“Yes please. Caffeinate me up.” I sit on a stool and watch him fill a clean mug. “No reason for me to drink that decaf junk any longer, huh?” The swell of emotion takes me by surprise, and I swat away a tear that dribbles down my cheek, hoping he doesn’t see. I’m not quick enough. The concern on his face makes me feel guilty for putting all of this on him.
He places the mug on the counter in front of me and rests his lips on the top of my head. “I’m sorry I can’t seem to stop crying,” I say with a sniff.
“You went through something horrific, Mel. You’re entitled to cry as much or as little as you want.”
I grab hold of his T-shirt and press my face against his chest, inhaling his comforting masculine scent. “Why us? Why couldn’t I have kept this one?”
“I don’t fucking know, corazón.” He sighs. “I wish I did.”
I look up at him, and the sorrow etched into his face makes my heart break all over again. “I know it was early, but I imagined what they’d be like, you know? Would they be super smart like you, or into animals and nature like me?”
He nods, his eyes glistening with tears. “I imagined too.”
“You did?”
He brushes my hair back from my face. “Yeah. Whether I’d be going to dance recitals and little league games, or science fairs and debate competitions. Or all of the above.”
My chest throbs with a dull ache. “I’m sorry we won’t get to do any of those things together. You would have been the best dad.”
A tear leaks from the corner of his eye, and it damn near breaks me in half. He rests his chin on the crown of my head. “I’m sorry too, Mel.”
I glance at the clock on the high-tech oven, the one that hates me. “Don’t you need to get to the office? You told me you’ve been working Saturdays.”
“Not today. I’m going to do a little work from home.”
Nathan never works from home. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I’ll be fine.”
“I know.”
I take a deep breath. “In fact, I should probably get back home and leave you to your space. You know, in case your friend from the other night wants to visit again.”
His eyes darken and his jaw clenches. “She’s an old friend, Mel. I swear to you there is nothing at all between us. We were two friends going to a law society event together. I am not that guy.”
In my heart, I know that’s true, but it doesn’t change the fact that I should leave. “I should go anyway.”
A sigh rolls out of him, and he pulls back, gripping my chin and angling my head so I’m looking into his eyes. “Do you want to be alone right now?”
I don’t, but I also don’t want to be a burden to him. I say nothing.
“Tell me the truth,” he pleads. “Because I sure as fuck don’t want to be alone. But if that’s what you really want, I’ll take you back to Tyler’s and I’ll go stay with Mason or Elijah.”
His admission knocks the wind out of me. I was sure he’d want to get as far away from me as possible, given everything that’s happened between us. “I’d prefer to stay here with you.”
“Good. It’s settled then. When does Tyler get back?”
“Two weeks.”
He wraps his arms around me and murmurs, “Two weeks then.”
“Yeah, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
Chapter
Sixty
NATHAN
Two weeks. I have only two weeks to figure out whatever the fuck this thing is between Mel and me and what the hell I’m going to do about it. Because although her reason for being here is devastating, her presence in my life makes everything make more sense. I slept better yesterday morning holding her while she cried than I have in the past two months.
She puttered around my penthouse today, watching TV, reading magazines, and cooking us lunch while I caught up with important emails on my laptop. She’s been in my orbit all day, and I’ve liked having her close by, but she left the den over ten minutes ago and hasn’t come back yet.
I close my laptop and head into the hallway to look for her. When I get to her room, the door is open, and the sound of the shower running comes from the bathroom. The bathroom door is open, and I edge into the room and call her name.
There’s no reply.
She showered a couple of hours ago, so her being in there again so soon feels off. I ball my hands into fists and wrestle with my conscience. If she’s simply taking a shower and I walk in there, I’ll be invading her privacy. Even if she is still my wife and I’ve seen, touched, and tasted every inch of her delicious skin. But if she’s upset, or something happened … I’d rather ask forgiveness than risk her being upset and alone.
I walk into the bathroom and see her curled into a ball on the floor of the shower, her forehead resting on her knees as the hot water runs over her. A faint trickle of blood snakes its way from between her thighs and down the shower drain.
Anger at the universe, rage that she’s having to go through this, swells in my chest. I swallow it down and step inside the cubicle, crouching down.
“Hey corazón.”
She blinks up at me. “I-I—” A heaving sob wracks her body.
I sit on the floor beside her and pull her onto my lap, and the hot water runs over us both, soaking through my clothes.
“I st-started b-bleeding ag-gain. I thought the w-worst of it w-was done b-but—” She sobs.
