Gorgeous even.
This woman, who I’d allowed to twist me up and tie me, left me hanging out to dry.
Tears sprang to her eyes and raced down her face. “She’s so big.” Her words hitched.
“It’s been three years. What did you think?” Mine were nothing but spite.
Her head shook, and she looked away, dropping her gaze. “I don’t know. It feels like it’s been forever and like it was only yesterday.”
A huff scraped my throat. “Yesterday? She was barely walking when you left. She starts school next year. You don’t get to come here and pretend like you didn’t miss anything when you missed everything.”
My head shook. Harsh. A jolt to clear the chaos. The disorder that tumbled and shook.
I angled back on her, bitterness bleeding out. “What do you want?” This woman could come in and rip apart our unstable world.
Standing there, wearing all that bullshit innocence written in her features. Holding all the power in the palm of her seedy hand.
“You’re my husband.”
She might as well have punched me in the face. Kicked me in the gut. Her statement blew through me like a grenade. “Don’t fucking call me that.” It dropped out in a low, slow threat.
“It’s the truth.”
Hostility shook my head. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time.”
“I never stopped belonging to you. You didn’t sign the papers, remember? That was your choice. A choice I let go.”
Fuck.
Mother. Fuck.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” I grated.
She took a pleading step forward. “It means everything. I—”
Hopeless, she looked to the house that was supposed to be our home. The one she’d set afire. Burned it straight into the ground, leaving that bullshit note about how it was all my fault before she just fucking took off and left us behind.
Right then, I might as well have been back there. A prisoner to that day. Missy lying dead at my feet and my wife driving away.
Leaving me.
My attention moved across the street, to the impenetrable silence that hovered like stone around Rynna’s house.
Don’t leave me.
A sob erupted in the air, stealing my focus, my purpose. I jerked my head back to Janel, who pressed her hands over her heart. Like she was trying to keep it inside. “You’re with her? With Rynna?”
“How do you know her?” I demanded.
Apparently, last night I’d ripped off the lid to Pandora’s box. Every demon in my past flying out. Guess it only seemed fitting one stood on my front porch. Seeking a way in when I’d been so diligent at keeping everything out.
Rynna.
Fucking Rynna.
Little Thief.
The second she’d stepped into my life, she’d turned everything upside down.
A frown crossed Janel’s brow, hesitation thick, before she quietly spoke, “I didn’t know her well, but I knew her well enough to know she’s Corinne Dayne’s granddaughter. We didn’t run in the same circle, though. It just . . . caught me off guard that she’s here. I’m . . . I know I don’t have any right to be jealous, but I can’t help it. I thought when I came back we . . .” She trailed off, her intentions hanging in the air like a thick shroud of dread.
“Well, you thought wrong. You left us. You can’t come back and expect anything to be waiting for you.”
“You know I couldn’t stay any longer. I was dying inside. You—”
“Then what are you doing here?” My biting words cut her off.
“I . . . I got help. A counselor who helped me see we just needed to work through our troubles. Courage to fight for it. For my family.”
Fight for us?
Mocking laughter rocked from my lungs. “You’re here to fight for us? To win me back?”
“Yes.” She said it so simply. So easily. Like I should just let go of three years of hurt. Like I should just let go of Rynna.
“It’s a little late for that.”
“It’s never too late.” She reached out. Both hands circled around my wrist. “At least I need to see Frankie Leigh. I can’t go on without her, Rex. I have never been the same since I walked away from my child. Never have known a torture like the one I’ve been livin’. Please, I need to try to make it up to her. She needs to know her momma.”
Agony crawled over my body.
A devouring beast.
Fangs sinking all the way to bone.
How long did I pray for that? Beg and plead and cry out to the emptiness of the night? Nothing but a beggar on his knees, willing to give up anything for his daughter’s life to be whole. Fulfilled. For her to never feel an ounce of the betrayal that I’d worn around like a second skin.
And there was her mom. Without my permission, my gaze moved back to the open door. To my kid. I’d always done what was best for her. Problem was, right then I had no clue what that was. What was right.