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He seems at war with himself in a way I haven’t seen since I first arrived. Parker’s silent for a worryingly long stretch, giving me time to think. Did something happen to Penelope? Worry overtakes me while anxiety rushes through me. Finally, he looks at me, but the man I was with just a few hours ago isn’t that same man standing in front of me.
“I’m sorry, Kacee. This isn’t working out,” he says with a stone cold tone, and it’s such a shock I stagger back a step. I can’t comprehend his words quick enough.
“What?” I say in a hushed tone, but I really want to scream.
“This isn’t working out,” he repeats again. I turn toward the kids, and it’s clear they can both hear him. Jackson’s already frowning.
“What do you mean, Daddy?” Evie asks. He turns toward her, face and eyes still red, with a creased brow.
“I mean it’s not working,” he repeats, louder.
My expression crumples, and he turns back to me. I frown at him before leaving his side to go to the kids.
“Go inside,” I tell them in a calming tone, so they don’t worry. “Daddy and I are going to talk about this. Why don’t you find a snack, and I’ll be right in, and we’ll talk about it then?”
Evie hesitates, then takes Jackson by the hand and leads him into the kitchen. I turn back to Parker, crossing my arms.
“Parker,” I say, and he almost winces. “What the hell was that? This isn’t like you, I don’t—”
“This isn’t right. We’re not right,” he interrupts me, pointing between the two of us. “Being together and sneaking around is wrong.”
“We don’t have to sneak around anymore,” I remind him, my voice cracking in desperation. I’m so confused and frightened, and my heart is pounding like it might beat out of my chest at any minute. I have no control over the situation, and it makes me feel hopeless. “We can—”
“There’s nothing we can do,” he says. “I never should’ve started this. The kids—they were doing fine before you. They don’t need a new mother.”
His words are a punch to the gut, and I’m so confused, I don’t even know where to start with my defense. I can’t make sense of what he’s saying. If this was a concern of his, it should’ve been brought up and worked out weeks ago.
“Parker, I’m not trying to replace their mother. You hired me to teach them, and it’s exactly what I’ve been doing. Where is this coming from? Why don’t we talk this through?” I ask, but he shakes his head not having any of what I’m saying. I can still see the lines from my pillow fading on his face from his nap. “Baby…” I reach out, but he pulls back harshly.
“Stop,” he says roughly, his voice almost breaking. “Stop calling me that.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand. “You just fucked me into oblivion hours ago, and now you’re saying it’s over?” I don’t hide my frustration and anger. He deserves it.
He shakes his head, looking away.
“Look at me, Parker.” He doesn’t. “Don’t be a coward,” I snap.
Blinking, he finally makes eye contact with me. “I just came to my senses.”
I raise my hands then allow them to fall lifelessly to my side. It’s clear nothing I say will get through to him. Without knowing what happened, I can’t fix this.
I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, but this is just like my parents—the drifting, the arguing, the silly arguments over nothing. I laugh, but it’s bitter and not funny. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid as to let myself get to this point.
“You came to your senses?” I ask sharply, trying to keep my voice controlled. “What the hell does that mean?”
“This is just …” Parker starts to say, clearly frustrated before he stops himself. He glares at me, and I can’t help but feel he’s more frustrated than angry. But I’m mad now. He can’t just come out here and make declarations like this out of nowhere. “Trust me, I know what’s best for my kids, and it isn’t this. You can’t be here.”
His words are like fire to my body, burning down my throat as he shatters my heart.
“Oh, is that it? I thought they were doing a lot better with me here?” I ask harshly because his words sting. I can’t think of anything better to say. I stare at him, but he refuses to make eye contact and looks down at the grass.
“Is this because of us? Or something else?”
“What?” he asks, glancing at me.
“Why don’t we just stop sleeping together then, and I’ll just focus on caring for the kids?” I suggest. “You shouldn’t punish them for your issues.”
“No,” he cuts me off again. “That doesn’t—you can’t be here. You need to go, it’s just—”
