|17| - "Last night shouldn't have happened." -

It didn't end there. We had sex twice more before finally falling asleep, and then once more in the middle of the night. It was like we knew that the morning would be a new day, and with the new day came the pressure to address our issues.

Each time had been more intense than the last. It was almost as though we were competing with each other. We became braver, too, exploring more than we'd ever done, before I had to call it quits, drop my guard, and tell him to stop. He didn't comment on it, just kissed my cheek in what was an unusually tender moment compared to the rest of the night.

I woke before Nathan later that morning, parts of me sore that had never been sore before. It was late morning, an hour later in Italy, so I clambered out of bed and reached into my bag for my pill. I was never too obsessive about taking it at exactly the same time every day—as long as it was within the hour—but after last night, I wasn't prepared to take chances.

After washing it down with some water, I tugged open the bedside table drawer to drop the packet inside, and my eyes landed on a packet of a different kind. The words screamed out at me.

SMOKING SERIOUSLY HARMS YOU AND OTHERS AROUND YOU

When I lifted up the box, I saw just two cigarettes remaining. I was no expert on the quantity of cigarettes per packet, but I was sure it was more than four—and I highly doubted Nathan had bought a new packet of cigarettes, just to smoke two and hand the others away.

It brought all the issues back to the forefront of my mind. Maybe the smoking hadn't bothered me, but it was the smoking that had caused Marie's interference to come to light. I'd tried to ignore it last night, tried to pretend everything was normal. But I had to take Jess' advice. I had to get it out in the open.

Dropping the cigarettes back into the drawer and slamming it shut, I left my pill on top of the bedside table and then snuggled beneath the covers. I planned to scroll through my phone until he woke up—no matter how much I wanted to run away.

Louisa had messaged me several hours earlier, asking how I was, and I tapped out a quick reply.

- I slept with him last night. I'm so weak.

At the time, I'd felt strong and sexy. I'd felt on top of the world, like nothing was too much for me. In the light of day, I realised how caught up I'd been.

- Don't stress about it. I used to have the same problem myself.

I couldn't even bring myself to smile. We'd come a long way in the past couple of years, now able to joke about Louisa's dark past with Nathan. I just wasn't in the joking mood.

When I tried to pull the covers tighter over my shoulders, Nathan stirred behind me. He must have realised I was awake because his arm curled over my waist, his fingers spanning my stomach.

"Morning."

"Morning," I whispered back.

Nathan shuffled closer, nestling his face in the crook of my neck, before brushing his lips against my ear.

"Last night was out of this world... The things you did, the things you said... It was unbelievable."

"Last night shouldn't have happened."

He stilled for a few moments, and I held my breath. I hadn't meant for it to come out like that, but it had been said now. I couldn't take it back.

"Which part?"

"All of it."

At that, he retracted his hand from my stomach and shuffled further away, sitting up. I did the same, twisting to face him.

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"No, I don't regret it. I'm just saying it shouldn't have happened."

"Sounds to me like you regret it."

His tone was colder, detached. I didn't blame him. If he was mad at me, then had sex with me, and then was still mad afterwards, I'd be pretty pissed off too.

"Don't twist my words, Nathan," I said. "I would never ever regret being with you like that."

His face softened, but his guard was still up. "Tell me straight out then. Why shouldn't it have happened?"

"Because there are things we need to discuss."

"And that means we can't have sex?"

"Not when there are issues between us."

"We've slept together hundreds of times. We're able to have issues but still enjoy sex."

"Well maybe I'm not so good at detaching those two parts. I can't have sex without feeling anything."

"Now you're twisting my words. Go on, say it. Your favourite line in an argument."

"I'm not saying it, Nathan."

"You're thinking it, though. Nathan can switch off feelings with sex because he's fucked so many girls before."

He threw the covers away from his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With his back to me, scratch marks were visible from his shoulder blades down to the base of his spine. I winced. I'd done that to him. I could remember it, too. Scraping my hands down his back as he relentlessly plunged into me, the way he'd go harder the more pressure I applied.

I considered saying something about it, but he stood up and pulled on a pair of boxers.

"It's not about the other girls, Nathan."

"Really? Because you often say that, and then you throw it back in my face whenever it pleases you."

"I'm more mature now. I don't see casual sex as a bad thing anymore. I'm just saying that we can't sort out these problems if we keep sleeping together."

He spun around to face me, frustration radiating off every inch of his body. "Isobel, you said several times last night that you didn't want to talk. And then you looked at me in a way that you'd never looked at me before so of course I was going to sleep with you. You seemed so certain that you wanted it—"

"I did want it! But you've been getting close to another girl while I've been away. I can't let myself be physically close to you when we're still sorting out emotional issues. It messes with my head. It's too easy to let it happen."

"It messes with my head, too, you know. One second you're furious with me, the next you're begging me to do things that we've never done before. Maybe I was tricked into thinking things were better between us than they are, so I'm sorry for being so naïve."

He pulled on a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, while I sat in bed, trying to keep my temper at bay. I counted to ten. He left the room. I got out of bed and threw on the first clothes that I came across in my suitcase. I counted to ten again, then I marched into in the kitchen, abandoning all attempts at self-control.

"How dare you accuse me of tricking you?"

Nathan was standing at the sink, filling a bottle with tap water. He didn't turn to face me, and he didn't flinch at my outburst.

