Even Villains Fall in Love by Liana Brooks Read Free Book Online
Authors: Liana Brooks
get you some food?”
“No. I want a shower, and some quiet,
and...space. I just need some space.” She stalked into the bedroom.
The door locked behind her with an ominous click.
He ate dinner with the girls in silence. Tabitha
stayed behind the locked door, coming out in jeans and a tight
T-shirt with a college logo only after he’d sent the girls to get
in pajamas. The T-shirt wasn’t one he recalled seeing in her
wardrobe.
“Here’s your dinner.” He set the plate down in
front of her, leaning in for a kiss.
She turned away, still close enough for him to
feel the heat off her skin, but obviously uninterested.
Evan slid into the seat beside her, resting his
elbows on the table and surreptitiously checking her for bruises.
“Are you wearing a different perfume?” Whatever she had on wasn’t
her usual blend of floral notes.
“Does it matter?” she asked grumpily. She took a
bite of pizza and regarded the slice with disgust. “What is this?
It tastes awful.”
“It’s the pizza we usually get.” Evan picked up
her discarded piece and nibbled. “It tastes fine to me.”
“Why are we eating pizza? I can’t live on junk
food.”
“I burnt the spaghetti,” Evan said. “Pizza was
easier than trying to make a new batch tonight.”
She dropped her fists to her lap with a glare.
“You burnt spaghetti? How? What kind of idiot burns spaghetti
sauce?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Tabitha?”
Name-calling was new. Even before the Morality Machine, she hadn’t
lashed out like that when she was angry.
The look of disgust transferred to him. “Tabitha
what? What excuse are you going to make this time? I’m sure it’s
perfect. Choreographed and rehearsed. Everyone always has excuses,
and you know what that means? More work me. Why are you doing this
to me?” She slammed her chair back, rocking the table as she stood
up. “Every time I turn around there’s another lie. Tell me, was
anything you said true? Ever?”
“I love you.”
Tabitha stood up, tears in her eyes. “No. You
don’t.” She fled into the bedroom, locking the door behind her
again.
Angela peeked around the corner, a stuffed cat
clutched in her arms. “Daddy?”
Pulling his emotions under tight control, Evan
turned to his daughter. “Hmmm?”
“Why is Mommy yelling?”
“She’s just tired,” Evan said with a sigh.
“She’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Are you going to ground her for yelling? You
ground me,” Angela reminded him helpfully.
“Mommy’s a little too big for grounding. I’m
going to...” He looked around. “Do the dishes. Mop the floor.
General cleaning type of things. Are you girls ready for bedtime
stories?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He put the girls to bed, cleaned, and after he
was certain the children were fast asleep, he knocked gently on the
bedroom door.
Tabitha answered it wrapped tight in her
bathrobe, the bright overhead light they rarely used making the
room seem cold and unwelcoming. “What do you want?”
“Can I come in? Can we talk? Please?”
She held the door open. “I don’t see what we
could possibly have to talk about.”
Evan took a deep breath as he stepped into the
bedroom. This was the tricky part. She hadn’t actually accused him
of anything outright, and he didn’t know how much she knew. “I
thought I could explain.” He closed the door gently behind him.
“Explain?” Tabitha snarled. “I put my life on
the line and all the thanks I get is cold pizza and burnt
spaghetti? That’s how you take care of me? Like I’m some stray you
let in from the cold?”
“What? You like pizza. I’ve seen you nibble a
frozen one!” Granted, she’d been seven months pregnant, and it had
probably been the cravings talking, but still.
“I hate pizza,” she said coldly, crossing her
arms.
“Since when?”
“Since now.” She swaggered up to him, arms wide.
“You got a problem with that? You want to fight with me about this?
Maybe tell me what I
“No. I want a shower, and some quiet,
and...space. I just need some space.” She stalked into the bedroom.
The door locked behind her with an ominous click.
He ate dinner with the girls in silence. Tabitha
stayed behind the locked door, coming out in jeans and a tight
T-shirt with a college logo only after he’d sent the girls to get
in pajamas. The T-shirt wasn’t one he recalled seeing in her
wardrobe.
“Here’s your dinner.” He set the plate down in
front of her, leaning in for a kiss.
She turned away, still close enough for him to
feel the heat off her skin, but obviously uninterested.
Evan slid into the seat beside her, resting his
elbows on the table and surreptitiously checking her for bruises.
“Are you wearing a different perfume?” Whatever she had on wasn’t
her usual blend of floral notes.
“Does it matter?” she asked grumpily. She took a
bite of pizza and regarded the slice with disgust. “What is this?
It tastes awful.”
“It’s the pizza we usually get.” Evan picked up
her discarded piece and nibbled. “It tastes fine to me.”
“Why are we eating pizza? I can’t live on junk
food.”
“I burnt the spaghetti,” Evan said. “Pizza was
easier than trying to make a new batch tonight.”
She dropped her fists to her lap with a glare.
“You burnt spaghetti? How? What kind of idiot burns spaghetti
sauce?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Tabitha?”
Name-calling was new. Even before the Morality Machine, she hadn’t
lashed out like that when she was angry.
The look of disgust transferred to him. “Tabitha
what? What excuse are you going to make this time? I’m sure it’s
perfect. Choreographed and rehearsed. Everyone always has excuses,
and you know what that means? More work me. Why are you doing this
to me?” She slammed her chair back, rocking the table as she stood
up. “Every time I turn around there’s another lie. Tell me, was
anything you said true? Ever?”
“I love you.”
Tabitha stood up, tears in her eyes. “No. You
don’t.” She fled into the bedroom, locking the door behind her
again.
Angela peeked around the corner, a stuffed cat
clutched in her arms. “Daddy?”
Pulling his emotions under tight control, Evan
turned to his daughter. “Hmmm?”
“Why is Mommy yelling?”
“She’s just tired,” Evan said with a sigh.
“She’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
“Are you going to ground her for yelling? You
ground me,” Angela reminded him helpfully.
“Mommy’s a little too big for grounding. I’m
going to...” He looked around. “Do the dishes. Mop the floor.
General cleaning type of things. Are you girls ready for bedtime
stories?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He put the girls to bed, cleaned, and after he
was certain the children were fast asleep, he knocked gently on the
bedroom door.
Tabitha answered it wrapped tight in her
bathrobe, the bright overhead light they rarely used making the
room seem cold and unwelcoming. “What do you want?”
“Can I come in? Can we talk? Please?”
She held the door open. “I don’t see what we
could possibly have to talk about.”
Evan took a deep breath as he stepped into the
bedroom. This was the tricky part. She hadn’t actually accused him
of anything outright, and he didn’t know how much she knew. “I
thought I could explain.” He closed the door gently behind him.
“Explain?” Tabitha snarled. “I put my life on
the line and all the thanks I get is cold pizza and burnt
spaghetti? That’s how you take care of me? Like I’m some stray you
let in from the cold?”
“What? You like pizza. I’ve seen you nibble a
frozen one!” Granted, she’d been seven months pregnant, and it had
probably been the cravings talking, but still.
“I hate pizza,” she said coldly, crossing her
arms.
“Since when?”
“Since now.” She swaggered up to him, arms wide.
“You got a problem with that? You want to fight with me about this?
Maybe tell me what I