He’s part of the reason I’m terrified to settle in. Rowan’s journal professed so many mixed emotions. He was angry, unremorseful, conflicted, and hurt. I can still feel each stroke of his pen as if it were a blow.
“Now you’re speaking to me?” I quip. I guess now is as good a time as any to do this.
In for a penny or whatever.
August sits to the left of me, with Liam sitting next to him while Karl and Sebastian sit on the other side of the dining room table.
Clenching his jaw, Rowan pauses and then speaks, “I wanted you to get settled before we had this conversation.” He picks up the cloth napkin before me, unfolding it and laying it across my lap. My eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. “Don’t look so surprised,” Rowan jokes. “I do have some manners. Just not in the bedroom.”
Snickering, August states, “Smooth. Don’t speak to Riri for days, weeks even, and you’re showing up to dinner with your dick in hand instead of an apology.”
Rowan glares. “I’m not sorry,” he grits out. “I’d do everything I did a million times over if it meant we ended up here with Emma, the babies, and Karl safe.”
“Let’s at least feed Emma before you two set off the next world war,” Liam commands as the servers bring in the dishes.
Steak, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and asparagus are placed in front of me, but I’m stuck on Rowan’s words.
I’m not sorry. . . I’d do it again.
“Choosing to save Karl isn’t the problem. It’s that you, all of you,” I point my steak knife in each of their directions. “Didn’t ever fucking consult me,” I snap, slamming my hand on the table.
“Why don’t you put the knife down, Angel? Then you can yell at us like we deserve,” Karl suggests.
I want to snap back, ‘fuck you,’ but he’s right. “I should stab you for all the fucking liberties you’ve all taken,” I seethe and place the knife down.
“When exactly did you want us to ask you? Huh?” Rowan challenges. “Was it when you ran out of the room, or maybe it was when you packed your bags and ran off without so much as a word?” Rowan’s voice rises with each question. “Wait, let me guess. It was when you cut off all communication with us?”
“Fuck you,” I scream, standing. My chest heaves, and I ignore the thunk the chair makes when it hits the ground. “Fuck you for thinking you have a right to be angry at me for leaving after you ripped my heart out!”
My skin feels tight with rage, and I want nothing more than to punch Rowan in the face before I step on his balls.
“Dove,” Liam tries, but fuck him too.
“You all think it was easy? Like I was living my best life in Colorado?” I snarl. “I was broken and could barely get out of bed for weeks.”
August’s palm lands on my arm, but I shake him off. “You need to sit down before you hurt yourself or the babies,” he orders, picking up my chair. I turn, my nostrils flaring, and I’m rearing for a fight, but the August that greets me is one I’ve never seen. “Sit.” His tone brokers no argument, and I absentmindedly obey.
“Now we’re going to discuss this like adults with two kids on the way,” August continues.
I’m still blinking at him when Sebastian says, “There’s a lot of hurt and anger to go around. No one at this table is absolved from any wrongdoing. We all made mistakes along the way. The key is learning from them.”
Sebastian’s words quell my fury enough to see reason. “You’re right. I’m at fault as much as any of you. I’ll be the first to admit that my emotions fueled me,” I sigh, grabbing my glass of water and sipping.
“And we should’ve consulted you??”
“So she and Karl could’ve died?” Rowan states, interrupting Sebastian. “There’s no scenario where we could tell her shit and you all know it. Stop fucking placating her, and be honest.”
Rowan spins to face me. “I wasn’t going to let Karl die or put you in harm’s way. So, if that means your feelings get a little hurt, then so be it. It’s better to be alive to feel them than to be dead and be in the know.”
I peer down at my plate, my appetite long gone, before meeting Rowan’s turbulent gaze. “I would never ask you to do anything that could hurt any of you. If you think that, then you don’t know me, and maybe we aren’t what I thought we were becoming.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it, Emma,” Liam replies. “Do we have shit to work out? Hell yes. But that doesn’t mean this-” He waves between us. “-isn’t real or right.”
“You’re hurt, Angel. Rightfully so. But don’t you ever try to say some fuck shit like that again, or I’ll have Liam tie your ass up in a room until we each convince you otherwise,” Karl declares.
August snorts. “And daddy count ’em ups, over there, can tally how bad you’ve been.”
“Is everything a joke to you guys?” Rowan snaps. “She needs to understand we won’t compromise on her safety.”
“Says the dick who was talking about not having manners in the bedroom,” I retort.
Rowan balls his hands into fists on the table as his shoulders tense. “Is anything I say to you going to be thrown back in my face as an argument? If you’re looking for an apology for my choices-you won’t get one.”
Reaching my quota for bullshit in one sitting, I push back from the table and rise out of my chair. “You, Rowan Calloway, are the biggest, dumbest tool.” Then, I storm from the room, not caring how terrible my clapback is.
ROWAN
“You better go fix this shit, you twatwaffle, or I’m going rearrange your face like Picasso,” Karl threatens.
“Why? So you can dip your d??”
The serrated edge of the steak knife presses against my Adam’s apple. “Finish that sentence, Rowan. I dare you,” August spits, and I know I’ve gone too far.
Even if she can’t hear me, Emma doesn’t deserve my vitriol for a situation she was thrust into. “I won’t,” I state.
August waits, his hazel eyes doing nothing to mask his fury.
“I don’t know what your deal is, man, but fix it. I won’t tell you again-any of you. We’ve fucked up enough for ten lifetimes. We brought our bullshit to her front door. Now we’re going to make it right,” August commands.
My nostrils flare at his reprimand. Everyone is like fix it-make it right. “What do you think I’ve been doing, August? Sitting on my ass?”
“Rowan,” Liam tries, but I wave him off and stand.
“None of you assholes had to be the one to reject her. You got to just avoid her. I-” I beat my chest. “I had to be the one, for months, to make snide comments or publicly show that dumpster fire cunt, Samantha, affection.”
They all stare at me-none of them making a move to speak. “Fuck this shit. I don’t need this bullshit right now,” I exclaim, striding from the room.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.