by KD Robichaux
I swallow thickly. That might be all well and good, but the thought of being in this house or anywhere without another adult fills my gut with anxiety. I’ve never lived on my own before. The little bit of time that passed between the night Mike told me about his affair and then me calling Mia was it. “Are you sure? I mean, you came here because—”
“Because I love you and my nieces,” she cuts me off. “I don’t regret moving here.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, trying to come to terms with the idea of living on my own. Sure, I’ll have my girls, but what about the nights they’re not here, when they’re at their dad’s house?
“When Mom and Chaz get here, maybe they can keep an eye on the girls one day, and you and I can go check them out,” Mia suggests.
“I’d appreciate that,” I agree, a little relieved I at least won’t have to go searching for a new place to live without a second opinion. What if I choose wrong? What if I accidently choose a bad neighborhood? I’ve never had to look for a home before. Mike and I had this one built while we were engaged. “Are you heading out now?” I ask her when she stands.
“Yeah, Talon said he’d be home at four,” she replies, and I look at the clock then return my gaze to hers, raising a brow after seeing it’s still thirty minutes before he will even be home. “Don’t even start.”
“I didn’t say anything.” I smirk at the fact that she’s so anxious to go see a guy. He must really be special to be getting through to my sister, the queen of keeping her heart distanced from the opposite sex. “Are you staying the night with him again tonight?”
“No, I’ll be home.”
“Don’t feel like you have to come home. I planned on taking the girls to school in the morning tomorrow.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She rolls her eyes. “What are you going to do until the girls get home?”
“Laundry, and I might order Thai for dinner. Besides that, I’m going to catch up on schoolwork so I won’t feel overwhelmed this week.”
“Fun.”
“So much fun.” I laugh, and she smiles then looks at the clock. She’s adorable in her quiet excitement. “Wow, you’ve really got it bad.”
“I know,” she admits.
“Go see your guy. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I get up and walk with her to the door, and she stops long enough to give her pups some goodbye scratches.
“If you need me, my cell will be on,” Mia says.
“We’ll be fine without you.” I open the door, and as she steps out onto the front porch, a large truck pulls up to park behind my minivan, and I swallow thickly.
What. The. Fuck?
“Who’s that?” she asks, and a prickle of uneasiness climbs up my neck. How am I supposed to explain why my boss is here, at my house, when Mia has no idea I even have feelings for him, much less what happened between us last weekend.
Her wide eyes turn to me when she realizes who it is. “Seems you’re keeping secrets again,” she hisses, and I shake my head, trying to convey I didn’t know he was coming and don’t know what he’s doing here. She must read it in my expression, because her accusing look disappears quickly off her pretty face. She turns back toward Winston and smiles at him as he walks up the sidewalk. “Hey, Winston.”
“Mia.” He dips his chin in her direction then focuses on me. “I’ve been calling you.”
“I know,” I reply. He’s been calling and texting me since the night Mike showed up at work, throwing his fit about the divorce papers. I’ve been trying to focus on my girls and the shit I learned yesterday morning when I told them about me and their dad, that I haven’t felt like checking any of my messages. And since Winston has his son this week and Jared wasn’t needed at home, Win wasn’t at work during my dinner shifts the last couple nights, so I didn’t even have to avoid him.
Mia looks between Winston and me, clearly wondering what is going on. It has to be obvious something went down, not only because she’s my sister and can tell whenever I’m keeping something from her, but because his expression makes it unmistakable that he wants to pounce on me. It’s just hard to tell whether if it’s to eat me alive or to shake me. And I realize I’m probably looking at him like I want nothing more than the first option when I see he’s carrying a paper bag from work, which means he came bearing food he knows I can’t resist. Bastard.
“We need to talk,” he states.
“No, we don’t,” I answer automatically.
“We damn well do,” he growls, and my pussy immediately grows wet.
My treacherous fucking body. Damn this man!
“We most certainly do not have anything to talk about.”
Because I’m weak for you. And if I give you a chance to talk to me, I’ll give in to what we both want, even though it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.
“You know that’s a lie, Cece,” he replies, his deliciously sculpted jaw ticking.
“Umm… what’s happening here?” Mia inserts, gesturing between us.
Winston turns his attention to her, while I answer, “Nothing.”
“Your hardheaded sister thinks I’m married, which I am fucking not,” he tells her, and I roll my eyes.
“You’re not?” She frowns, clearly confused, since I already told her he is. And I’m sure Talon did too.
“I’ve been separated from my ex for three years,” he explains, and I shake my head and cross my arms.
“Separated, not divorced, which means you are very much still married!” I cry, knowing damn well I’m only separated too, but at least mine is legally documented and I’m in the process of dissolving my marriage.
“By law only,” he replies, sounding annoyed.
“Yes, Winston, in the eyes of the law, you’re still married, which means you are married!” I toss my hands in the air, wanting to wring his freaking neck.
“Umm… I’m going to head out,” Mia says, and my panicked eyes turn to her.