"You think I'm playing mind games or something?" I continued. "Yes, last night was different, but regardless of what we're going through, I still love you, Nathan. I still want you. And that's what messes with my head."

He rotated in my direction, screwing the lid onto the bottle. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

"This hasn't been easy for me, you know. It's been near enough torture. And last night was a lapse of self-control, not because I didn't want you, but because it's not fair on you. But to accuse me of tricking you, that's below the belt. Some of the things we did last night required me to have a huge amount of trust in you. And I could never have done that if I wasn't completely consumed with every single thing about you, from your body to your mind."

He sighed and rubbed at his head. "Likewise, Isobel. Likewise. Look, I'm going to go for a run because I really don't want to fight. I'm the one who got us in this mess, and I don't want either of us to make matters worse."

I didn't force him to stay. I refused to talk last night, and he didn't want to talk this morning. For this to work, we both needed to be in the right frame of mind. As he headed for the door, he swept up a notepad from the coffee table.

❆

He was gone for hours. I unpacked, took a shower, Skyped Jasmine and did a final bit of Christmas shopping. My mind never truly switched off, though. Nathan had been spending a lot of time working out recently, so maybe he did now take longer runs. However, the timing was off, and I felt like the run was more of an avoidance tactic than a fitness one.

It was gone midday when he returned. I'd been sifting through the cupboards for inspiration on a lunch I could cook, and was startled by the sound of the key in the lock. He staggered through, breathing heavily, t-shirt soaked and chest heaving.

"How was your run?"

He nodded and rested his hands on his hips, head tilted upwards as he closed his eyes to catch his breath.

"Good. I'm going for a shower."

I nodded in return and watched him cross towards the bathroom, dropping the same notebook onto the table from where he'd collected it. It intrigued me, not least because it was a strange object to take out on a run.

As soon as I heard the water running, I took a few steps towards the table, pausing at the last moment to reconsider. A few months ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about looking inside. We had no secrets, and he wasn't exactly trying to hide it from me. Now, though, it seemed intrusive.

From the outside, it looked like a premium quality notebook with a soft navy coating and elastic closure. I'd never seen him use a notebook before, and this looked like one he'd spent money on.

Turning my back on it, I retreated to the kitchen. I wasn't going to pry; I'd ask him about it instead.

Nathan seemed appreciative that I'd made lunch when he emerged from the shower, hair damp and wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt. Despite that, we ate in near silence. Painful silence. Awkward silence.

When he'd finished, he pushed his plate a few inches back and cleared his throat. I knew what that meant. That meant he was building up to saying something. Something prepared. Something he wasn't comfortable saying.

"This isn't an ideal situation," he said, glancing up to meet my eyes. "Even without what's happened, this is our first chance at having a decent amount of time together since you started your year abroad. And now it seems even more crucial that we take the time to sort things out in person."

"I agree."

He sighed. "But, Bella... I don't think it's going to work this way. If we go from not seeing each other for weeks, to spending every moment together, then the extremity of that is not going to help. Last night was a prime example. It's easy to slip back into old routines, but we can't do that. We both know we can't do that, and it's going to make living together difficult."

My heart dropped, anticipating what he was going to say.

"If you're comfortable with it, I'm going to spend some time at Louisa's. We'll meet up every couple of days, somewhere neutral, and we'll spend that time addressing what's going on."

"I don't think it's fair to put Louisa in the middle of this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that you haven't talked to her about us at all?"

"Well, no, of course we spoke about it."

"Then she's already in the middle. I think it's more important that we're not asking her to pick sides."

I couldn't argue with that. "Okay, fine."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, casting his eyes towards the front door, but not really focusing on it.

"It kills me to have to do this, Bella, but I think it'll help in the long run."

"I know. We need to ease back into things. I get that."

"As for my work's Christmas party," he said, the delivery of the words being slow and considered, "it's entirely up to you whether you feel comfortable going. Or whether, you know, you'd rather I didn't go."

Although I appreciated the gesture, I was hardly going to stop him attending his own Christmas party. I thought back to the conversation with Louisa and her suggestion that presenting a united front would be more beneficial than skipping the evening. Did I really want to come face-to-face with Marie and see how beautiful she was in person? Not especially. Did I need to remind these colleagues that Nathan had a serious girlfriend despite not living in the same country? Definitely.

"I'll come," I told him. "I'm not going to avoid awkward situations. I want to make this work just as much as you."

Within an hour, he'd packed a bag and planted a kiss on my forehead before leaving the flat for Louisa's. A wave of loneliness washed over me. I was alone again, without even Jasmine for company now. This may be my own flat, but I'd only ever shared it with Nathan. After weeks of impatiently waiting for my return to England so we could spend every minute of every day together, here I was—back in England, still apart from Nathan.

I hadn't brought up the cigarettes; that was something we'd discuss in the neutral zone during one of the many conversations we needed to have.

Not knowing what possessed me to do it, I found myself back in the bedroom, staring at the drawer. With nothing to distract me, my mind went wild. Were they the same cigarettes from his night out, or had he been smoking more regularly and bought a new packet? Would he become addicted and suffer withdrawal? Were they helping him cope with our issues?

When I tugged open the drawer, I wasn't sure what answers I expected to find through simply examining the packet. What I did find, however, was an empty drawer. The cigarettes were gone. 

❆❆❆

Thank you for reading :) xx