Jesus.
His hair is slightly damp, falling over his forehead, and he looks . . . amazing. I swallow, adjusting my top, even though it really doesn’t need adjusting. “Ah, hey,” I mumble, trying to look anywhere but at the amazing body facing me. All that bronze, tight skin. All those muscles. All those tattoos.
“Hey,” he murmurs, “Come in.”
I step past him and freeze as I look around. The house hasn’t changed, not a bit, but it still hurts like it did the day I left it. Seeing it again brings it all back. I clench my eyes shut, take a deep steadying breath, and pull myself together. That was then. This is now. I can’t hold on to the past. It won’t do either of us any good.
“Do you want some wine?” he asks as I enter the kitchen.
“Sure.”
He steps past me and lifts the bottle of red off the table. He pours some into a glass and hands it to me before getting himself a beer. We move to the living area and I stare out the massive windows.
“Why are you here, Katia? I know you wouldn’t just come in here without a reason.”
I take a deep breath, a sip of wine, and then turn to him. God damn him for looking so perfect. He doesn’t make this easy.
“We need to talk about this. About us; about Penny.”
He nods shortly, and leans against the wall, accentuating all that he is with that one simple movement.
“I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to do or where to go, but I think for her sake we need to know.”
“I want Penny in my life, Katia, but I’m not going to bring a fight into it. I just want what is best for her.”
My heart aches at his words, purely because he didn’t say he wanted me in his life, and I never thought that would hurt the way it is.
“I want what’s best for her, too,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I want you in her life, Marcus. I just don’t know how we’re going to do that.”
He stares at me, really stares. Then in a low rumble, he says, “I grew up in a fucked up household. My mother, my father, my grandfather, the entire lot of them created the monster that broke your heart. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her to live every day watching her parents fight.”
“And that’s what you think will happen?” I rasp. “That we’ll fight?”
“Katia,” he says, his voice almost sympathetic. “We didn’t just cheat on each other, or make a small mistake. I fuckin’ broke you and you tried to have me killed. I’m not sure that’s something that can be overlooked.”
My chest constricts, and I manage to say, “So what do you propose?”
“I don’t know right now. All I know is I want my daughter in a happy world.”
“Do you love me, Marcus?”
His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. I watch as he gathers himself, then he says, “Love isn’t enough, Katia. You and I both know that.”
“So that’s it? We separate and put Penny on visitation rights?”
My voice comes out bitter, and I can’t help that. I want to scream, to rip my hair out, to beg. I hate that I feel like that. Marcus broke me. I broke him. We’re a train wreck, and sometimes there just aren’t enough parts in the world to put such a mess back together. I don’t know if he can fix me, and I sure as shit don’t know if I can fix him. He’s right; Penny doesn’t deserve to grow up with parents who resent each other.
Only . . . I don’t resent him. I fucking love him and that’s why this hurts so damned much.
“Katia,” he says in a low, scratchy tone.
I turn. I can’t look at him. I can’t face him. If I do he’ll see the tears. The disappointment. The loss. All of it. All of it, a result of what we created for ourselves. I can never take back what was done and neither can he, but it burns. It fucking burns to my very core. It burns because I want it to be okay. I want him in my life. I want him in hers.
And there’s a good chance that’ll never be.
His fingers curl around my shoulder just as a slow, beautiful song fills the room. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself. His fingers run down my arm, stopping at my hand. He grips it and turns me slowly until I’m facing him. I look up into his eyes and my heart feels as if it’s going to take a leap right out of my chest.
“Don’t think that I wouldn’t fix this if I could.”
If I could.
“But I don’t know if something so toxic can be fixed.”
Toxic.
“If I knew what I know now back then, I would have never let any of this happen. This is on me, Katia. I have to live with not having the family I always wanted because of my selfish, fucked-up heart.”
Family he always wanted.
“You’re fuckin’ precious, Katia. I drove you to consider murder. Do you really believe what we have right here is a healthy, beautiful environment for that little girl?”
I don’t want to admit it. I don’t.
I won’t.
“If that’s what you want,” I whisper, dropping my eyes. “Then it’s settled.”
“Look at me.”
I don’t.
“Katia, fuckin’ look at me.”
I lift my eyes and connect my gaze with his. We stare at each other for so long my legs begin to tremble. I want to say something—I just don’t know what it is I want to say. I agree? I don’t agree? I love you? I fucking hate you? A tear rises up and trickles down my cheek, and he catches it with his thumb before gliding it over my cheek to my bottom lip.