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The soft whimper does something to me. It twists me up inside, causing me pain, and gives me no choice but to put an arm around her whether she wants me to or not. Judging by the way she leans against me, tucking her head under my chin, I think she wants me to. It’s a good sign. I have to take whatever good signs I can get.
“I told you last night, and I’ll say it again.” I brush my lips against the top of her head. This precious, beautiful creature trembling in my arms. Trusting me. Needing me. “I’m going to find out who did it. We’re going to get through this.”
“What if you can’t? The cops couldn’t all this time.” Then she scoffs softly. “There could also be dirty cops around. That’s another one of Dad’s theories too.”
Again, I bite my tongue. He’s not wrong. There’s a reason charges don’t stick to me. I cover my tracks. There are more than a handful of cops around town who buy their kids Christmas presents with the money they earn on the side. Money that comes from me.
Nevertheless, I didn’t make the order. I might not be the only game in town. Our so-called friends in the department might be working additional overtime, taking whatever money comes their way regardless of where it’s coming from. It obviously doesn’t explain why an innocent woman died, but some of these guys don’t operate under anything resembling a moral code.
“Anyway, there’s still another problem, and I can’t let it go.” I know what’s coming before she lifts her head, eyeing me warily. “Your wife.”
“My ex-wife,” I groan.
“Your soon-to-be ex-wife.”
“Very soon,” I vow, touching my lips to the tip of her nose. “I’m working my ass off, trying to convince her to sign the papers. Rather, the lawyers are. We aren’t supposed to contact each other, but I have faith in my team. They’ll get it settled.”
I hook a finger under her chin and tilt it so our eyes meet. “You are not the so-called other woman. You are the only woman. She hasn’t been anything to me except a pain in the ass for years.”
When that doesn’t seem to be enough–for the light in her eyes has dimmed–I add, “I understand your feelings about it. I do. The only reason Amanda is still my wife is her refusal to sign the divorce papers. Right now, that’s the best I can offer, although I won’t stop until she signs them. I don’t want to stay married to her or be with her.”
Still, she frowns. “I’m asking a lot from you, aren’t I?”
“You’re worth it. Every bit and more.” I wish I could find the words to make her understand I’d move heaven and earth if she asked me to.
“I’m worth having some freedom once this is all cleared up and we can be together for real? Out in the open?”
My mouth has a bitter taste at the thought, but I fight through it. This is who she needs me to be. “The last thing I want is to clip your wings, little bird. You deserve to fly, and I won’t be the one who stops you.”
The light radiating from her smile makes the sacrifice worth it. I’ll have to keep the memory close to the forefront of my mind, since the idea of letting my little bird fly goes against every instinct I have.
I have her in my arms, happy and as content as she can be, under the circumstances. I suppose her happiness is worth the sacrifice. Having her body close to mine, knowing she wants to be here and wants a future just as much as I do, is as close to contentment as a man like me deserves.
BIANCA
It's incredible the difference it makes when you wake up in a house where you don't have to dread what you'll find when you go downstairs.
I hate thinking that way, especially since it’s the first thing that goes through my head when I open my eyes on Sunday morning. This is the second morning in a row I've woken up in Callum's bed, only this time, he's not waiting with a tray full of food. He warned me he'd be busy with work today, but that's fine. I could use a little time with Tatum, anyway. I've been so wrapped up in my own shit, I haven't been as good a friend to her as I could be.
I allow myself to think of my father briefly. I wonder how he’s doing? Lately, it seems like he's more interested in avoiding me than anything else, and now that I know the truth about his job, I understand why. The less he has to see of me, the easier it is to avoid answering questions. At least he finally stopped blowing up my phone. He did send a message overnight.
