Page 9 of Worth of Waste

Just knowing she would see Dino was enough to make her stay there.

Tiny, smudged finger and palm prints on the edge of the glass caught her attention, and she could tell immediately that by the size of the prints, they were owned by someone small. A child, probably. It looked as though they had put their whole little hands against the glass, almost as if they thought if they could push hard enough on the window, if they got a little bit closer, then they would be able to crawl right through it.

For a split second, caught by the sight of those smudged prints, Karen was … heartbroken.

Would that be her child someday?

Would it be her baby learning who its father was and finding love on the other side of a Plexiglas window?

Would it be her son or daughter’s fingerprints breaking someone else’s heart at the heavy realization of what sitting in that spot meant for their future?

Karen blinked away the sudden prickling sensation in her eyes, willing the wetness gathering to go away. She couldn’t afford a breakdown. Not now, not here. When she was alone, when there weren’t guards just down the way and cameras trained on her every move, then maybe she could take a moment to let her situation sink in and deal with how all of this made her feel, and what it would mean.

She had only glanced over her shoulder to check the time on the clock behind her for a second before a knock on the glass made her spin back around in her seat.

A guard was standing on the other side of the glass, his hand still lifted with his knuckles coming forward to hit the window again if he needed.

Karen wasn’t paying attention to him at all.

No, she was too busy staring at the man behind him.

Dino met Karen’s gaze as the guard said something she couldn’t hear, and then turned to leave without another word. The man she had thought about for weeks on end, the man she worried and fretted over, the man she had been so angry with and hurt by his actions, only stared at her, never moving or even attempting to sit and grab the phone at the wall.

No, he just fucking stared at her. Karen sucked in a hard breath, a deep pain settling in the middle of her chest. She hadn’t thought about how hard it would be to see him locked up, locked down, and out of her reach.

The gray uniform and cuffs around his wrists only added to that difficult, painful emptiness growing in her soul.

Those words she had wanted to ask, all the things she wanted to say, suddenly stuck on her tongue like cement.

They wouldn’t come.

The words wouldn’t form.

Even when Karen reached for the phone, putting it to her ear and looking to Dino expectantly, he didn’t move. He didn’t sit or reach for his own phone, but rather, kept staring at her as though he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.

“Talk to me?” Karen asked, hoping he understood what she was saying without needing to hear it.

Then, all at once, it was like Dino had woken up from his daze. He still didn’t pick up the phone, but he shook his head quickly and mouthed, “You shouldn’t be here, Karen.”

All over again, her heart broke.

“But—”

She was going to tell him she missed him—loved him.

She wanted to tell him about the baby, how far along the pregnancy was, and when she was due.

She needed to ask what in the hell she was supposed to do?

Dino didn’t give her a chance to ask or say anything. “Go home.”

Karen blinked, sitting a little straighter in her chair. “What?”

He pointed at her, then behind her. “Go home and don’t come back here.”

She didn’t move, because something inside wouldn’t let her go. His rejection stung like acid on her skin, but the coldness reflecting in his brown gaze was something far worse, as far as she was concerned. She had broken through that coldness once, a long time ago. She had been able to see the small bit of light that colored the edges of his blackened soul.

There was so much more to Dino DeLuca than what he showed.