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The pain was overwhelming.
What was wrong with me?
* * *
Even Joyce noticed my melancholy the next morning. When she wasn’t playing with Zoe, she was sending me understanding looks. It was sweet and painful all at the same time.
Mercifully, I’d managed to duck Kingston during our usual midday visit the next day. I’d dropped Zoe off just inside the door then all but left skid marks as I raced away.
I wasn’t so fortunate tonight.
After finishing with bedtime, reading a few stories for Zoe and cuddling with her as she fell asleep, I’d just closed her bedroom door when Kingston popped up behind me.
“Briar.”
I jumped. “You scared me!” I whispered harshly.
I’d spent the better part of an hour getting Zoe to calm down and fall asleep. The last thing I wanted was to start it all again because her father made me scream. And not even the fun way.
“Sorry. Can we talk?”
I sighed, since I knew there was no hiding now. It was just putting off the inevitable. “Sure.”
King turned and headed for his bedroom, and I muffled my groan as I followed him. It was painful to stand there and see his bed where he’d made me come so hard I’d cried, or his bathroom where he’d spent so much time eating me out that my knees went weak, and I’d almost cracked my head open when I’d slipped.
My knees felt weak right now. But that was probably just nerves and had nothing to do with the seriously hot man I knew inside and out. The man who knew me inside and out.
The man who was still in love with his dead wife.
Nothing to see here.
My eyes stung as I fought against the tears. There was time enough to cry—again—when I was alone in my room. I could keep it together for a few minutes.
Maybe if I repeated it enough times, I’d believe it myself.
Doubtful.
“Briar?”
I blinked back into the present where King was standing too close to me with a concerned frown. Judging from his tone, it wasn’t the first time he’d said something to me.
“Are you okay? You looked a thousand miles away.” His hand cupped my shoulder as he stepped into my personal space like he had a thousand times before.
Only now it felt like too much.
I stepped back and shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I wasn’t going to just blurt out my feelings for him. I had to keep it together. “Do you still love her?”
Mortified, I closed my eyes with a wince. Because that was so much better than blurting out my feelings. I’d all but telegraphed what I was thinking with that stupid question.
“What? Do I love who?” King sounded so flabbergasted. Like he didn’t understand the question. Like I was crazy to be asking it.
“Ariel. Your wife.” I felt dirty just saying that, like I was the other woman who’d knowingly had the affair with the married guy. Because in a way I had. I’d known their whole fractured history—who didn’t—and I’d still slept with him.
So stupid.
“What? No. Of course I don’t. Where the hell is this coming from?”
“Are you serious? Every single time her name comes up, you shut down. We’ve talked about my screwed-up marriage, but I don’t know a single thing about you and her. Just what I’ve heard from the tabloids likethe Babbler. Because who hasn’t? But I’ve heard very little from you. I think you’ve said her name once in the whole time I’ve been here. The second she’s brought up, you shut down and run away.”
