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He said nothing, but he also didn’t hang up. Finally he whispered, “Take care of yourself, Addy.” Then the line went dead.
Although it was tempting to do something else to see if I could gain another reaction, I refrained. Barely. Because I needed progress in however small an increment I could get.
Starting the next morning, I began talking to the cameras. Whenever the red light was on, I knew he was watching. “Good morning. You see me eating this horrible stale bagel, right? That’s because you’re not here to make me breakfast and make sure I’m eating healthy. I miss you, Leo.”
When I went into the office, I was sure he was tracking me there too. So of course I wore a flattering dress and spent a little extra time and attention on my hair and makeup. Besides, I needed the boost. When I arrived back at the house, not only was the lightbulb changed, but there were fresh fruits and bagels on the kitchen counter. When I opened the refrigerator, I found grilled meats and veggies in Tupperware.
Leo was still taking care of me, which meant this wasn’t over. Turning to the camera, I smiled. “Thank you.”
After heating up my meal, I sat alone at the counter and sighed. Noting the red light remained on, I said, “Come home. Please.”
This weird stalking with me talking to the cameras went on through the weekend. And on the morning I was due to fly to San Diego, he sent a text, “Safe travels.”
When I arrived in the San Diego office, Dominic was his friendly self. His enthusiasm over my promotion was enough to make me temporarily forget the turmoil in my relationship. At least for a couple days while I stayed busy, interviewed candidates, and came up with lists of ways to make the office better.
But when I arrived back at the house in Vegas, the weight of Leo’s absence hung over me.
At least the bleeding from the miscarriage had stopped, and I was physically feeling better. Walking in, I turned on the lights and sighed at the fresh fruit on the kitchen counter. A peek in the refrigerator confirmed he’d stocked me up with meals for the week. I shut the refrigerator door and stared at the camera, wondering where he was and what he was doing.
Whatever it was, he was staying engaged with his work because Dominic didn’t seem to realize anything was amiss.
“Come home. Please,” I said to the camera. Maybe one of these times he’d listen.
The next five days were the same. Him lurking behind the camera, performing gestures which showed he still cared, but not coming home to me. Finally, on Friday night, I decided to take things into my own hands. Literally. He wanted to watch? Perhaps it was time for a show.
After taking off my clothes in the bedroom, I strutted into the kitchen buck naked. The ding on my phone made me smile.
“Put your clothes on.”
I ignored him, walking over to the sofa and angling myself for an optimum view for the camera. Reaching down, I circled my clit, then dipped my fingers lower and spread the wetness. I’d tease myself, aware I was in fact teasing him. Then, because I wanted to see if he was paying attention, I stopped completely. And waited.
He didn’t disappoint.
The phone rang. “Hello?”
“Don’t stop.” His voice sounded tortured.
“Doesn’t feel the same without you here.”
“You’re still healing.”
“The doctor said I was cleared to have sex.” Brooke had told me I’d be fine after I stopped bleeding.
He was quiet for a long moment. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t move.”
ChapterForty-Seven
LEO
Icursed myself for going to see her. From the hotel room where I’d been staying, I drove to my house like a madman. I couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t leave Addison alone.
Over the last couple of weeks I’d taken on the role of a certified stalker, spending all my time watching her. I’d made a decision to let her go because it was best for her, but I couldn’t seem to actually do it.
I repeatedly relived the night I’d woken to find myself choking her. I was a danger to her. A danger to our future children. She might be willing to forgive me, but I couldn’t forgive myself.
It was a familiar feeling. Neither could I forgive myself for leading the mission that had gotten three of my men killed three years ago. Guilt was the perpetual state in which I was destined to dwell.
The envelope on my passenger seat pulled my gaze despite myself, and I winced. The divorce papers. I’d had them drawn up last week, yet I hadn’t gathered the nerve to give them to her. I kept telling myself Addy was better off without me, but I wasn’t doing what was necessary to free her.
