Chapter 60: Hate

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I spread the peanut butter onto the soft white bread, hardly able to contain the hunger for my PB&J.

I've been shamelessly moping around the penthouse, and after whatever happened between Matteo and I earlier today, I've made sure to steer clear of his office.

I tried to look for Hailey, but she was nowhere in the house, leaving me to my own devices. So here I am, making my third peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the past hour.

I can't seem to stop thinking about Matteo, and what just happened. Dante has been taken by Harry... My evil brother. I know how much he means to Matteo, I can't even imagine what he must be going through. And as much as I try to convince myself that I shouldn't care about him and his problems, I can't help but feel sympathy.

It's eating me alive, knowing that I'm sympathising for such a horrible person, a person who is forcing me to marry them, a person who locked me in a cell for days because I dared to fight back...

How am I feeling something towards Matteo when I thought I was in love with Scott only a week ago? I'm a terrible person.

This has to be Stockholm syndrome, there's no other explanation. I'm officially going off my rockers.

I begin spreading the jam on the other piece of bread.

"Care to make me one too?"

My head flicks up at the all too familiar voice.

Matteo saunters down the hall with his hands in his pockets, and a blank expression on his face. Beneath his eyes are dark circles and his complexion seems to have gone five shades paler. He looks ill, and drained.

"Sure." I mumble, finally ripping my eyes away from him. I don't even know why I said yes, he clearly doesn't want to speak to me by the way he acted out earlier. And I respect that he is going through things in his own way. I'll just make him a sandwich and then leave.

I finish making mine, and drop it onto a plate, sliding it over to him.

"Thank you." He says as he lifts it and takes a bite.

I get out some more bread and begin making mine once again. I swear, if I keep up this eating habit, I won't be able to get out of bed.

Once I'm finished, I grab a glass and open the fridge, grabbing some orange juice. "Would you like anything to drink?" I ask, before I close the fridge door.

"Apple juice please."

Thankfully my head is buried inside of the fridge, and he is unable to see the small smile creep upon my face.

Once I've poured both of our glasses and give him his, I head towards the lounge room, expecting him to leave back to his office, though he does the opposite, and comes to sit beside me.

I think he sees the strange look on my face, as he gives me one of his own. "Am I interrupting anything?" Matteo asks before taking a sip of his apple juice.

"No." I mutter.

It's painfully silent, and there is obvious tension between the two of us. So thick that even a knife wouldn't be able to cut through it. I'm almost halfway through my sandwich when he finally says something.

"I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that." Matteo confesses.

My eyebrows raise at his words. Is he apologising to me?

"It's fine." I say.

I don't dare look up at him, but from the corner of my eye, I can see him shaking his head.

"No, it's not. What happened was no excuse for me to treat you like that." He says. Placing his empty glass on the coffee table, he sighs and rubs his temples. "I owe you an apology, for the way that I treated you the other day. Just before Dante was taken... He told me that you were the one who saved his life."

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