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A man’s voice answered. “Come on up, Emilia.”
Fiero frowned, but when the door buzzed him in, he pushed it, taking the stairs with a nauseating feeling in his stomach, as though he was peeling back the layers of time and moving through them.
Everything was the same as it had been then, on that night he’d come to her house knowing it would only be one night for him.
He remembered it more vividly than he could believe, now he was back. The way she’d fumbled her keys and he’d kissed her as she’d finally inserted them in the lock, the way the light had flickered overhead a few times, the bulb dying.
Stifling a groan, he thumped once on the door but it was already being pulled inwards. A man stood on the other side, so Fiero did a double take, checking the number on the front of the door despite the fact he knew this was where she lived.
“Oh.” The man was handsome in a Hollywood film star kind of way, all blond hair, blue eyes, white teeth and a golden tan. “You must be Fiero.” The words were said with obvious cool. “Where’s Emilia?”
Fiero ground his teeth together. “And you are?”
The other man regarded him intently. “Axel. A friend of Ellie’s.”
Ellie’s. The moniker was like a punch in his gut, the friendship and familiarity conveyed in those two syllables more than he could bear.
Shit.
He closed his eyes for a second, reminding himself this was supposed to be about proving to himself how little he cared for Elodie. Ellie. God. “Where’s Jack?”
“He’s here.” Axel opened the door wider but it was with obvious reluctance.
“Daddy!” Jack’s voice was clear and loud. The little boy ran through the flat like a hurricane, pitching himself at Fiero’s legs so he momentarily forgot to feel anything but joy and delight, pleasure in his son’s presence, love for him that was all-encompassing.
How well the little boy had taken to the idea of Fiero being his father. It had been a seamless transition – from Fiero to daddy in the space of a week or so.
“His bag?” Fiero heard the tight rejection in his voice and didn’t care. The blond jerked his head towards the sofa. Fiero moved deeper into the room and wished he hadn’t when proof of the other man’s occupancy were everywhere. A discarded jacket over the back of a chair, his shoes in the corner, a book that looked distinctly un-Elodie open on the coffee table, two empty cups of coffee on the counter and God help him, two glasses of wine in the sink.
Did he need any further proof that this man had spent the night?
He swallowed a curse, hooking the bag over his shoulder. Jack was at Axel’s feet now, and as Fiero watched, the other man crouched down, holding a hand up. Jack high fived it excitedly.
“See you in a few days, little buddy. You got your train?”
“Uh huh.” He lifted it from his pocket. “Here it is. Choo choo.”
“Good. You hold onto it and I might have another one next time I see you.”
“Percy?”
Axel grinned. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Fiero watched as the blond tousled Jack’s hair with a familiarity that was clearly born of regularity. Regular contact, regular affection.
Fury zipped inside him.
“Bye, Ax-man.” Jack hugged Axel and Fiero froze.
He stood locked to the spot, a frown on his face, his eyes sweeping over the scene. Then, he turned to study the flat once more, as an unpleasant suspicion began to form in his mind. Was it possible this man lived here? Had Elodie moved on that completely, already?
And so what if she had? Didn’t she deserve that? A chance to be happy with someone who could return her love? Was he really going to resent her that?
“Let’s go, Jack.” Fiero stalked towards the door, barely able to meet the other man’s eyes.
He held a hand down to Jack, breathing easier when the little boy put his own in Fiero’s.
“Tell Elodie Emilia will bring him back tomorrow some time.”
