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“When you get back, I’ll be waiting.”
He nodded and I could see his relief smooth out the tension in his face.
At that point, I realized I’d been overlooking the fact he was stressing over the whole weekend as much as I was. I needed to be more supportive and look at the bigger picture.
“And I expect you to call me every night after the kids are asleep,” I added.
He grabbed both of my biceps and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “I will. I promise.”
I blew out a breath, hoping it would take my worries along with it. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoed.
“Just please… don’t get drunk around her,” I half-teased.
With a soft snort, he crossed his fingers and drew an X over his heart. “I promise not to touch a drop.”
Ronan (Now)
I sat in my living room with the lights off and a glass of The Macallan in my hand while I stared out over the city skyline.
I didn’t move when I heard the lock click on my door. Or when it opened. Or when I heard keys, a wallet and whatever else he’d been carrying get dumped onto the counter.
Or when I watched his reflection kick off his shoes and pad in socks over to where I sat.
I was relieved he was home.
My love for him had never been more apparent than the moment I read his text telling me he was on his way home, followed by two more short messages: I love you and I miss you.
I sent the same two texts back.
He settled on the couch next to me with a sigh, kicked his feet up on the marble coffee table, then leaned into me.
I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him even closer.
We sat there quietly for a few minutes simply appreciating each other’s company. His closeness quickly filled the emptiness I’d felt all weekend without him.
“How’d it go?” I already knew most of it but I figured I’d take his emotional “temperature.”
He took the glass from my fingers and took a long sip of the scotch. He released a long sigh when he was done. “Exactly how I figured it would.”
I didn’t like the way he said it. Something must have happened that I wasn’t aware of. “What didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you everything every night I talked to you. But what I’m about to tell you happened after I dropped the kids off at the house before I left.”
Immediately my hackles raised. I was ready to go to war to not only keep Tate, but to protect his relationship with his children.
“She sent the kids to their rooms and hit me with something I hadn’t expected... She wants me to move home.”
She what? She wanted that for herself or for the kids?
“Why did she offer that?” I forced up my tight throat, because the words had to squeeze past my rising trepidation.
“My guess? She’s tired of going at it alone. It’s a lot more difficult than she thought, even with my financial help.”
Well, no shit. She had always wanted an easy life. She expected Tate to be the one to provide it. That was clear when she visited me that day in my dorm room.
He had been paying for everything when they lived together, now he was only paying what the court ordered. She actually had to do for herself for once.
“And what do you want?”
“I want to spend more time with my kids.”
Immediately, my heart became heavy and my chest became tight. “Tate—”
He cut me off, probably saving me from saying something we’d both regret later. “But therapy has taught me an important lesson.”
I studied his profile as he stared at the lowball glass in his hand.
“I don’t want to force a relationship that was never meant to be. I tried that and it didn’t work. If I’m not happy, my kids will pick up on that. I want them to witness a loving, healthy and happy relationship, not what Dahlia and I had. Even though we tried to hide it, I’m sure they could sense it. Even if they didn’t now, they would when they got a little older.”
I lifted the hand I had rested on his shoulder and drew my fingertips along the edge of his hair. “What did you tell her?”
“The truth about us and that I’m never coming home to be with her. I also offered to take the kids more than what the custody agreement says.”
“And?”
Tate shook his head. “She said she’d think about it.”
“Will she tell the kids about us before you’re ready?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Will she poison them against you because of me?” My distrust of her made me think that could be a possibility.
“I hope not.” He didn’t sound confident.
“And if she does?”
He lifted his face to mine and his eyes were as sharp as a hawk. “Then she will have an ugly fight on her hands, but I hope to avoid that if at all possible.”
