The Light in my Darkness

Chapter 2

"I don't understand why you won't give me this one thing."

Sharon's voice had taken on a nasal quality that grated on Clint Barton's nerves. Of course, the entire argument was an annoyance he shouldn't be bothered with. They had an agreement for a reason. He clenched his teeth and worked the muscle in his jaw. He was choosing his words carefully, not wanting the conversation to devolve any further. "I'm going to assume you didn't mean to imply that I don't provide you with everything you need."

Her full bottom lip curled out in a pout and she batted her eyelashes at him. "You know I didn't mean that, baby. You take such good care of me."

He arched a brow but didn't bother to respond. The monthly credit card bill made it evident she was more than taken care of. He crossed the room to look out the window, putting her at his back. Not for the first time, he wondered if it was time to end this. Sharon could be difficult at times, but did it outweigh the time and effort he would have to put into finding a new companion? He sighed. God, I sound like a miserable bastard, he thought. Though he tried not to think about it too hard as he was far from happy with his current situation.

Small hands ran over the back of his jacket and across his shoulders. He resisted the urge to shrug off her touch.

"Look, we've been seeing each other for a while now. My father thinks it time the two of you meet, that's all." She'd curbed her tone to sound more reasonable and less whiney, but it was all a game. Everything that came from her mouth was calculated to get what she wanted. It probably should have bothered him more than it did, but he knew what she was when they started this.

He turned to face her. "The only reason he wants to meet me is you've led him to believe that we're more than what we are. You should have told your parents that this was a casual relationship."

Her lips pursed and she huffed as she turned away from him to snatch her drink off the table. "They aren't likely to believe that when I'm living with you."

"We do not live together. You've never even seen my house and I'm barely ever here. I hate this apartment."

Her brow furrowed as if this was news to her, though he'd mentioned it before. "What?"

He shrugged. "It's cold. Impersonal." Everything in the apartment was chrome and shades of gray. Nothing about it remotely said home to him.

"Why didn't you say anything? I thought you'd approve. The designer I hired was one of the best."

"I did say something, but I'm not the one living here, Sharon. If this makes you happy, so be it." He raked a hand through his hair.

Her scowl slid into a sly smile. "See, I knew you cared about my happiness." She sauntered back over to him and slipped her free hand into the front of his jacket. "You want everyone to think you're so cool and unmovable, but you're such a good boyfriend, Clint."

Panic crawled up his spine when she called him her boyfriend. That wouldn't do at all. He grasped her upper arms and moved her back away from him. "That's not what this is and you know it. Quite frankly, I'm getting tired of having to remind you."

"Why are you like this?" Tears welled in her eyes.

Clint didn't even bother to hide his eye roll. The tears were about as real as the rest of her. "I'm the same as I was the day you met me."

She slammed her glass down before crossing her arms over her chest. "That's precisely the problem. By now I thought you would have come around to the idea of us. We're perfect together. Why can't you see that?"

"Don't."

"Don't what? Don't love you? It's too late for that."

Clint pinched the bridge of his nose. He pulled out his phone and began to send a series of texts. Without looking at her, he spoke. "We're done here, Sharon. Tonight signals the end of our agreement. This is over."