NICOLE
As soon as Roman walks through the door, I know I wasn’t mistaken over the phone and something is so damn off about him.
I just don’t know what it is. He won’t tell me.
He walks toward me and kisses me, but he doesn’t grab me the way he usually does or joke around. We have the apartment to ourselves because Mason went on a date with his colleague and he told me he’d likely sleep over at her place. He even packed a bag. I didn’t tell him Roman would be coming over, but I don’t think there’ll be a problem.
My hope was that we’d spend some time together and have fun. Unwind. It’s been a hectic few days and I want nothing more than to forget my problems in his arms.
I even made dinner.
But he’s so off. He hadn’t said ten words to me since he walked into the apartment and sat down on the couch.
He’s staring at the wall, deep in thought.
His silence is slowly starting to frustrate me.
I hand him a plate of carbonara, which used to be his favorite dish whenever he came over, but he barely glances at the plate before he starts eating.I sit down beside him on the couch, the plate warming my thighs. At first, I decide to stay silent so that maybe he’ll snap out of this and realize that I haven’t said a word because I’m upset, but the silence just stretches and he doesn’t say anything to fill it.
I stop eating and stare at the side of his plate, but he eats absentmindedly and doesn’t even realize I’m staring at him.
“Roman,” I say a little too sharply. This is absurd. I don’t even know how to react to this.
At this point, it’s starting to feel like I’m the one who did something wrong. My calling his name snaps him out of his thoughts and he looks at me like he’s only just realizing that I’m sitting right in front of him.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong now? Or do you expect me to believe that everything is truly alright when you’re not even paying attention to me?”
Roman places his half-eaten plate on the coffee table. “I’m sorry. Were you saying something?”
I scoff in disbelief, grab his plate, and stand up, heading toward the kitchen. I dump the food in the garbage disposal, then start washing the plates. A few seconds later, Roman is behind me, putting his hands on my hips.
“Baby..”
He trails off, not finishing his sentence. Earlier, when hewas being strange and silent, I thought it was because he was genuinely busy and hadn’t had time for me. Now? I’m convinced that something is seriously wrong and he won’t share it with me.
Why? We made a pact not to keep things from each other anymore, no matter how serious.
He drops his head to the crook of my neck and traits kisses along my exposed shoulder. “I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to be.”
I stay silent. I don’t care about how immature it may seem; he ignored me, so I’ll ignore him. Until he understands that we’re supposed to share things. updated by jobnib.com Hell, I didn’t want to tell him about my biological father until had things sorted out, but I did anyway. “I’m in hell, Nikki,” he states, and the worst part is that ve never heard him sound this tormented before in all these months that we’ve been together.
I drop the soapy plate in the sink. “Tell me what’s wrong, then!”
“I can’t,” he murmurs against my skin.
“Why?”
“You’ll hate me for it.”
“No, I won’t. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, even more ridiculous than this attitude of yours.”Roman says nothing. I turn around to look at him. His brows are drawn together and he looks rough. I wipe my wet hand against the side of my dress before placing it over his cheek. “‘ll always love you. No matter what.
Whatever this is, we can work through it together but the important thing is that you don’t keep this to yourself.
Share it with me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Before Roman can say a word, the door opens and in watks-Mason and the woman I’m assuming is his date. When he sees us standing in the kitchen, I see surprise written all over his face, sprinkled with annoyance at seeing Roman.


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