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"I thought things were improving between the two of you," Gio says slowly.
When I glance at her, she shrugs. "Abby told Solene, who told me. We’re all concerned about the two of you. I know it seems like we’re all up in your business, but—"
"I like it." I smile a little. "I miss having siblings, and after my mother fell ill, I felt ungrounded, so it’s nice to know there are people who care about me."
Gio’s expression softens. "See, I would be pissed if I were in your shoes. I prefer to face things on my own. But that’s that darned independent nature of mine, which has gotten me into more trouble than I care to admit. Not that I’m going to change or anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are a sweetheart, and he doesn’t deserve you."
"Hear, hear." Mira reaches for one of the remaining wedges of chocolate and raises it. "You’re not a complete bitch, Gio."
Gio laughs. "You’re not too bad, either."
"High praise coming from you." Mira grins, then turns to me. "So, you going to give him a chance to explain himself?"
66
Knight
"If only she’d give me a chance." I rub behind Tiny’s ear, and he yawns, then clambers onto the sofa next to me. The mutt’s the size of a pony, but he clearly thinks he’s a poodle. He prefers to curl up on the settee in the living room and thrust his nose into my lap.
The first time, he took me by surprise. I admit, I’d been worried the sectional wouldn’t bear his weight, but it held up. Also, when I tried to push him off, he sulked until I relented and allowed him up. And so most evenings, after my run with Adam—we’ve taken to running twice a day, once in the morning and once after work, now—I sprawl out on the sofa and watch gardening shows with Tiny.
Y-e-p, you heard that right. The man who used to hold a gun has found an affinity to holding flower bulbs. In fact, I’ve taken to cultivating them in pots on the balcony of my penthouse. Something about the undemanding routine of working with your hands in the earth, surrounded by greenery and nature, seems to soothe the churning in me. Something only she’d been able to do previously. Thoughts of her are never too far away from my mind. Especially because I know I’ve hurt her again. Why didn’t I have the courage to tell her about Bobbie's daughter? I haven’t seen her yet, and the social worker who’s been assessing me for the adoption hasn’t been impressed by me. I wasn’t surprised, at first, considering I was a single man. But as far as they know, I'm not anymore. Of course, it doesn’t help that they've never met my wife, and I'm also an emotionally wounded man with too many issues. Hell, I’d be the first to say I’m not fit to be a parent.
In a way, that’s why I was relieved when Penny told me she wasn’t pregnant. Not that I wanted the disappointment I glimpsed on her face, but considering I had to figure out the details of how I was going to push through the adoption, it seemed prudent not to rush into being a father of another child.So why didn’t you tell her about it?Bobbie escaping from the hospital and her caregiver that day and walking into my office provided the opportunity to clear the air with Penny, but I didn’t take advantage of it.
Fact is, I was a coward. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I didn’t want her to feel burdened by the promises I made to my friend and teammate. That'smyburden to bear.But isn’t that what marriage is about? Sharing your burdens? Sharing your most intimate secrets? Are you ready to share yours with her? Besides, how long did you think you'd be able to hide a child living in your house from her?
The absurdity of trying to keep this secret from Penny doesn't escape me. I'm an idiot.
I slump back into the cushions, legs kicked out on the sectional. I’ve turned down the volume on the television, so there’s no commentary. The screen shows images of the English countryside in autumn. Greens and browns and golds. The color of her eyes when she’s angry or when she’s experiencing high emotion. Everything reminds me of her. Pink roses of her favorite color, sunflowers of her sunny nature, dahlias of her delicate beauty, the symmetry of her features, and sweet, star-shaped asters of her good-nature. I took advantage of her.
She’s the very opposite of me. She lights up the corners of my existence, and I never once told her how much I appreciate it. Instead, I wanted to bury myself in her, draw from her grace and beauty and kind-hearted nature. I was greedy and selfish. I was drawn to her because I needed her to heal myself. And what did I given her in return? Secrets, disappointments…and orgasms… Which would have been so much more fulfilling if I'd told her I love her. If I’d opened myself up, mind and body and soul, and made love to her.
It’s not too late. You can tell her everything. You can drop the final walls you’ve put up between the two of you. You can trust her. You can—
Tiny begins to bark.
“What’s wrong, boy?”
He barks again, then whines.
“It’s okay boy, there’s no one here but you and me, and—”
His ears perk. He jumps onto the floor and bounds toward the elevator doors. He barks even louder, then prances about in front of the elevator.
I frown and rise to my feet. “What’s up boy?”
I walk toward him and glance at the indicator to find the cage is on its way up. Tiny jumps up and plants his paws on the elevator doors, which are still shut.
“Sit, boy,” I grab his collar and manage to coax him back. He whines, begins to plant his butt on the floor, then changes his mind, and once again, straightens. He barks so loudly, the sound reverberates off the walls. It stabs that part of your ear that only responds this way to barking dogs and screaming children.
“Whoa, quiet down," I yell. "Whoever's coming up will here soon enough and—"
The doors slide open, and he straightens and leaps forward with such enthusiasm, my hold on him loosens. He half skids forward with a joyful bark as she steps into the hallway.
"Hey, boy, did you miss me? Uff—"
Tiny bumps his head against her, and she staggers back.
