“How about I put Sophie to bed now, so we can spend a little grown-up time, just you and me?” His low, seductive tone made all kinds of fireworks explode inside her body. Her legs wobbled, and her ability to speak totally deserted her. She just nodded, recovering her breath and trying to slow down the wild beating of her heart. He placed one last, soft kiss on her lips and ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling when he took a step back and noticed the flushed face and glazed-over eyes she knew she must have.
“That was a bit… intense. Sorry, for a minute there I forgot there’s a little one in the house who shouldn’t walk in on her dad kissing the life out of her teacher.” He chuckled, and Ellie smiled, even though she felt a little self-conscious for letting herself get carried away, completely ignoring where she was and who she was with.
As if on cue, Sophie burst into the kitchen, followed by Meatball. Ellie moved away from Adam before Sophie could wonder why they were so close.
“Daddy, look! Meatball can play ball.” She tossed the ball, and the eager pup ran after it, nudged it with her muzzle and brought it back to her play buddy.
“Sophie, I told you no playing ball inside the house.” Adam’s stern tone didn’t even register with the little girl, who just picked up the ball and got ready to toss it again.
“But Daddy, Meatball wants to play. Look, she can catch the ball.”
“Sophie—” His warning was cut off by the ball sailing past him, bouncing off a chair and smashing against one of the shelves next to the fridge.
“Nooo!” Adam made a lunge to save a red ceramic mug that had been sitting on the shelf, but he wasn’t fast enough. The mug fell off, crashing to the floor, and Adam followed, falling to his knees and reaching for the broken pieces.
“Uh-oh.” Sophie took a step back, and Ellie could see from the remorseful frown on her face that she knew she was in trouble. She crouched down and put a hand on the little girl’s head, ready to comfort her, but was left with her mouth hanging open when Adam glowered at them.
“How many times have I told you not to play ball inside the house? How many times, Sophie? Why don’t you ever listen to me, for heaven’s sake! Look what you’ve done!”
Sophie flinched at Adam’s raised voice and angry tone and leaned closer to Ellie. Her bottom lip trembled as her face puckered.
“I’m sure Sophie didn’t mean to break that mug. She won’t ever play ball in the house again, will you, sweetie?” Ellie looked at Sophie, who was just about ready to burst into tears. The little girl shook her head. “See? No need to get upset.”
“Don’t you dare downplay it. This isn’t your classroom, you’ve got no authority here,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes in an angry glare. “She’s my daughter, and I’m the one who makes the rules in here. You can’t come here and tell me how to raise her, you got that?”
“I… I didn’t mean to step in. I was just saying that maybe you’ve overreacted. She’s clearly sorry, and it was just a mug, after all.”
“It wasn’t just a mug!” Adam’s voice was nearly a growl, and she had to admit his tone scared her. He held the fragments in his hands as if they were some precious treasure, and when he met her eyes, raw pain stared back at her. Those same dark eyes that only minutes before had been burning with desire, were now clouded with grief. “This was Hannah’s favorite mug. She never drank her coffee from any other mug, ever.” His words were soft and so pained Ellie didn’t know whether he was talking to her or just to himself. “It was Hannah’s mug, and now it’s broken. I’ll never be able to put the pieces back together. It’s ruined…”
“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know.”
He looked up from his hands, and his brows pulled together in an angry frown that made Ellie’s stomach churn. “No, you didn’t. For you this is just a stupid mug, right? But for me, for me it’s… it’s one of the few things I have left of her. It’s all I’ve got left…”
The pain in his words made her heart ache. She wished she could find the right words to set things right, but she had a feeling he’d never want to listen to her. And to think he’d gotten so upset over a mug was… well, painfully eye-opening.
Ellie stood up and took a long, fortifying breath before she dared to speak. “Maybe I should put Sophie to bed while you, uh… pull yourself together?”
“I don’t need to pull myself together, I’m perfectly fine.” His wavering tone said otherwise, though.
“Adam.”
“Don’t, okay? Don’t use that patronizing tone with me. I’m not one of your kids.”
Ellie closed her eyes, counted to three and reopened them after another long inhale. She could understand he was hurting, but hurting her back wouldn’t help him heal.
“I know when you lose someone you love, you want to treasure all the things that belonged to that person. I get that. My mom was exactly the same when my dad died. But at some point, you’ll have to realize they’re just things.” Sophie wrapped her arms around Ellie’s leg, and she stroked her curls. “That mug was just a soulless object, while your daughter… She has feelings, and you’re hurting them. You’re hurting her with your behavior, can’t you see?”
She used the softest tone she could muster, trying to keep her voice steady even as she felt it was ready to crack—she was ready to crack. He glowered at her in response, and it was all she could do not to go over and slap him. He was acting like a selfish jerk now, even though he’d been telling her his daughter would always come first. She wasn’t right now, and he was the very person hurting her. Because of a stupid mug.
“She’s my daughter, not yours! You don’t have kids, so stop pretending you know best just because you have a couple of degrees.”
“Daddy, please don’t be angwy wif Miss Ellie.” Sophie’s voice shook, and Ellie crouched down in front of her, hiding Adam from her.
