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“Can you put Olive down in her crib, then we can talk?”
Briggs nods and continues to rock Olive gently in his arms. I watch as he walks her to our shared bedroom, then his tall frame disappears inside.
I think I’m going to need another glass of wine for this conversation. While he’s putting Olive to bed, I set the table and unbox the takeout, then take a seat and sip on my wine…slowly, until he joins me in the kitchen sans the sports coat, with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up, showcasing the thick, veiny forearms that would make any woman’s mouth water.
“I figured we could eat while we, uh, discuss everything, if that’s okay with you?”
“I’m fine with whatever. I am actually starving; I haven’t eaten since around lunch.”
Gesturing to the food, I sweep my hand across. “Let’s eat.”
Together, we share a meal, and for the first time in a long time, there’s something heavy hanging in the air. I poke at the stuffed meatballs on my plate, gathering courage, then I look up at Briggs.
His jaw is strong and chiseled, much like his sharp cheekbones that hold the piercing steel eyes that catch my own.
“You can’t just... kiss me like that.” I mumble.
“Like what?”
I open my mouth to speak, then close it because this man… he knows exactly like what. “Like...that.”
The corners of his lips turn up into a grin, a smug one at that. “Like… what Maddison?”
He’s enjoying this entirely too much. My cheeks heat under his gaze, so much that I can feel the flush creeping down my neck.
“Like you did. We shouldn't do this, Briggs. It doesn’t matter what we want, not at the end of the day. What matters is Olive.”
He sets his fork down and uses the linen napkin to wipe his mouth before scooting his chair out and putting his napkin onto his mostly-empty plate. Saying nothing, he closes the distance between us.
"Come here,” he says hoarsely, circling his large hand on my wrist. Maybe it’s the raw desire in his eyes, or the commanding tone that’s hoarse and raspy that causes me to let my fork clatter against the plate and my chair to scrape against the cheap tile as I stand slowly, facing him.
Briggs pulls me toward him gently, until I collide with his hard body, then he slides his hands up my jaw delicately, as if I’ll shatter beneath his touch. It disarms me in ways I wasn’t expecting. I can feel my resolve lessening each second his hands are on me.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
I swallow down the thick lump of emotion that’s unexpectedly formed in my throat.
“I’m showing you. I could stand here all day, until I’m blue in the face, and tell you how I feel. Doesn’t matter, Mads. I have to show you.”
His words cause my stomach to dip and tighten. I know that I should untangle myself from him and take a step back to protect my heart, but my feet seem to be planted in place on their own accord. His touch feels… forbidden, after everything we’ve been through, yet part of me revels in it.
“Tell me a good reason right now that we shouldn’t at least try, Mads, this.” He drags his thumb along the hollow of my cheekbone in a gentle swipe, his eyes locked on mine, our breath mingled as we breathe each other in. “Olive? Is she the reason why? Because if anything, Maddison, our daughter has only strengthened what I feel for you. I want this. I want our family.”
God, his words make my insides melt into a puddle as his words seep into my heart.
“I don’t know if I can, Briggs.”
My voice is a mere whisper, as emotion overtakes me. The overpowering need to not only protect my heart, but to protect his.
Each day that passes, the guilt inside me festers like a sickness, knowing that I am responsible for some of the pain that lives inside of him. I’m the reason the world sees him as a villain, when in truth...he’s just a broken man who’s been hurt by everyone who was supposed to love him.
Those headlines were me.
Those articles were me.
Even though I didn’t know it at the time, I’m the reason he feels like he has to repent for all of the things he’s done while hurting, and it guts me each and every time I think about it.
This, whatever this is between us, is doomed, and it has been since the day I left him at the Brickside with a half-broken heart and more guilt than I had ever known. What I thought would be a weekend fling was so much more, even before I found out about Olive. He’ll see it as me betraying him. How can he forgive me for this if he’s never forgiven his family for betraying him?
