Loving a Man Who Forgot Me Novel Chapter 5
“What?” she shrieked and ripped her hand from mine. “I thought you said you weren’t leaving me!”
I put my hands on her pointy shoulders. “Not like that, relax. I just meant, we could both use some space. We’ve been fighting so much, it’s stressing both of us out. I need out of the city and to clear my head. Shit with the band isn’t good, and I haven’t been able to write with everything going on. I’m going to go up and see my parents. You can have the place to yourself for the weekend. Invite the girls over, arrange a spa day, go shopping, whatever you want.”
She blinked rapidly. “You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”
I sighed and withdrew my hands. “Kat, don’t. Please not tonight.”
“You are, aren’t you?” she repeated more hysterically, raising her voice. “Your precious fucking Abbi!” She slammed her palm against my chest. “Your whore on the side!” She smacked me again and I caught her wrist.
“Enough,” I barked. Just hearing Abbi’s name on her lips was like a knife in the gut. It was wrong in every way.
“No,” she screamed in my face, tugging her wrist until I let go.
Camera flashes were going off around us, and I just prayed the music would cover the audio if anyone was recording.
“You want to know why I don’t trust you?” she continued yelling, “Because I’m not stupid! What’d you do with the picture that used to be by your bed when I moved in, huh? Or the one in your guitar case? And who do you write all those songs about? Because we both know it isn’t me!”
“What do you want from me? I can’t make her not exist, but you’re here, not her.”
“But you wish she was, don’t you?” she accused.
I couldn’t do this. Not with her. Not again, not when every time it destroyed something else inside of me. I reached for her arm, but she smacked it aside. “Don’t! Just admit it! She’s the reason you never let me in, the reason you don’t want to give us a real chance. Just admit she’s the reason you don’t love me!”
I set my mouth in a hard line and said nothing.
Some of the fury drained from her and she visibly deflated. “You’re supposed to put me first. I’m your wife.”
“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?” I yelled.
She flinched. I tipped my head down and pinched the bridge of my nose.
Get it together before you make it worse.
I held my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t want to fight Kat. I’m just going to go.” I took one step past her and was jerked backwards. She had her fist curled in my shirt and her other hand groping my pockets.
“What are you doing?” I pushed her off, but she grabbed me again.
“Where’s your phone? Let me see it? I want to see if you’ve been texting her.”
“Dammit Katya!” I grabbed her shoulders and set her back a ways, careful not to knock her on her ass, and dragged my phone from my pocket. “I haven’t talked to Abbi since I put that damn ring on your finger! I chose you! Why can’t you see that? You want my phone so damn badly?” I held it up and then launched it across the room at the back wall. It crashed against the brick and clattered to the floor in pieces.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Gabe came running over and stepped between us. My chest and shoulders heaved with every breath. “Guys you gotta stop this.”
“No problem. I’m out of here.” I locked eyes with Kat. “I’ll be back on Monday.”
I spun on my heels, ignoring the stares and wide-eyed looks. I nearly plowed over the waitress who scurried toward me, holding the bottle of Jameson I requested. She held it up, her face stuck in a wince. “I already charged the bottle if you still want it?”
I snatched it from her hand and proceeded toward the staircase.
Not a single waitress or bouncer said shit as I stormed out of the club, carrying the bottle with me. “Keys?” I growled at the valet attendant. I wasn’t about to stand around on the sidewalk for every paparazzi and tabloid junkie that hung outside the exclusive club while I waited for him to bring the Ferrari around. The guy didn’t protest, just tossed me the keys and pointed to the left.
Wasn’t hard to spot the cherry red sports car, even among the other rides of the elite clientele the popular nightclub boasted. I tossed the bottle on the passenger seat and folded myself behind the wheel.
Five minutes later I was winding my way through the streets of New York, headed north, out of the city.