"What?" she gasped. He watched her for a few seconds, frowning. "Nate doesn't–" she started.
"I know an abusive husband when I see one," he said in an even tone.
"What?! Nate doesn't abuse me!" she exclaimed and jerked her hand back.
"Sure," he said just as calmly.
"No, he doesn't! He's– He's very patient with me! And why would you even think– You don't know how hard it is to live with a nutter!" she blurted out and jerkily shifted away from him on the bed.
He gave her a long look - and this one was definitely sardonic.
"Unless he is the nutter in this scenario," he said, "you're hiding your head in the sand."
Fiona huffed and opened her mouth, but then closed it not sure what to say. What a hogwash! Where's this rubbish coming from?
His unemotional face suddenly made her livid - who does he think he is to dissect her life?! - and she clenched her fists.
"You don't know anything about me– or my marriage!" She was raising her voice. "I met you yesterday! And– and– Literally, just yesterday!"
He tilted his head and looked her over.
"And you don't know– You don't know what I am like!" she said and shook her head. "Why would you even think I'm abused?!"
"I had a friend," he said. "It took her three years to get out of an abusive marriage. She also had a drug habit, I was her sponsor. It's the little things," he added, his eyes attentive on her face. "The low self-esteem. The lack of independent opinion. And you flinch when we touch."
Yeah, the latter would be just because his body affects you so much - as for the rest... what?!
"I have an independent opinion!" she said loudly.
"It's like 'Simon says' when you talk," he deadpanned. "Except it's 'Nate says.'"
Fiona opened her mouth again - and froze like that.
"And you don't seem like a nutter," he said.
"Well, you see, here you're wrong," she said venomously. "Like I said, you don't know anything about me." She crossed her arms on her chest. "If you knew what he had to put up with, you wouldn't be so eager to judge him."
He once again didn't answer, and just raised one eyebrow - and because she'd fancied this gesture so much before, she saw red.
"I. Am. Bonkers," she said. "I'm legitimately crazy. For starters, I talk to my dead Nana."
She held a theatrical pause.
"I talk to my dead squadron members," he said. "You clearly loved your Nana."
"She was a witch! In a coven! When I was three, she and my Mum stole me from my Dad and took me to Ireland." Fiona gave him a pointed look. "I spent my childhood, basically, in a cult!"
"Explains your accent," he deadpanned.
"Did you miss the coven part?" she asked shriekily. "They made brews, and danced naked in the woods! I was told if I ever cut my hair my magic would be gone - and I never did! I was raised by a group of insane women with narcissistic personality disorder!"
"Let me guess, Nate uses the term," he said, and his lips twisted in an acidic smirk.
"They thought they were witches! That they had magic, and they brainwashed me into it!" she added. "My Da took me away from them when I was ten, after my Mum got locked up in a mental institution. And if I'm not careful, I'll end up just like her!"
YOU ARE READING
Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)
RomanceFiona King has lived a sheltered life. Her father and her husband have been making all possible choices for her, always telling her she was too odd and too clueless for the real life. When she's offered a contract to illustrate children's books, wil...