“What?” I hiss, trying to reach out for her, but she dodges me.
“It’s obvious you two have some stuff to talk about.” She hurries down the steps before I can stop her. “Call if you need me.”
“I hate you!” I yell in a singsong voice.
“You don’t!” she calls over her shoulder, abandoning me.
I turn narrowed eyes on Winston. “What the hell are you doing here, Win?”
His nostrils flare. “As I said, we need to talk. You haven’t spoken to me since you left the other night after Mike showed up. I’ve been worried sick about you.”
Guilt creeps in, overpowering my need to keep away from the intense pull I feel toward this man. He’s done so much for me, not only giving me a job and then paying for my divorce, but he had my back when Mike came at me. It’s not fair to keep him in the dark about everything that’s happened since, when he’s the whole reason I’m able to start moving on with my life in the first place.
I sigh. “Fine. Come in. But I swear to God that better be Italian or I’m kicking you out without another word.” I turn and walk inside the foyer, continuing on to my kitchen and hearing him chuckle and close the door behind him.
“Your favorite five cheese lasagna and fresh garlic bread,” he answers, and I internally swoon.
I sit down on the stool I was on before, scooting my laptop out of the way but not closing it. He sees what’s on the screen when it wakes up, and then he reaches into the paper bag. “Looking for a smaller place?” he asks, since he was there, the one who caught me before I hit the ground, when Mike dropped that little tidbit the other night.
He slides the silver foil bowl toward me after he removes the cardstock lid, and the scent of the lasagna wafts up, making me moan. This is my absolute favorite thing he makes, and it’s not even on the menu. Which means he made it specially for me.
He’s playing dirty.
I hop up and circle the island to grab two forks when I see he’s brought his own dinner too, then go back to my stool as he takes the one beside it. �
�Yeah, but not having much luck. I don’t understand why rent is just as expensive if not more than actually paying a mortgage.”
“Well, a lot of people rent out their property to pay for the mortgage of the house,” he explains, which makes sense. “And if it’s an apartment, you’re not just paying for your apartment itself, but all the amenities it might come with. Like, you don’t do any landscaping, and there might be pools, or a gym on site, or maybe a community center that has a small movie theater and space to throw birthday parties, like a club house, ya know?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t know. I’ve never lived in an apartment before,” I reply, and he shrugs.
“Well, that’s how it is. Especially around here. They’re all super nice and gated, well maintained. Anything less, it might get a little sketchy. If you find a place you find promising that you believe you can afford, let me know and I’ll make sure it’s suitable. I have friends not only in the construction business, so they know property values and safe areas, but I also have an acquaintance who’s a cop. I believe there’s even a PI in their family,” he tells me, taking a bite of his lasagna.
I nod, swallowing my food. “I’d appreciate that.” I lift a brow. “Construction company. Is it Talon you’re talking about?”
He finishes chewing his bread then licks the garlic butter from his full upper lip, and I feel myself clench.
Jesus H., girl. Calm the hell down!
“I know Talon, but I’m closer with his uncle Asher. He and his brothers built my house. I believe Talon and his brother Bax have started their own thing,” he explains, and it grows awkwardly quiet as we continue to eat, neither of us knowing where to start with the rest of what needs to be said. Finally, he asks quietly, “If you’re looking for a new place, does that mean you’ve talked to your kids about moving?”
I put my fork down and grab a napkin to wipe my mouth, then twist it in my lap. I let out a sigh, looking down into my half-eaten lunch. “I did. Yesterday morning, Mia and I sat them down and finally explained everything that was going on. I had wanted to break it to them gently, when that was totally stupid, since Mike already introduced them to his new girlfriend.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not stupid for trying to be a good mom and be careful with your girls’ feelings. Especially you. I’m sure you’re trying to be extra careful to make sure you don’t do what your mom did with you, since you said that was pretty traumatizing the way she vented to you when you were so young.”
I turn wide eyes on him, shocked he would understand that without me having to spell it out. “Exactly. And in an ironic turn of events, it’s Mike who’s the one telling the girls we’re getting divorced. He’s even pressuring them, talking to them behind my back and asking them who they’d rather live with. All because of the amount of money I asked for in the divorce.”
His face morphs with anger, and his fork clatters on the countertop. “Are you serious?” he growls. When I nod, his jaw looks like it might shatter he clenches it so hard. “That motherfucker. Are the girls all right? I take it they were the ones who informed you of this.”
I nod again, swallowing down the emotions that Winston conjures just by asking how my kids are, just by caring so deeply. “When we told them yesterday, they hardly reacted. We thought they’d know it was coming, since he’d already introduced them to Tammy, but we were prepared to comfort them after we told them the news that we were going to need to move. Little did we know, they already knew about that too. Ruby said Mike asked them during their nighttime call the night he was served, who they would rather live with, him or me. They were put on the spot and said they didn’t know what to say. They love their dad and didn’t want to hurt his feelings by flat out saying no, they didn’t want to live with him instead of me, so they all avoided answering at all. But like… what the hell was he thinking? They’re only nine and six. How do you put that kind of pressure on kids their age? Especially when they’re already going through such drastic changes in their life to begin with.”
