“I feel so much closer to you now.” He said the words matter-of-factly, but there was a slight hint of threat to his tone. “Now, will you answer me?”
Out of principle, I refused to.
“I assume you intend to spend your vacation time with your new son in Rome. I suppose that’s fine. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”
I shouldn’t be surprised he knew that information, but I still felt violated by it. This man knew everything about me. He probably kept tabs on me when I was off the clock. Every time I visited Sofia, he knew about it. He probably even knew I fucked her too.
He tapped his fingers against the table as if he were playing a song. But the music was chaotic and unpredictable. If anything, it just sounded like noise. Is that what he heard inside his brain every day? Noise?
“Aren’t you going to thank me for saving your life?”
“I don’t understand why you did.”
His fingers stopped drumming. “I think it’s obvious. And I would hope you would do the same for me.”
I couldn’t stop myself from shaking my head.
“When are you going to leave the past behind you? Hades, it’s time to move on. We’re partners now.”
“No, I’m a hostage.”
Maddox smiled like it was impossible to take me seriously. “You should look up the meaning of hostage because you clearly don’t understand it. None of your rights have been revoked. You are paid handsomely. And you are protected.”
He made it sound like I’d won the lottery. “Why did you save me?”
He cocked his head slightly.
“Why?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Answer me.”
He leaned forward again and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Would you rather me not save you?”
“Yes.”
He slowly leaned back, his body sagging with devastation. The pain entered his eyes, and it was the first time he actually seemed wounded. Up until that point, he’d seemed invincible. But something about my words hit him right in the heart.
He rose from his chair and didn’t look at me again. He slowly moved through the tables and exited the restaurant. He didn’t come back for me. And a moment later, I saw him walk past the windows, his hands in his front pockets…like he was just another person on the street.
I stood on her front doorstep and waited for her to come to the entryway. I was in jeans and a t-shirt, surprised summer had come so soon. Last summer, I married Sofia. That felt like a lifetime ago. I still remembered the way she looked in her wedding dress… I remembered taking it off when we came home.
My marriage didn’t last long, but it was happy for its duration.
Sofia opened the door wearing a blue dress that fit her comfortably. Her hair was thick and curled, and even though she looked beautiful, she clearly looked distressed. Her stomach was considerably bigger than the last time I saw her. “Hey…”
Maybe when she looked in the mirror, she saw a large pregnant woman who wasn’t the least bit arousing, but I saw something completely different. I saw a woman doing the sexiest thing in the world…giving birth to a son.
When she’d made a comment about me being with strippers and whores, it offended me because she didn’t understand the depth of my feelings. Maybe they were thinner than she was, but they certainly weren’t as pretty. Being with them would just make me lonely and depressed. This long venture into celibacy wasn’t a good solution, but I didn’t know what else to do.
I couldn’t be with anyone else.
She opened the door wider, and she stepped aside. “Come in.”
I moved inside, but I hoped I wouldn’t run into her mother. The last time I saw her, it was awkward. I suspected an awkward conversation was about to follow, but when I stepped inside the house, it seemed quiet. Now that I was with Sofia, I didn’t know what to do. It felt strange to go to her bedroom, but it felt odd to leave the house when she was so obviously uncomfortable. I stayed quiet and let her decide.
“Where are your bags?”
“I already checked in to the hotel.”
Her eyes slowly fell with sadness. “Oh…”
I didn’t want to repeat what happened last time. It had felt good in the moment, but afterward, I’d felt like shit. I was sure she felt the same way.
“You want to go to dinner?”
She stared at me blankly like she hadn’t heard a word I said. “I don’t want you staying at the hotel.”
I’d hoped this argument wouldn’t come up, but she seemed adamant about having it. “I think it’s more appropriate.”
“I don’t want appropriate. I want you beside me every night so you can feel your son kick and move. And I want to make sure we’re together when he comes. When my water breaks, I want you there for that. I don’t want to be sleeping alone when the biggest event of my life happens.”