Because Of Love

Rafe looked down at Talia’s face, twisted with worry. Just moments ago, she looked like she was ready to challenge him and now, she looked at him like she used to those many months ago when he still suffered heavily from the anxiety and panic disorder. Like she was ready to wrap her arms around him and fight his demons away. And he felt…he fought the urge to grab his chest and fold to the floor. He felt tired, like giving up. He felt defeated.

What was wrong? Everything was wrong! Every damn thing!

But he couldn’t say that to her. He couldn’t risk her life-his children’s lives for a nightmare that should never have happened. The guilt weighed so heavily on him, hell, he wanted to curl up on the floor and die.

It was his fault, it was all his fault. She was right to hate him. He hated himself! And if it wasn’t for them, this family that was currently carried in Talia’s body, the only one out of the two he wasn’t ashamed to admit to, he would drive his car into a fucking wall and leave this god forsaken world behind.

Inferno! His own family!

He had just lived the worst hour of his entire life and despite the guilt he felt, he just wanted to see her, to hold her.

No, he didn’t deserve to hold her.

He would only allow himself to just see her, make sure she was alright, then he would leave and… slowly die out of shame and guilt.

Instead he bucked up and said, “Clearly you have a different definition of what bed rest is to the rest of us.” There was no reason for her to be burdened by his unstable emotions.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Way to avoid the question.”

He tried to smile but his lips shook under the strain so he gave up on that and just kept his face stoic. “Way to not listen to doctor’s orders.”

Because he really didn’t want to keep the back and forth going, or think for that matter, he picked her up and stepped further into the condo. He kicked the door shut and matched to the bedroom, where he carefully deposited her on to the bed.

“This is what bed rest means.”

Her hands pressed to the bed behind her, she held herself up and looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “You’re trying to make jokes…. which means whatever it is, it’s really bad.”Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

He pushed his fists into his pants pockets to hide how tightly clenched they were. Really bad was an understatement.

He felt her hand on his right wrist and he looked down at it. How he wished he deserved the comfort it gave.

“You want to talk about it?”

She sounded like she really meant it. He scoffed at himself. Of course she did. She wasn’t like the rest of his family. Insincere. Selfish. Self-centered. Monsters!

He bit down hard on his teeth and struggled to reel his emotions in. She didn’t need this, he reminded himself. Bedrest, peace, quiet, calm, that’s what she needed. Everything else, he would deal with.

He took a fortifying breath and shifted his gaze to her, “Just extremely tired and worried.”

“Worried about what?”

“If you stay in bed and do as you’re told, that, will be completely taken care of.”

Her head cantered to the side, “Something’s off with you.”

Schooling his face he asked, “What?”

She shook her head, “You’re being nice. You’re not snarling at me.”

He chuckled, unable to control it. If she only knew. “I used them all up today.”

“And,” she dragged the word then paused. One, two, three, four seconds ticked by, each one eating at him, before she said, “You are using my situation as an excuse to not tell me the truth.”

“What makes you think that?” he murmured.

“I know you.” Her voice brokered no arguments. Her confidence was almost comforting.

A sad smile pulled at his lips. “You do?”

“Enough to know you didn’t drug me.”

That makes one of us.

If he had trusted she wouldn’t ever cheat on him, he probably wouldn’t be feeling like an ass at that moment. Instead, he’d put the cherry on the cake his family had baked by getting her fired and making her loose the house she had saved every penny to get.

She loved that house, he loved that house and now… He deserved to be lynched!

Rafe nodded, feeling the exhaustion creep up the back of his neck. The onset of a killer migraine. She was trying to steer them to the one place he didn’t want to visit. What he wanted was to escape, have a few minutes to himself to just breath.

“So, enough to know we aren’t having this discussion? I meant it when I said the subject was closed.”

She threw her hands up, “Rafe-”

‘We’ll discuss it after the babies are born,” he said cutting her off, “Unless you are too impatient to wait and don’t care about your collective health.”

She crossed her arms over her top chest-more like the top curve of her belly, “That’s down right dirty.”

“I’m not known for playing fair.” He moved to his wardrobe, pulled it open and withdrew a blanket. He moved back to her on the bed and covered her with it. “Especially with difficult people who don’t listen to orders.”

She grumbled under her breath and he couldn’t help the smile that commanded his face. She did that when she was cursing someone out and didn’t want them to hear.

“Fine.” She sunk into the bed and lay on her left side. “But we will discuss it. The subject is not closed.”

“Go to sleep Talia.” He ordered, fought the urge to kiss her and walked out of the room, leaving her alone. He found himself fighting a lot of things recently. When was it going to end? The exhaustion weighed down on him.

He’d just closed the door when Carrie pounced. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

He walked away from her and to the kitchen, “I didn’t tell her a lot of things. You’re going to have to be specific.”

“Rafe!” she half yelled, controlling the volume of her voice and he knew it was for Talia’s benefit, not his.

He opened a cupboard to expose his little bar. He pulled out a whiskey and a glass. Poured himself a healthy dose and was about to return the bottle to its place when he thought better of it. He took it with him to the living room.

“Rafe!”

The hand holding the filled glass that had been lifting to his lips changed course and stopped. He held it out at her, lifting his index finger.

“Carrie, you may not have noticed, but I am not in the mood to do anything but drink right now. Why don’t you take this free time and move your stuff to the condo downstairs. I’ll be staying here with Talia until she gives birth.”

Her mouth opened to argue but he raised a brow in warning. He was running out of the little patience he had left. When it snapped shut, he turned away and continued the short trek to the couch, sipping from his glass. The brown liquid burned as it went down. Exactly what he needed.

“What about your stuff?” she huffed, not caring to hide her irritation.

He was her boss and yet she didn’t care she was showing how annoyed she was with him at the moment. But this wasn’t a typical employer-employee situation. Right now, at this very moment, she was Talia’s best friend and he was… undeserving to be stuck under the bottom of her shoe.

“Antonio is there now, getting them.”

“Does Antonio do everything for you?”

He turned to where she stood at the door now, holding it ajar and met her snide remark with a deathly glare, “Yes. Including keeping me from committing murder.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits but she didn’t say a word. Smart woman. She matched out and closed the door behind her. He gave her credit for not banging it. He may have deserved it but Talia didn’t and she didn’t need the added stress.

He sunk down into the leather couch, stared blindly at the flat screen TV, his mind wandering unconsciously to the worst hour of his life.

Rafe had left the office right after Talia and Carrie had, and drove straight to the estate. He brought his Ferrari to a screeching halt in the reception driveway and quickly jumped out of the car. Anticipating his mother running interference, he took the path at the side of the house to the pool house. He had only a few minutes to catch his brother unawares. Renaldo had a habit of paying the servants to alert him of Rafe’s arrival in the aftermath of one of his messes. But he wouldn’t be so lucky to make his escape now.

Rafe caught him by the pool, a towel over his head as he rubbed his hair dry. Quickly, Rafe moved behind him, holding the towel over his face, his other arm wrapped around his neck in a choke-hold.