Terms & Truths (New York Billionaires Book 1)

40| Wild

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Wild

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Chapter 40: Wild (Rowan's POV)

"No. We were arguing, weren't we? Let's argue some more," she shrugged, turning to face me and folding her arms across her chest. 

I scoffed softly, "Let's. What would you like to argue about today? Or shall we just argue more about how irresponsible you were last night?" I stepped forward. 

"You are overreacting!" she groaned loudly. "I got home just fine, didn't I?" 

"I found you sleeping in the hallway, Evie. In what world is that fine? In what world is it okay for you to be out alone in some random taxi, drunk to the point where you couldn't hold yourself upright?" 

"If you were just worried, then you have an awful way of showing it," she bit back, narrowing her eyes at me. She brushed past me and strutted towards the glass wall, staring out at the city view. 

I sighed, glaring at her before making my way over and spinning her around to face me. "I was not worried about you—" 

"You said you were." 

"A bit but only because you are my wife, we have people watching us every day that we walk into that office, if someone saw you last night—" 

"Stop beating around the bush, Rowan!" 

"If something happened to you, I—" I cut myself off, catching myself just short of the edge. "It would have been very inconvenient for me," I finished, taking a breath. 

"Is that what it is? Really? Are you sure?" She stepped forward. 

"That is exactly what it is," I argued, backing her into the glass window, hearing her take in a sharp gasp as her back met the cold wall. "What else would it be?" I stared down at her. 

"I don't know, Rowan. You tell me. You weren't worried because it would be an inconvenience to you, you were worried because you cared, why can't you admit that?" 

"Because I don't want to care about you," I shook my head. "All this time, I've never wanted to care about you." 

"But you do?" 

"I did not say that." 

"You thought it," she said softly. When I didn't reply, she simply rolled her eyes. "If you really don't care about me, then just drop it. You've scolded me enough, I understand, I will never get drunk anywhere unless you are around to keep an eye on me. Is that all? Can I leave?" 

"No," I demanded. 

She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides and looking away from me, facing the bookshelves. 

"I don't think you understand what I'm trying to tell you." 

"Because I don't, Rowan. Because you're not actually telling me anything. You're going in circles with this conversation," she mumbled. "If you just hate me, if you just take any excuse you can get to lash out at me, then admit it."