“I never got to apologize for the ambush at the airport.” He smiled nervously, trying not to look at her too closely. Even though the pajamas she had on were fairly conservative—a tank and long, black pants—they were strangely erotic to look at, knowing she was bare underneath. He knew all too well what she looked like when naked.
His conflicting emotions were hard enough to handle in the daylight, let alone the dark gloom of night.
“It wasn’t your fault. I knew I had to see them at some point.” She took another sip, soft lips touching china. He watched as she swallowed, eyes closing momentarily to savor the tea.
“I thought it went surprisingly well, considering.” Richard sat down on the sofa beside her, his legs inches from her feet. He wanted to lift them up, put them on his lap and rub them.
He didn’t.
“They’re always gracious. I know it must have been hard, being civil to me after all that’s happened.” Hanna reached forward and put her cup on the coffee table. “They seemed to like Matty, though. That’s all that matters.”
“It will get easier, you know, every time we tell people.” He watched her breath hitch when he said the word we. “Things can only get better.”
She smiled, lighting up the dark room. Despite her tiredness, and the tension of the day, she was still heartbreakingly beautiful, like a work of art. Since becoming a mother, her breasts were rounder, her cheekbones more defined. But it was the inner change that affected him the most, watching her interact with their son. He could so easily fall in love with the way she adored Matty.
Hanna cleared her throat. “I haven’t told my dad yet. I was going to visit him after telling you while I was in New York. I guess I’ll catch up with him after we arrive.” Her brow crumpled.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be having a talk with my mother when we get back, too,” he replied.
Hanna raised her eyebrows. “It never ends, does it? Just when you think the hardest part is over, something else comes up to take its place.”
Richard reached his hand out, then pulled it back, running his finger over the pattern of the sofa. Lifting his head, he looked at her, his expression serious. “You know, when I came to London to find you gone, I thought I’d never be happy again.” Her face stilled at his words. “I thought it would be so easy; I’d come to your flat, sweep you off your feet and carry you back to Manhattan.”
Hanna leaned toward him, eyes glistening. She looked like she wanted to say something, but her lips remained still, her teeth worrying the bottom one.
He took another breath, not sure where he was going with this. He wanted to tell her—needed her to know—just what he’d been through. But to hurt her was to hurt himself.
“I feel like I’ve just existed for two years, like I put things on hold. And to know that I could have spent those two years with Matty and with you…” His voice broke before he could finish his sentence.
“I’m so sorry.” Hanna scrambled to her knees, grabbing his hand and pulling it against her face. “I know I fucked up everything. If I could go back and change it I would.” Her tears moistened his fingers, and he moved his thumb against her cheek, wiping them away. “I hate that you missed out, and I h
ate that I believed you were still with Meredith. Even worse than that, I had a piece of you with me, and you had nothing.”
Richard twisted his hips, turning to face her. Her skin was smooth under his rough fingers, pulled taut against her cheekbones. Just a few inches and he could caress her neck, tangle his fingers into her hair. Pull her against him until their lips…
He shook his head, trying to empty it of conflicting emotions. He wanted to pull her onto him, kiss the holy shit out of her, and grind his aching body against hers until she was begging him for more. But there was a deeper, angrier part of him that wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled, scream at her until she was begging him for mercy.
He needed to go to bed, alone. He didn’t trust himself not to hurt her. He couldn’t depend on her not to hurt him. The web just kept getting stickier.
THE FLIGHT TO New York was as fraught as they’d expected. At first, Matty had been distracted by the movies on the screen in front of him: Hanna pointing out his favorite characters as she tried to stop him from taking the earphones off his head. Then he’d gone through a manic twenty minutes halfway through the flight, trying to escape from them and run down the aisle, not understanding that he needed to sit still. Richard had held him, walking him around the cabin until his head nodded heavy with sleep, before laying him across their laps, hands stroking as he dreamed peacefully.
They didn’t speak of the previous night. Hanna’s tears, and his own embarrassing response were buried at the bottom of their bigger troubles. Matty was their shield and their glue, binding them together while allowing them to ignore everything else that went on between them.
“I’ve asked the staff to prepare rooms for you and Matty,” Richard said, his hand stroking his son’s hair. “I’ve arranged for a bed instead of a cot, in case of any more Houdini escapes.”
Hanna tried to crack a smile. “He’ll have to stick to safe-cracking and base jumping instead, I guess.” She met his gaze. “Thanks for letting us stay while I look for something more permanent.”
It was early evening when they arrived at his apartment. Matty was surprisingly subdued, as if he’d worn off all his energy on the plane. His head lolled against Hanna’s arm as he stared out of the car window, his teeth scraping rhythmically against his thumb. Occasionally, something would take his interest and he’d point, using single words to ask what it was. Hanna would patiently say the word, explaining more about it, and Richard tried not to watch the way her lips moved as she spoke.
He was going crazy having them so close to him, but it would be so much worse when they moved out. He wanted to find a way to keep them near, so he could watch over them, and make sure they were safe. It wasn’t enough just to have them in the same city, he wanted them under his roof.
Jack brought their luggage up, putting Hanna’s cases in her room, unsure of what belonged to her or Matty. She’d packed a smaller bag with their overnight things, and quickly bathed him before putting him in a snug onesie covered with pictures of cars. Richard lingered in the room, watching his son play with the plastic toys he’d asked Lisa to order for him, smiling as he crawled from the plastic garage to the kitchen, his eyes wide with delight.
“It looks like Toys ‘R’ Us just threw up in your apartment,” Hanna observed, watching Matty bang a plastic saucepan against his head. “It seems so incongruous.”
Richard scratched his chin. The apartment clearly hadn’t been decorated with children in mind; a glance at the white walls and raw silk upholstery was enough to give that little snippet away. But somehow, having his son here, being surrounded by childhood paraphernalia, attracted him to the apartment more than any thousand-dollar designer could.
“I just ordered the basics. We’ll have to work out what else we need.” He caught her eye. Her chocolate brown irises were huge, and she stared right back, her lips slightly parted. Then she looked down, eyelashes grazing her cheeks, her fingers trembling as she reached for their son.