“Sweetie, why don’t you go look for Meatball? I think she got scared and ran upstairs. Maybe she needs some cuddles.” She pinched her chubby cheeks and smiled, earning a weak smile and a nod in return. Sophie didn’t look at Adam before she ran out of the room and up the wooden stairs, calling out the pup’s name.
When Ellie turned around, Adam was standing against the counter, leaning with his arms on the marble top and staring at the shards. Where had the playful, sexy, and charming man who’d trapped her against the counter minutes before gone?
Even though she didn’t like this angry version of him, she could understand his pain, and she didn’t want to be the wicked witch who’d ask him to forget his wife and get over her. She took a couple of steps closer and rested her hand on his shoulder. He pulled away, and it was like a hard punch to the gut.
“Leave me alone,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I just need to deal with this on my own. I don’t need you to pretend you understand how I’m feeling or why I’m acting like this. I know you can’t understand, nobody can.”
“Adam, I don’t want to butt in, I’m just trying to help you see that—”
“Just go, okay?” He waved her off, without even looking at her. “Go use your degrees and masters on someone else. I don’t need this right now. I don’t need you.”
And that was the knock-out punch, the final dagger into her heart.
“No, of course you don’t. You can cope just fine.” Her words were little more than a whisper, and she didn’t even think he’d heard her. She took a step back, stared at him one long beat, hoping he’d apologize, but when he kept staring at the ceramic fragments on the counter, shaking his head, she spun around and walked to the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned her head to look at him one last time.
“Somehow I doubt your wife would be happy to see you’ve hurt your daughter because of her precious mug. But I didn’t know her, so maybe I’m wrong.”
Yes, she’d earned the death glare he gave her then, but he’d earned her nasty comment, too. She left before he could say anything and, if she wasn’t mistaken, she thought something shattered a
s soon as she closed the door. He’d probably smashed something else, just to release his pent-up anger. Or maybe it was just the sound of her heart being crushed.
* * *
Ethan had been right. She would’ve saved herself so much trouble if she’d listened to him in the first place. But no, she wanted to believe she could be the one to mend Adam’s broken heart, to make him happy again. She’d thought he was the one who’d make her change her mind about falling head over heels for another person.
Adam will never be over his wife.
The truth in Ethan’s words stung her pride, but most of all, it pierced her heart like a thousand tiny daggers.
She’d liked to think she’d stepped into this whole thing with her eyes wide open, that she’d known from the beginning she would never really come first—she knew his daughter would always hold the biggest piece of his heart, and she wouldn’t want it any other way. But in a silly romantic daydream, she’d believed he cared for her, that he really wanted to be with her, and maybe one day even love her. He’d taken her to his family for Thanksgiving, he’d introduced her to all the people who meant the most to him—that had to mean something, right?
Everything had seemed perfect, even too good to be true, until five minutes ago. The words he’d said to her hadn’t hurt her nearly half as much as the raw pain in his eyes had. She’d seen it there; the bereavement was still fresh, as if his wife had just died all over again the moment that mug shattered.
Maybe he’d enjoyed having Ellie around; maybe he’d just taken advantage of her proximity to have a little fun since, after all, he was still a young man. Being a single dad didn’t mean he couldn’t live life the way other men his age did.
Maybe all he’d wanted was for Ellie to help him scratch an itch she was sure he must be feeling. She wasn’t so naive as to think he’d want to be celibate forever just because the love of his life had died. The world was full of people who didn’t want commitment but liked having a little fun between the sheets, with no strings attached and all that. She hadn’t pegged Adam for that kind of man, but he was a man at the end of the day, and someone that handsome wouldn’t have any problems finding some willing woman who’d give him what he needed, without asking for more.
“I’m so stupid.” She closed the door behind her and slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands as the first tears started rolling down. What a great way to end a Saturday night.
Only minutes before, she’d thought she’d end it cuddled on his couch with him, her cheek on his hard chest, his hands rubbing circles on her back, just like they’d enjoyed doing in the last three weeks. And now here she was, crying her eyes out and pondering drowning her sorrows in that pint of chocolate and salted caramel ice cream she had in her freezer, while he was probably in his kitchen, trying to glue together the shards of a relic his wife would never use again.
“You asked for it, you stupid daydreamer.” She sniffled and angrily wiped her cheeks with the palms of her hands. She wanted to slap herself and pull at her hair in desperation, but what good would it do? She could only be grateful she wasn’t in too deep yet, that she could still come out of it with her head held high and her dignity intact. With her heart intact.
Aw, who was she kidding? They’d only been acting like a sort of couple for three weeks, but it had been enough for her to fall in love with him. Ever since the trip to Cape Arago, her feelings for him had evolved, no matter how hard she’d tried to deny it to herself, to Charli, or even to Ethan.
Greg had broken her heart after three years of dating, but she’d survived. She’d gotten back on her feet, concentrated on her studies and forgotten he’d even been a part of her life. Spencer had destroyed her faith in men, but she’d moved on. But now, after only a couple of months of knowing Adam, she was wondering if she could ever pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. She’d never thought a broken heart could hurt so bad. Apparently, it did. And she hated it.
