"We don't get to choose who we fall for," I murmur.
His look to me is filled with understanding. Real understanding, because Zack knows that more than anyone. "Preach it, man. Fucking preach it."
--
I'm just flipping off the late-night news when Hensley comes walking into the living room. I push up out of my recliner, give her a glance, and then do a double take. She's dressed in one of my old T-shirts that she must have kept after I moved out, and that's all. While the shirt comes down to cover most of everything, it still hits only at the top of her thigh.
I roll my eyes with irritation, because it's inappropriate.
She ignores it and says, "Thank you again for letting me stay the night."
I shrug and turn my back on her, grabbing my empty water bottle from the table. "No biggie. I leave so early tomorrow that it's just easier this way."
Walking into the kitchen, I can hear her following behind me. I do my best to ignore her as I put the bottle into the recycle bin and move to the dishwasher. It's become my habit to unload it every night before I go to bed.
"It was odd that Miss Brannon came by the house today," Hensley says conversationally. She's moved to prop herself up on one of the kitchen stools that sits at the center island.
My shoulders tense but I'm hoping the movement of me transferring glasses to cabinet covers my unease. "Not really. Just being a concerned boss."
She doesn't say anything so I think the subject is closed. However, she makes me uneasy just sitting there watching me, so I hurry up my movements, dumping cutlery into the drawer without separating it.
"How is it having a female general manager?" Hensley asks curiously.
I slam the drawer shut a little harder than normal. "Look, Hensley...you and I don't make small talk. We can talk about the girls if you want, but my career and job are off-limits. Small talk with me is off-limits."
Fuck, that was harsh.
And I didn't mean it to come out that way, but I'm irritated my daughter is lying upstairs with a broken arm. I'm irritated my soon-to-be ex-wife is staying in my house and prancing around in one of my T-shirts, and I'm irritated as shit that the woman I want isn't in my house prancing around in one of my T-shirts.
"Patric dumped me," Hensley whispers, and I go absolutely still.
"Dumped you?"
She nods and looks at me with clear eyes. "Traded me in for a younger model, I guess."
I'm going to hell because part of me wants to ask her how it feels, but the more mature part wins out. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not," she says simply. "You knew this would happen. You knew that train wreck of a relationship was never going to work in the long run. I destroyed our marriage because I was vain and flattered by his attention, and I gave up everything to chase it."
I'm stunned by her words. She sounds hurt, ashamed, and lost. For a brief moment, I have a connection with her, because I know how that feels.
I know how she fucking feels and I hate that it gives us common ground, because it was easier going about my life not having to consider Hensley in any form or fashion past the part of her being a good mother to our kids. But you can't be married to someone and watch her bear your children without having some degree of care left. Despite all the pain and betrayal, I never want to see Hensley hurt.
"I really am sorry," I tell her again. "You don't deserve that."
Hensley pushes up off the stool and walks around the counter to me. Her eyes are serious, her smile sad. I'm frozen in place when she walks right up to me and places a warm hand on my chest. She looks up at me and whispers, "I do deserve it, which makes me seem super pathetic that I'm asking you to perhaps consider trying to work things out between us."
I stumble backward, dislodging her hand and feeling guilty as shit.
Guilty if I in any way led her on to believe I'd want that, and now all of a sudden guilty I'm letting a woman stay in my house who just made a move on me while I have feelings for another woman.
"Hensley," I say with a degree of moderate chastisement. "We're divorced."
"No, we're not," she says calmly. "The decree hasn't been signed. We're still legally married."
"Maybe legally, but not emotionally."
"If you could just learn to forgive me for what I did, we could work through this," she says with urgency. She takes a step closer and I hold my hands up.
"Just don't," I tell her. "This isn't a conversation I want to have right now."
"Then when?" she presses me.
I clasp both hands on top of my head and look up at the ceiling in frustration. I blow out a huff of air, then level my gaze at her. "I don't know that I want to have this conversation ever."
Something flickers in her eyes and she catches me off guard. "Is there someone else you're involved with?"
I lie to her face. I point-blank lie. "No."
"Even if there was someone," she says with challenge, "I'd still push to try to make this work between us."
"Regardless if there is or not, I've moved past this. I've moved past you. You need to realize that."
Tears fill Hensley's eyes, and fuck...I'm not good with tears. Her lip quivers. "Don't you care about me at all? I'm the mother of your children."
My heart clenches in both guilt for what I'm about to say and fear that maybe I shouldn't be saying it. "I do care about you. But only because you're the mother of my children."
A single tear slides over her cheek and more guilt presses onto my shoulders. As the only person who has been solidly there in my daughters' lives for the past eight months, I know without a shadow of a doubt that they both would want their mom and dad back together. Ruby still asks about it all the time, and while Violet doesn't, I know it would make her happy. Their idea of happiness is to have both their mom and dad together and around at all times.
And fuck...should I even be considering this?
I look at Hensley. She's gorgeous. She's good to our girls...when she's got her head on straight. She's only guilty of getting off track, and isn't everyone entitled to a second chance?
Should I give her a second chance?
The answer comes to me immediately. Like a tidal wave of truth pouring over me, putting my conscience at ease.
Hensley and I are done. I don't have any desire to try to make our marriage work. I've truly moved on and I don't believe staying married to someone just to appease the children is the right thing to do. In fact, I think it can set a bad example, because when there's not true love and dedication between two people, children know it. They are sharp and intuitive creatures, and they just know.
"I'm really sorry you're hurting and lost right now, Hensley," I tell her carefully. "But I'm just not interested in giving this a go. It's not the right thing for me or the girls."
Her face falls and her shoulders sag. I steel myself for a meltdown.
Instead she says, "I want to move here to Raleigh to be closer to the girls. I want more visitation."
"If that's what you want, I fully support that," I tell her cautiously. "We can amend the divorce decree."
"Or we could just pull it now and make the changes," she suggests.
"No," I tell her firmly. "We can't. I won't agree to that, but we can talk about arrangements to get you moved down here if you really want that. There are some nice houses in this area you can look at."
"Until I find I house?" she asks hesitantly.
"You can stay in a hotel," I tell her pointedly. "Tonight is an exception."
"Okay," she says placidly, but I can just tell. I know Hensley well enough. She's not giving up on this idea, and it pisses me off. Pisses me off because it's one more stressor for me to deal with, and also because this is only reactionary for her. Right now she's hurt and lonely, and she's trying to reach out to something that will give her comfort and stability.
I'm going to have to tread firmly but sensitively around her.
"Do not involve the girls in this," I warn her. "I'm going to be very pi
ssed if you try to use them."
"I won't," she says quickly, and I hope to God she's telling me the truth. I will go berserk if she thinks she can use the girls to get back together with me, because that would just be setting them up for heartache.
I rub at my temple, as a headache has just started throbbing. It's been a hell of a few days, and the one person I want to be with right this very minute can't be because maybe our paths just aren't supposed to merge.
Chapter 18
Gray