Page 90 of Cruel Embers
“I want to apologise, say how sorry I am, but no words can justify how much I hate myself right now,” he admits.
It hurts me to see him like this, so defeated.
“It was all bollocks. Naomi kept lashing out at him, not the other way around. There’s even camera footage proving it.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“She’s not well,” I say because clearly, she needs professional help. “I’m sorry.”
Dropping his hand, he turns his knee, bumping mine as he stares at me.
“You’re the last person who should be apologising over any of this.”
His fingers flex between mine.
“It’s not like any of this is your fault either.”
He raises his eyebrows again. “Seriously, Violet, are you even listening to yourself right now? You did hit your head. Maybe you’re in shock.”
If it weren’t for the pain, I’d be shaking my head at him now.
“I was the one who continued to be sucked into Naomi’s bullshit. So yeah, what happened today is all on me.”
It doesn’t matter what I say. He isn’t going to listen to reason. I can see he’s resigned to wholeheartedly putting the blame on himself.
“I’m okay, though, Nathan.”
He shakes his head. “No, you’re not.” He brings his free hand up to my temple, but I let out an involuntary shiver before getting close enough, causing him to drop his hand almost immediately.
“So, what, you’re not going to touch me now?”
He’s torn. I can see it in his eyes. “You should get some rest, Violet.”
His continuing to call me Violet instead of Tink makes me uneasy.
Nathan moves to stand up, but I grip his hand tighter. “Please, don’t go.” It’s impossible to miss the urgency in my voice. Something in my gut is telling me not to let him walk away, that if he does, we won’t be able to move past today.
“Talk to me. Tell me what happened after I left?”
His shoulders slump. “Not much to tell. Christopher showed us home camera footage of Naomi attacking him. And now he likely has one of me doing the same fucking thing.”
Pulling his hand from mine, he lowers his face into his hands, shaking his head.
I rub his back, but he shrugs me off.
“Please don’t push me away, Nathan.”
His nostrils flare, and his frown deepens. “You’d rather I shove you into a glass table instead.” He clenches his fists. “And all because I acted without thinking.”
I flinch, his words hurting more than any physical blow.
“Of course not, but that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
My emotions get the better of me, and I try to push them away, the urge to cry attempting to surface.
“I know,” he says. “It’s been a rough day, and you should get some rest.”
He’s right, and yes, I’m exhausted, but I feel like he’s desperate to get away from me, and if I let him leave like this, I don’t know what that means for us.
