He heard the criticism in her tone and wanted to refute it, but not now. Not when she was showing signs of opening up to him. Instead, he stayed quiet, watching her, waiting for her to continue. Most people would, once they got on a roll. But Maddie wasn’t most people and if he was right, her experience wasn’t a common one. She stayed quiet, her lips clamped together so they were lined with white from the pressure of her expression.
“Do you still speak to him?”
Fear – unmistakable – filled her eyes. “No. Never.” Then, with an obvious effort, she smiled at him. “He messages me still. I should change my number.” A frown. “I don’t know why I haven’t done that yet.”
He nodded slowly. “I can have one of my assistants do it for you.”
Her smile was more genuine now. Slowly, she was coming back to him, returning to what he thought of as a normal version of her. “One of your assistants? My, how the other half lives.”
He turned his back on the view, propping his elbows on the railing and looking at her until a hint of pink filled her cheeks.
“That’s okay,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll do it.”
“You can’t just tell him to stop messaging you?”
A quick shake of her head; her smile dropped.
“Tell him it’s over and there’s no point him writing?”
“No.”
“It is over, though?”
“Absolutely.” She swallowed. “I never want to see him again for as long as I live. I hate him.”
It was proof enough. Maddie wasn’t someone who would hate easily. Her ex had done something unforgivable to her and Nico knew deep down that it wasn’t anything run of the mill. It wasn’t an affair or a lie, an argument over staying out too late. Nico walked to her slowly, gently, pressing a hand to her soft cheek, drawing her gaze upwards.
“Maddie, I hope I’m wrong about this, but I don’t think I am.”
“About what?”
“Your ex…did he…” What was wrong with him? Why the hell couldn’t he frame the question? Because what he was about to say was so sickeningly wrong that he hated even shaping the words into a sentence. Except she was terrified and traumatised and he had to be strong for her. It wasn’t his job to overlay his emotions onto her grief.
“Maddie, he hit you, didn’t he?”
Chapter 8
SHE DRANK HALF THE glass of wine in one sip, simply as an excuse to look away, but her heart was slamming into her ribs and her tummy was squeezing. Heat flushed her face and a loud ringing sounded in her ears.
“I don’t know why I didn’t realise sooner,” he was saying quietly
She wanted to reassure him somehow, but she couldn’t. Danger surrounded her. Danger at talking about her relationship with Michael, because somehow it made it more real, rather than just something she could lock away in a part of her brain that she never wanted to go to again. Danger because this man knew her ex, was – or had been – friends with him. Danger because she didn’t want Nico to see her as a woman who would stay with someone like Michael even when academically she knew all the statistics on that, on her reasons for not walking away from him sooner. Danger because she cared what Nico thought of her more than was wise, given their casual relationship status.
“I’m right?”
She shook her head, her hair whipping against her cheek. But then, when she looked at his face, she knew she couldn’t lie to him. She didn’t want to. This thing with Nico would end in a matter of weeks, and she’d never see him again. She could lock him in the same part of her brain she kept Michael, walking away from both of them and not looking back.
She didn’t want to think about the way that made her heart feel all scraped out, the way it tore at her nerve endings.
“Yes.” Her eyes swept shut. She hadn’t expected to feel a rush of relief at admitting that and nor did she want to cry, but tears filled her eyes and she blinked hastily to clear them.
She felt Nico’s tension. It was strange how without saying a word his body could convey so much to her. He looked at her for several seconds, his features unrecognisable, and then he nodded slowly, scanning her face.
“It didn’t start out like that. In the beginning he was charming, if somewhat controlling. But I thought that was a sign of how much he liked me. I was such a gullible fool.” She shook her head. “I should have seen the signs. One time he was driving us to dinner and someone cut him off. He lost it. He was apoplectic. I mean, only for a minute or two but I was shocked by how angry he got over something so minor. Driving in London is…”
“Full of people who cut you off,” he agreed.
“It was a strange reaction but I knew he’d had a busy week. I made excuses for him all the time, even at the beginning. I think to start with he made