Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
ROME
I wanted to punish her.
It’s probably fucked up, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
Her stubbornness, the sound of her voice as she reminded me we agreed we were free to fuck other people, the immense feeling of loneliness I’ve felt ever since we parted…
The night I lost everything.
I couldn’t handle it, and I force the thoughts away now as I carry Julianna back to the house.
We haven’t spoken since I assaulted her sweet pussy with my mouth. If it weren’t for the injury to her leg, I might have left her there afterward. Mostly because I need time to wrap my head around what the fuck just happened between us.
Julianna and I have never been very good at staying away from each other. It’s why we’re in this mess to begin with. Married at eighteen. Separated for ten years. Unable to deny this pull to one another.
I carry her up the stairs and into the bathroom.
She wraps her arms around my neck but doesn’t look me in the eye.
Her head is against my chest, and it isn’t until I’ve set her down on the floor in front of the bathtub that I realize it isn’t solely because she’s avoiding me, unable to face me after what we’ve done.
Her skin is pale and she’s whimpering in pain.
My eyes drop to her injury. My shirt is black and soaking wet from the rain, but I can still see the streams of blood down her leg.
“Oh, fuck, Lark.”
“What?” A tiny smile tugs on the corner of her mouth. “I’m fine.” She exhales through her nose and rests her head back against the bathtub.
“Hold on.” I scramble to find the first aid kit under the sink, then fall to my knees in front of her.
She keeps her eyes closed. “How bad is it?”
I wrap my hand around her cheek, guilt slamming into me. I shouldn’t have done what we did outside when her leg was this bad. Her skin is clammy and cool. “Are you lightheaded from the loss of blood or from the earth-shattering orgasm I just gave you outside?”
She snorts, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “Earth-shattering, my ass.” Then she swallows, wincing. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“I’m going to take a look.” I sit back on my heels and carefully loosen the tie I wrapped around her calf.
She doesn’t argue. I don’t know what to think about this. It’s strange when she isn’t fighting me tooth and nail, but I can tell her resolve is gone.
She braces herself, pressing her hands to the floor by her sides.
I peel away my shirt, then lift the shreds of her leggings, rolling them up to her knee.
She hisses in pain while I examine her leg. There are several cuts driving along her skin. From what I can tell, they aren’t deep enough for stitches, but they do look as though they hurt like a bitch.
“I can’t tell how many cuts you have. I’ll need to clean your leg to clear it of the blood.” I lift my eyes to hers. “But I don’t think you need stitches.”
She pops a brow. “So, you’re a doctor now?”
I chuckle, my attention falling to her lips. I haven’t kissed her yet, despite my mouth being all over her outside. “Not a doctor. Just Rome.”
After standing, I place my arms under hers and lift her up. She turns, swinging her legs over the edge of the tub. She grips it hard and hangs her head between her shoulders.
“You okay?” I ask, moving around to the other side. I remove my shoes and sit on the tub opposite her.
“Yeah.” Her shoulders deflate as she looks down at her leg. “I shouldn’t have walked onto the bridge. I forgot how old it was.”
I pick up each of her feet and remove her shoes, careful with her injured leg. I turn the water on and wait for it to heat up before gently washing the blood from her leg. Thankfully, my makeshift tourniquet has stopped the bleeding now.
“I’ve told you a million times. I was nervous when you said you wanted to get married on that bridge, and that was ten years ago.”
“Call me silly but I thought it would be romantic.”
“It was but—”
“We’ve never been the romantic type, Rome.”
Once the blood is mostly washed from her leg, I pour soap onto a washcloth and rest her foot on my knee, using the cloth to gently scrub around the cuts.
“I don’t know if I agree with that,” I argue.
She tips her head back in laughter, and my eyes are immediately drawn to her neck, which my hand was wrapped around earlier.
I want to do that again but restrain myself.
I don’t know where what we did outside put us, but I can’t count on it making any difference to the way she feels about me.
Nothing good ever comes from diving headfirst into this pool with Julianna.
It’s filled with ravenous sharks ready to eat us both alive.
“Was it romantic when I signed you up for an erectile dysfunction newsletter?” She raises her brows. “How about when you broke into my office and filled it with a zillion tiny, little shreds of lined paper?”
“Or writing an article in your brother’s magazine, defaming the reputation I’ve fought to build separately from my parents after what happened with them?” My hand hovers over her injuries while I eye her in silence.
She clamps her lips together and holds her breath.
When the silence is overwhelming, she finally scoffs and sighs. “Rome.”
She looks beautiful in the dim, golden lighting of the bathroom. The darkness of the evening has set in, and the sound of the rain outside is the only sound following my name passing her lips.