Tears have sprung to my eyes thinking about poor Lola’s face when she was sitting on this very stool yesterday morning while we were all talking over breakfast. She’d been pale with anxiety and barely touched her food.
“And that’s not even the worst of it. He straight up told them we’re selling the house and that when I move out, the four of them will go pick out a new house together if they choose to live with him. He’s literally bribing them with a new house to choose him, just so he doesn’t have to pay me child support or alimony. How can I compete with that?”
Suddenly, I’m facing Winston, his big hands framing my jaw and forcing me to look up at him, his expression fierce. “There is no competition, Cece. It’s obvious just by the girls not giving him a straight answer that they don’t want to live with him full time, and the courts are going to look at his history since he moved out, and the fact that you’ve been a stay-at-home mom raising those girls their entire lives, and there’s no way in hell they’re going to grant him full custody. No way.”
I swallow, blinking back my tears, and nod as much as his hands allow. “I think my sister might’ve talked to him when he picked them up yesterday. He sent me a text that was actually… reassuring, I guess you could say. Thoughtful, as if he wanted to ease my worry a little bit. He told me the girls won’t be alone with Tammy and that if it wasn’t serious between the two of them, he wouldn’t have her around our kids.”
“Well at least there’s that,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb gently over my cheek, and I make myself pull away to face my food again. I can’t allow myself to be swayed by his physical touch I so desperately crave.
“So anyway. That’s what I’ve been dealing with for the past few days, and now I’m hunting for a new place and not having any luck so far. But I have schoolwork I need to complete before the girls get home, and I think it would be a very bad idea for Mike to drop them off while you’re still here. So not to be rude, but I think this needs to be the end of our visit. Thank you for dinner, Win. I really appreciate it,” I tell him, spilling all my thoughts out at once so I don’t clam up or beg him to stay. A tiny, reckless part of me wants him to hide his truck down the street and sneak in through my bedroom window like a lovesick teenager. But with my luck, someone would see him, and there I’d be caught with a married man in my room.
Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with me, and he leaves soon after with a soft goodbye and longing in his eyes that I know reflects in my own.
19
Winston
Me: I’ve come up with a solution to our situation.
I send the text to Cece, even though it’s close to midnight. She might be asleep, but either way, I need to talk to her, even if she doesn’t get my message until the morning.
My screen lights up with her response, and my heart gives a mighty throb.
Cece: You found a loophole in your prenup after all?
I frown at that.
Me: No. I mean a solution to treating you like any other employee in front of everyone, but still showing you how serious I am about us.
Cece: There is no us, Win. There can’t be an us. Not until you’re at least legally separated. And that can’t happen for another three years.
I know she’s right. My mind knows she’s absolutely correct. But my heart, my soul, won’t allow me to stop pining over her like a lovesick puppy. I’d give anything to be with her, including everything I have. But Cece has made it clear it would devastate her if I gave it all up so we could be together.
Another text comes in before I can respond.
Cece: I know it may seem like I’m being… I don’t know, playing hard to get? Stubborn? Even prudish for being a stickler for this. But you have to understand, Win. Every man who has ever been important in my life has been a cheating bastard. I don’t want… I CAN’T look at you like that. I don’t want to put you in the same category as them, and that’s what you’d be if I let anything happen between us when you aren’t even
legally separated from your wife.
I grip my phone tightly, forcing myself to calm before I snap it. Goddamn this fucking prenup!
Me: Three years, Cece. I haven’t been with her, lived with her, anything with her in three. Fucking. Years. The only thing that’s linking us is a stupid piece of paper.
Cece: A stupid piece of paper that would cost you everything you’ve built in the last decade. A stupid piece of paper that could cost you your son. I can promise you I’m not worth all that.
I growl at that, my nostrils flaring in rage. I cannot fucking stand it when she says self-deprecating shit like that, because I know that’s what she truly believes in her heart, when she’s worth all that and an infinite amount more.
But I didn’t text her to start an argument. I texted her to try to smooth some of the awkwardness between us. To try to make her feel better.
Me: Can I at least tell you the solution I came up with? We might not be able to be together as a couple, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.
Cece: Friends?
That text came with a confused face emoji.
Me: Yes, friends. There’s nothing in the prenup that says I can’t have female friends. And my best friend just happens to be one of my other female employees. So it wouldn’t be weird if you and I were known to be… friendly.
Cece: Your best friend who is your female employee is a LESBIAN. That’s different.
Me: It’s not different. Look. I need you in my life. I may not be able to have you the way I want, but I’ll take you any way I can get… more than just as my employee. If that means we can only be friends, then that’s what I’ll settle for. Can you at least give me that? Can you please just give me that, and stop avoiding me at the restaurant?
When she hasn’t responded in a couple minutes, I sigh and force myself to be vulnerable, knowing that’s how she probably feels.