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“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you didn’t mean it.”
“I won’t say it twice.”
I hung up before he could come up with another smart-ass remark. “Time” by Pink Floyd came on the stereo, a reminder I didn’t need. I was running out of it.
Once I got backto my building, I stopped by Muriella’s before going upstairs.
“Muriella,” I called after letting myself in.
“Daniel?” She appeared from the kitchen as I set my briefcase down in the foyer. “Date go bad?”
My lips parted at her sarcasm. I was used to it when it was playful, but this was a jab. “I wasn’t on a date. But had I been, then yes, it went very badly.”
“Hmph.” She turned her back, leaving me on my own in the hallway.
I followed her into the kitchen. “You’re still mad at me?”
“I’m going to be for a while.” She picked up her phone off the counter and fiddled with it as if I wasn’t even there.
“Muriella…” I started, grasping for some sort of explanation that would make her understand.
“Don’t bother. I have no desire to hear a string of lame excuses for why you’re doing this.”
“Good, because I don’t feel like coming up with any,” I snapped. She folded her arms, and I let out a frustrated breath.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said. The woman amazed me. She was mad as all hell at me, yet she could set that aside to take care of me.
“You don’t have to do that.” I softened my tone.
“I’ll be upstairs shortly.” Her way of telling me to get out of her kitchen.
I grabbed my briefcase on my way out, taking the stairs up to the apartment. Dread filled me as I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. I hated coming home to an empty place. No, that wasn’t true. If the apartment had been filled to capacity, it would have felt no different. What I hated was coming home to no Vivian. It was a thousand times more painful than I’d ever anticipated, and I’d known it was going to hurt like a motherfucker. I nearly turned around and went back downstairs. On more than one occasion, I’d almost asked Muriella if I could stay with her. But that would have blown my cover.
I shucked off my suit jacket and tie, then loosened the top few buttons of my shirt before settling into the chair behind my desk. There was work to do, fires to put out, but I could hardly concentrate. It was by a sheer force of will that I made a few calls I’d put off. I was just wrapping one up when the red light on the security system lit up. Dinner was here.
When I lifted my eyes to the doorway, I thought I was hallucinating. I’d pictured this so many times over the last few days, I struggled to know if it was real or an illusion.
“Vivian.” It came out sounding hoarse, desperate. Not at all what I’d intended.
She watched me for a moment from the doorway, and she saw everything. It was in the confident way her eyes assessed, like she could see in my soul how much I fucking missed her. She didn’t bother to hide her feelings either. I knew the woman better than I knew myself. She was coming through the other side of hell, standing straighter than she had earlier in the day, a bit of that spark back in those eyes I loved to get lost in.
She had on the damned ballet shoes, the old jeans and sweatshirt that was just plain torture, revealing one shoulder, no bra strap. I gripped the arms of my chair to keep from charging her and licking that line from her shoulder all the way to her neck. Fuck me, that neck. It needed my mark, to show the world she was taken, to remind it and her who she belonged to.
She showed no hesitation as she moved toward me, came around the desk, and parked her gorgeous ass on the edge of it. I sucked in a breath and held it. She smelled delicious. She smelled like home.
Fighting an urge to bury my nose in her hair and inhale the sweetness, I remained cold, going so far as to glare at her with ahow dare you enter my space without invitationstare. Typical Vivian, she was unmoved and even less intimidated.
“I’m not letting you leave me.”
That was what I’d expected from the outset. A fight. Her steely determination. Pride that she was going to fight for me warred with my need for her to just let things be.
“That’s something the two of us would need to agree on. Which we won’t,” I returned, keeping my voice devoid of any emotion.
“Breaking up should have been that way too. You took it upon yourself to make the decision without me,” she pointed out, and my jaw clenched. I braced myself for the fight she had decided we were going to have.
“It’s for the best.”
She reined in her temper. “I know why you’re doing this.”