She hated herself for letting him get under her skin, for thinking, even if only for a few short weeks, that he might be the happily-ever-after she’d dreamed of as a child.
Anger rose inside her, bubbling to the surface in a trail of heat. She kicked off her shoes and threw them across the room. They hit the back of her couch, the thud echoing the one her heart had made when Adam asked her to leave.
Bobcat sauntered over to her, most probably annoyed by the noise. She was sure the indolent animal had been dozing on the couch, and she’d woken him up.
He zigzagged between her bent legs, his tail wagging left and right in that lazy way of his. “Shoo. Your bowl’s full and you ain’t gonna get any more food for tonight. Go back to your nap and leave me alone. I don’t want any male around right now, human or otherwise.”
Bobcat let out an annoyed meow, turned his back to her and sauntered back to his cat bed next to the couch. Well, meager comfort she was going to get from her housemate. She should’ve gotten herself a dog instead. Meatball was ultra affectionate and never failed to welcome Ellie with a wagging tail and that lopsided grin with her tongue lolling out, even though Ellie didn’t even live there. Her cat, who was supposed to be grateful that she’d given him a house, food, and family love, had merely acknowledged her return, and just because she’d woken him from his nap. Ungrateful traitor.
She leaned her head against the hard wooden door and let out a loud sigh. Her mind drifted back to Adam, to the way he’d kissed her just minutes before all hell broke loose. Her body warmed up, her lips tingled as if she could still feel his lips, his warm hands on her face, his breath in her ear, on her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut, while tears rolled down her cheeks. She was never going to get over him. He and his daughter had implanted themselves into her heart, just like a pacemaker that would help her heart beat. If she removed it, if she removed them, her heart would stop, she was sure. She was screwed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adam had just finished sweeping up the floor when Sophie walked into the kitchen with her head hanging down, hugging her stuffed bunny.
“I’m sowwy I bweaked Mommy’s mug.”
His heart squeezed painfully, and his throat constricted. He’d been a royal jackass.
His little girl looked up at him with glistening eyes filled with guilt. He’d been the one who’d put that sentiment there, with his stupid outburst.
“It’s okay, baby girl. It was only a mug.” Adam smiled at her and crouched down, opening his arms. “Come here.”
Sophie threw herself at him and held onto his neck, the bunny still clutched in her chubby hand. She whimpered, and his heart squeezed just that little bit more. He’d hurt his little girl, the light of his life, because of a stupid mug nobody even used, a soulless object that had been sitting on the shelf, gathering dust.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you, angel.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head and squeezed her tight. Her soft curls tickled his nose, and he inhaled the sweet scent of her baby shampoo, the one she’d picked over the others at the supermarket because it smelled like candies. “Sometimes even grown-ups do things they’re not proud of, and tonight I did something stupid. I was tired, and I overreacted. I’m sorry I made you cry.”
“I don’t like you when you yell at me, Daddy,” she said in a serious tone. She pulled back and looked at him with a frown that was immediately replaced by a big smile. “But I foggive you.”
Adam chuckled. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” He kissed Sophie’s brow, and she brought her bunny up to his face.
“Buzz foggives you too, but he wants a kiss.”
Things were so simple in her little girl’s world: a hug and a kiss always made everything better. If only it were that easy in the real world, too, he wouldn’t be here, grieving over a broken mug his dead wife used to love drinking her morning coffee from.
He smiled and smacked a loud kiss on the bunny’s furry head. Sophie giggled and snuggled into him. His arms instinctively cradled her, and he wished he could freeze this mome
nt and stay like this forever, so she’d never grow up and he could keep cuddling her. And maybe ask for her forgiveness over and over again. He hated himself right now.
“Can we watch Mommy on TV?”
It had only been a few months since he’d shown her those few videos of Hannah he had on DVD, but Sophie loved them. She’d told everyone her mommy was famous because she was on TV, and Adam’s explanations had been in vain.
“Which one do you want to watch tonight?” he asked, wrapping her more securely in his arms as he stood up. They’d filmed their wedding day, their honeymoon in Maui, and a few moments in Sophie’s life: the day she was born, her first bath, the first time they fed her baby food. If he’d known how short the time he had with his wife would be, he would’ve captured many more moments on tape. Those special, precious moments only the two of them shared were now slowly fading away, leaving only blurred memories of happy days he’d shared with the love of his life.
“The one where Mommy looks like a pwincess.”
Their wedding day. The most painful of them all. They’d been so blissfully happy, and Hannah was so beautiful, with her hair carefully styled, loose curls tumbling from an intricate hairdo, and that long, flowing gown that hugged her chest and waist, creating a cascade of silk and veil around her legs and bottom. That toned butt he’d loved pinching, just to get a girlie giggle out of her—that same giggle that sounded so much like Sophie’s.
Adam wanted his daughter to remember her mother, and these videos were the only proof she’d actually existed, the only memories he could create for her. If he had to endure a night of tossing and turning in his bed, with his heart bleeding and his throat tight, he’d do it. He wanted Sophie to know her mother had been an amazing woman.
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