My hair’s in a messy bun that was thrown up early this morning.
My shirt is sporting the remains of Wren’s food from earlier—pumpkin I believe.
I bite the inside of my cheek as he gets closer to me. When he stops, I take a deep breath to prepare for what he’s going to say. And why on earth does he have to smell so damn good?
I smell like pumpkin.
Pumpkin.
He smells like he just stepped out of a high-end men’s store.
Fucking luxury.
Asshole.
“Didn’t expect to see you.” Words manage to leave my mouth, and he lifts his sunglasses from his face so I can see his dark eyes—the exact same dark eyes my daughter has—and he looks from me to her. She curls into my arm as he stares at her, and I watch as Keir offers her a small smile.
“Can I come in?” He nods to the house.
I’m so shocked with how polite his words are, that he repeats himself as I gape at him without responding. “Sailor, can I come in?”
“Um… sure.” I step inside and hold the door open. Keir follows me in, and his eyes assess the place again. “Why are you here?” I ask, glancing back out the door, not seeing any sign of Joey. I shut the door with a bit of hesitation and remain frozen in front of it.
“Is there not somewhere we can sit?”
Yeah, the couch is full of toys as well as the floor. He eyes the mess, then looks back to me. I walk to the kitchen where the four-seater table is located and nod. He pulls a seat out and sits. Why does his presence take up so much space in this room? It’s not his place, so it shouldn’t feel like he has complete control. Yet, as always, it does.
“Why are you here?” I repeat. Wren stays where she is, face stuck in my shoulder but watching him. She’s interested, and I don’t blame her. I watch as his eyes flick to her, then back to me.
“It’s time.”
“Time for what?” I ask, confused.
“Time for you to come home.” His words shock me so much my head pulls back.
What on earth is he talking about? Then it clicks. My free hand clenches and he notices. He sits back, ready for what I’m going to say.
“I am home. Now, if you would kindly fuck off, that would be appreciated.” I point to the door, and he makes no move to leave. Instead, his hand lifts to the table and he starts tapping his fingers, one at a time over and over again.
“She looks like you,” he says, and I say nothing in return, because to me she looks exactly like him. “But she has my eyes.” And his hair, but he doesn’t comment on that. “Sailor…” when he says my name, his fingers stop tapping, “… I can provide you a better life. One where you won’t have to work.”
“And what does that entail for me?” I ask, leaning in close. “To be what? Your whore! While you marry someone else?”
“You would never be my whore.” I notice how he doesn’t correct me on marrying someone else and that shit hurts more than anything. It shouldn’t after all this time, after wanting nothing more than to move on, but it damn well does.
“You still plan on marrying her?” I ask. “Even after…” My voice breaks just a little bit.
“Come home. Bring my daughter and come home.”
“And what if I don’t?” I oppose.
“You know what happens to people who challenge me. I always have my way, Sailor.” He stands, strides over to me, and looks down at Wren in my arms. “Can I hold her?” Wren lifts her head from my shoulder and looks at him. Usually with strangers she avoids all contact, but she moves and reaches out for him as he offers her his hands. A small part of me breaks when she goes into his arms so willingly. I have to remind myself he is her father, and she is my gift. And that no matter what, I would do anything and everything to make her happy in this life.
“I want my old apartment back. I don’t want to live with you. And you aren’t welcome to come over whenever you want. We will set visitations like normal people do.” The words leave me in a rush as I watch my daughter look up to the man who rocked my life and my world, in the worst and best possible ways. How can I hate someone so much but appreciate everything about them at the same time? It’s because of her, I know it is. Wren.
“You’re negotiating?”
“I will stay exactly where I am otherwise.”
“No, you won’t,” he bites out through gritted teeth. “I gave you time. Now is not the time to argue.”