The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 87

She got into bed, closed her eyes, and was ready to sleep when someone suddenly pulled the blanket back. A chill swept over her.

Opening her eyes, she saw Hassan holding a bottle of arnica salve.

She frowned; she absolutely hated the smell of medicinal ointments.

He stated, "You need to rub this on your arm, or it'll hurt like hell tomorrow."

Natalie's arm was covered in several dark purple bruises from where the Walsh heir had gripped her so violently.

"I'll do it myself." She reached out to take the bottle, but the man's long fingers clamped around her wrist, pulling her hand away. He poured the salve into his own palm, then pressed his large, warm hand directly over her slender arm.

Natalie's brow furrowed. The initial contact was freezing, stinging, and painful, but as he gently massaged the area, the sharp ache began to subside.

His pressure was so perfectly calibrated that she completely forgot to push him away.

By the time she snapped back to reality, he was almost finished.

"Other arm," he demanded, extending a hand. His long, elegant knuckles were damp with the salve, looking inexplicably striking.

Natalie felt a surge of stubbornness. "I can do it myself."

He kept his gaze locked on her, not moving an inch. "With your pathetic lack of strength? Is that going to be enough?"

Unfazed by his provocation, she shot back casually, "It's enough to rub some ointment in."

Hassan knelt halfway down in front of her, his eyes lowered, his expression completely unreadable. "You don't have to be this defensive around me."

"I'm not being defensive. I just want absolutely nothing to do with you, and I definitely don't want you touching me. I don't need you doing these things for me anymore. If I could, I'd divorce you this very second."

She glanced down and saw Hassan's long eyelashes casting shadows over his usually impenetrable eyes. The sharp line of his nose and his tightly pressed lips stood out in stark relief. His mouth finally opened. "How have I ever mistreated you? You threw away your job at Kingswood Arts Center—where everyone treated you like royalty—just to join some random dance troupe. You run around hustling for business, and what happens? You get cornered by some other man and nearly couldn't get away."

"I did tell you. You didn't believe me," she replied flatly.

His voice vibrated with repressed tension. "Then why didn't you say it again? You're always so sarcastic, throwing tantrums and acting reckless—how was I supposed to know if you were telling the truth or just lashing out?"

Natalie scoffed softly, wiping the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. She forced a smile. "It's just because you didn't care. Even if I had died, you would have just blamed me. You'd never admit it was your fault."

Hassan stared at her in silence for a long time before pulling out his phone and texting Julian. "Check the restaurant's security footage from the night of our anniversary."

Natalie met his gaze. "I already tried after I got back. There's nothing on the tapes."

Or rather, the footage had been deliberately deleted.

His voice dropped lower. "Did you see what the people looked like?"