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Baby steps.
* * *
A blisteringly gush of wind whipped around Krista’s legs and blew up her coat as she bit into her bottom lip pensively.
“If you want your husband back, then go to him. Fight for him . . .”
Those were the words that swirled around in her head as her foot landed on the last step of Kendall’s new townhome. The door swung open just as she reached out to press the doorbell. A blast of warm air greeting her along with . . .
“Krista?”
“Hell—oh.” Krista looked from Kendall to the five-foot, eight-inch woman with the cocoa-brown skin and cute spiked haircut, then back at Kendall, this time with questioning eyes.
Kendall drank in the sight of her. She looked different. Thinner. Despite so many months slipping by, he . . . she—
“Persia, Krista—my soon to be ex-wife.”
Ouch. Krista felt the sting of those words and cringed.
“Oh,” Persia said. She and Kendall had been seeing more of each other, more openly, over the last several months. “Hi.”
Krista forced a smile.
Kendall leaned in and kissed Persia on the cheek. “Thanks for stopping by. Talk, soon?”
A surge of jealous anger jolted her. And yet Krista knew she had no right to her feelings. After all, she’d pushed him out. Hadn’t she? And, obviously, straight into another woman’s arms.
Persia smiled, reaching for his hand. “Of course.” And then she flicked a glance at Krista. “Nice meeting you.”
With a raised brow, Krista sent her a cold stare and stepped back, allowing her to walk by. Krista waited for the disgustingly pretty, doe-eyed bitch to flounce her bouncy-ass to her Jaguar and then slide behind the wheel, before bringing her attention back to Kendall.
“I guess I should have called, first?”
Kendall shrugged his left shoulder. “Probably,” he said, as he leaned against the doorframe, blocking the doorway. “What brings you by?”
God, Krista missed him so much. She’d say anything—do anything, just to have him one last time.
Persia blew her horn, and Kendall smiled. And Krista sa
w something strangely unfamiliar flicker in his eyes, something . . . primitive. Or maybe she was simply imagining it.
Still, she had to know, “Is she one of your ass lickers?”
Kendall resisted the urge to laugh hysterically. But he frowned instead. “Look, Krista. What does that—?”
“I’m sorry,” she quickly said. “I’m not here to fight. Can I come in? Please?”
“For what?”
“Please.” Krista heard the pleading in her voice, and wondered if Kendall had heard it too. “Please,” she said again, now unconcerned about how it sounded.
He sighed, then stepped back, allowing her enough space between them to get through the door, her body mere inches from his as she crossed over the threshold.
She stepped inside the living room, glancing around the place. It was tastefully decorated in a masculine yet modern kind of way. Several candles sat on a tray burned on top of a large rectangular, leather ottoman.
Kendall closed the door. “So what brings you by?”
“I-I-I wanted to see you—you know, before our divorce hearing.”