I shake my head, not wanting to rehash the article. I dropped the lawsuit, and although the main reason for bringing her here is to protect her, it’s still a form of retribution. Julianna would rather be anywhere in the world than trapped here with me.
I shove aside the guilt I feel for tricking her into coming here and focus on the cuts on her leg again, knowing she wouldn’t have them if it weren’t for me.
But behind the guilt is anger and resentment. Anger and resentment for the night I caught my wife on a date with someone I knew her father dreamed of having for a son in law, only days after we lost our entire future.
“Hey,” she utters quietly, pulling me from my thoughts. “I realized I never said I was sorry.”
I pinch my brow, drop the washcloth into the tub, and grab the first aid kit. “Sorry for what?”
“For what happened to your mom.”
I freeze. The air shifts. The wall I temporarily tore apart is slowly rebuilding brick by brick. My mother is a sensitive topic. Especially when it comes to talking about her with Julianna.
“It was a long time ago,” I mutter, grabbing a roll of gauze and medical tape.
“It was.” She nods, her saddened eyes softening. “Still… I never said it. And I should have.”
“How or why would you?” I close the first aid kit and drop it to the floor. “We agreed to live separately, and at that time, we were a little more disciplined about shutting each other out.”
“That may be, but I also know what it feels like to witness your mother’s murder.”
I hold my breath, resisting the urge to slip back into old habits with Julianna.
I want to be the one to steal her empathy with a kiss and take it for myself.
She’s always been kind in her own way. It’s something I didn’t see until that day in the library.
But ever since the night our lives changed, I’ve wondered if I was wrong.
Perhaps my family’s warning was right all along: Capuletis do nothing but destroy.
Julianna destroyed me that night I caught her with someone else. Even after she’d explained why, it didn’t matter. I’d already lost too much at that point.
Losing my mother days later added more than insult to injury. It eviscerated me, and I haven’t been the same since.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat while unraveling the roll of gauze. I gently press the end of it to her leg and start to wrap it around her cuts. “But there’s a difference when the murderer is your father.”
I can’t look Julianna in the eye. I already know I’ve wounded her without having to look at her face.
White knuckled, she grips the edge of the tub, and I sense her reacting to what I’ve said. She’s vibrating with anger.
“So, what?” she asks, her voice sharp. “You’re comparing our mothers’ murders now? Yours was worse because it wasn’t committed by a stranger?”
Once I’ve reached the top of her ankle, I use the tiny scissors from the kit to cut the end.
I tear off two pieces of tape and apply them to the end of the gauze.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in a deep sigh.
Fuck, it’s difficult not to slip back to how we used to be.
I’ve barely finished placing the tape when she tears her foot from my leg and practically leaps out of the bathtub, despite her obvious pain.
“What is wrong with you?” she says once she’s turned back to me. Her voice is unsteady and her eyes are lined with tears. “No matter how much time has passed, you just can’t help it, can you?”
The sight of her breaks my heart. Why do I always hurt her then immediately regret it? I want to kiss her wounds, stitch them back together—wounds caused by me.
“I’m sorry, Lark.” I step out of the tub and meet her on the other side.
She backs away and limps out of the bathroom, holding out her arm for me to stay back. “I’m so tired of your apologies. You never mean them.”
“I always mean them. I didn’t mean for it to come across like that.”
Her eyebrows slant together. “Then, how did you mean it? Because comparing our mothers’ murders doesn’t exactly sound like casual, friendly conversation.”
“I don’t know.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, stepping closer. “I think I’m just confused.”
“Confused about what?” She asks, her voice slightly softening.
“Being here with you,” I confess. “In this place. Feels like we’re dancing in a cemetery, doesn’t it?”
A tear slips from the corner of her eye, and my heart breaks all over again.
We go from this intense insatiable need to be with each other to pouring gasoline on a fire and burning ourselves in the process.
If I’m going to stay in this cabin with Julianna, I need to find a way to break free from this Montgomery curse.
The curse of hating a Capuleti.
She’s crying silently when I step forward to wipe her tears away. Suddenly, her phone rings, the shrill sound echoing from the foot of the bed.
Sniffing, Julianna wipes her cheeks and takes the call.
“Hey, Dad.” She turns away from me, then looks over her shoulder, eyeing me.
I can hear his voice on the other end when he asks, “Hey, Jules. What’s this I hear about you landing a major client? Your brother tells me it’s going to be a long project, and you’ll be gone a while.”
My stomach churns as I run a hand down the side of my face. I don’t want to leave her like this, but I can’t stay here and listen to her lie. Especially when she’s talking to Kingsten Capuleti.
I inhale a deep breath and do the right thing.
I leave.