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“What if she’s not the one?” This is my most recent struggle, but deeper than that is the fear that I’ll lose someone else. I know for a fact that if that happens, even Aria won’t be able to keep me from pulling that gun out and using it. I’d be past the point of no return, and she deserves a better father than what would be left if it happens again.

“What if she is and you ruin it by fighting so hard?” Knowing he’s not going to get an answer, Legend stands and walks out of the clubhouse.

I think things would be a lot easier for me if the sex with Ali was casual. I could probably do emotionless interaction without feeling so guilty. It’s knowing that she means more to me than just being the avenue to meet my physical needs that is causing so much pain.

With a groan, I climb from the sofa and head to the community bathroom in the hallway, but even splashing cold water on my face doesn’t make me feel better. After staring at my reflection and it not offering any answers, I pull out my phone to see that my parents didn’t call or text last night. I’d feel like a shitty father if they had and I missed it.

Tiny pieces in my heart tug against one another at knowing Aria did better last night with my parents than the time before. Is it possible for babies to feel the tension? I’ve used it as an excuse before, but maybe there’s more truth to it than I realized. Maybe after spending the night between Ali and me, she felt like things were exactly as she wanted them to be and that made her more relaxed and happier than she had been the time before.

The kitchen is a bustle of activity when I walk in, people sitting and chatting over morning coffee. Boomer is at the stove cooking breakfast, and I know he’s making food for Ali too because there’s no way the man can eat that many eggs in one sitting.

I grab a cup of coffee even though I know I’ll never be able to stomach it. The table that Ali is sitting at is full, Kid’s son Landon sitting right beside her. I don’t notice any of the flirting I had to interrupt last night. If anything, Landon looks pissed and grumpy. Maybe Ali shot him down and he’s a little ticked off about it. Whatever the reason for him not pushing up on her makes me happy. From what I gathered last night, Landon is still in college, and usually that would be good news, but Ali is much closer in age to him. She’s supposed to be in college, and I imagine she’ll return to complete her degree.

Landon Andrews is perfect for her. He doesn’t have a kid or enough emotional baggage to sink a ship.

It makes me realize just how bad we are for each other. She doesn’t need me to complicate her life more than it already is. She’s just getting started in life, having so much to look forward to.

I’ve been so selfish where she’s concerned. Hell, where everyone is concerned. I can’t be the lover she deserves. I can’t be the friend to the other Cerberus members that they deserve.

I feel useless as I sit down at a different table, but when she refuses to look in my direction, all those feelings fade away.

I want to be selfish. I want to reach out to her and tell her that I’ll do better. She makes me want to do better.

As if she can feel my eyes locked on her, she darts her eyes in my direction before immediately pulling them away. I’m hurting her. I would be able to see that right now even if she hadn’t told me in that darkened hallway last night. I don’t want that. If anything, I want to heal this woman. I want her to heal me.

She stands, saying a few quiet words to the people around her before taking her cup of coffee to the sink. She whispers to Boomer, whatever she says making him frown.

As she leaves the room, Boomer’s eyes narrow on me, but then he turns back around to plate the eggs he was cooking.

I stand to follow her, refusing to waste this moment to tell her everything. I need to confess my insecurities.

“I was thinking you could help me on that panhead later,” Apollo says, stopping me before I can get out of the kitchen.

I look up at him, wondering if he’s purposely giving her time to escape, but he seems oblivious to what he’s interrupting.

“I could make that happen,” I tell him, grateful he hasn’t completely given up on me already.

“Give me time for some coffee and a quick bite to eat, and we can head out to the garage.”

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