her and sobbed, finally releasing his pent-up emotion.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, bending her head to his, whispering to him, trying to soothe him. He’d been so strong, so solid this whole time. She’d wondered how he was dealing. Here was her answer: he hadn’t dealt with it at all. Normally he would lean on Tyler, but without that he’d simply pushed it back and focused on her.
Wracked with guilt and self-loathing, Tyler watched from the kitchen. Thomas was absolutely right. This was his fault. How their sweet Nevvie could forgive him was beyond comprehension. And Thomas also paying for his stupidity.
Tyler retreated to their bedroom and shut the door, leaving them alone for the rest of the day.
Thomas didn’t come to bed. Tyler walked to the kitchen around midnight to get a drink and saw Nevvie in the living room, caught a glint of her eye from the flickering TV screen as she watched. Thomas wasn’t there. He must have gone to her old room. He walked to the doorway and watched her, hating himself, loving her, loving Thomas, and his heart breaking because he felt that love slipping through his fingers. He knew he had no one to blame except his own stupid self.
She sensed his presence. “Hey, Ty.” She lifted her hand and he forced his feet across the living room to her side. He sank to the floor next to the couch, taking her hand.
“How do you feel, sweetheart? Can I get you anything?”
She brushed the hair from his forehead. “I want my family back. I want the two of you to kiss and make up.”
He choked back his sob. “How can you forgive me?”
“Because I love you. Yes, I was pissed, but I’ve had a lot of time to think. About how you guys treated me from day one. Then that stupid bitch tried to convince me I was ‘mentally abused.’ I thought, why was I standing up for you if I was so pissed at you?”
She stroked his cheek. “From the beginning you guys took care of me, even when I worked for you. You always tried to make things perfect. When you found out what kind of coffee I loved, you always made it. My birthday breakfast was perfect, you made my favorite foods. You used to wear shorts on Thursdays until I mentioned one day when you’d dressed up how nice you looked, then you dressed like that every Thursday. How long did it take you to find the necklace?”
He looked away, unable to meet her intense gaze. “I pinched the magazine from the recycling bin after you left that afternoon. It took me a month to find one as close to it as I could.”
“See? That’s you. People who don’t know you, they think you’re a control freak. I’ll admit I did, too, at first. But I realized from the date on the file, you planned the night of the party for weeks. That’s right, isn’t it?”
He nodded, still unable to look at her. She gently tipped his chin so she could see his eyes. He cried, tears streaming down his face, breaking her heart.
“Ty,” she whispered, “I was stupid to run away like I did. I should have locked myself in our room and calmed down and then had it out with you instead of storming off, but I got mad and scared. When I had time to put it all together I realized you spent weeks planning that night. At first I thought it was because you only wanted to get in my pants. Then I realized it was because you wanted it to be perfect. The script stopped at leaving the party. You spent all that time and effort for me. Either of you could have made love to me the week before, and you didn’t, you waited. Okay, so Tommy was interrupted, but he could have tried again and didn’t.”
He nodded, beyond words, his heart shattered, not daring to hope for a miracle.
She tried to dry his tears. “I love you, Tyler. I don’t love you because you’ve forced me to love you, or because of any sex games we play. I know you’d rather die than hurt me. You would die for me. Both of you would. I know you turn yourself inside out to make things perfect for others, you think of everyone before yourself. People who don’t know you don’t see it like that. Now, I do. You do it because you’re terrified of people not liking or wanting you. I don’t even think Thomas realizes that.”