The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

That day marked the beginning of the end, just not how I imagined it. Life never went in the imagined direction. It traipsed through the mud, climbed impossible mountains, and leapt the widest oceans. But usually not without getting muddy, slipping off a few cliffs, and drowning in the current.

Where to go?

What to do?

I didn’t know that answer. Our actions affected two children. Packing a single bag and skipping town or tossing Ronin out of my house held consequences for Franz and Anya.

Instead of busting into Lila’s house, demanding answers, I made the long drive home, being mindful to stay far behind Ronin’s car. I needed the time to think, to let my knee-jerk reaction calm into something less hostile.

I made it to Franz’s school twenty minutes early. Twenty more minutes to let my emotions make sense. When we arrived home, Franz hopped out excited to see Ronin’s car.

“Daddy’s home!”

“Daddy’s home,” I mumbled to myself.

Mrs. Humphrey greeted us as Ronin held a finger to his lips. “Shh … she’s sleeping.”

My baby girl wasn’t well yet—another reason I needed to be meticulous with my words and actions. Everything we did had aftershocks that could be felt for many miles.

“Go wash your hands, Franz.” I shooed him toward the bathroom, and Mrs. Humphrey followed him.

Keeping my eyes on Anya, in spite of feeling Ronin’s gaze heavy on me, I kissed her warm forehead. Before I could stand straight again, Ronin pressed his free hand to my cheek.

It hurt. That look in his eyes hurt more than his touch, more than the memory of him leaving Lila’s house, more than anything. I had never seen so much torment and regret with one look.

“How was your day?” he whispered.

It felt like my mom died all over again.

I shrugged. “How was your day?”

He released my face and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, eyes slightly narrowed. “I’ve had better days.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later.”

Later …

It felt like the longest evening of my life waiting for later.

Making dinner.

Walking Mrs. Humphrey.

Washing dishes.

Baths for the kids.

Bedtime stories.

Rocking Anya to sleep.

When later came, I didn’t get a confession or a long description of Ronin’s day.

I got a kiss. A hard kiss.

I got needy hands tugging at my clothes.

I got pushed against the bedroom wall as if the bed was just too far.

Ronin stole my breath, my words, my fight.

Tears begged to be set free. Words fought for their voice. All thoughts evaporated as he suffocated me with his need. That need broke my heart as tiny pieces of the puzzle started to align. This explosive need came from Lila.

The day he said he was going to Denver for CPR—he went to see Lila.

They shared something I couldn’t completely understand. He felt her … but on what level?

I couldn’t believe he’d cheat on me. I refused to believe Lila would do this to me. There had to be some other explanation. But why the secrecy? If they weren’t having an affair, why lie to me?

So many questions. Ronin didn’t give me a chance to ask a single one before he had half of our clothes ripped off and his cock buried inside of me on a painful grunt. A bed … we had a bed. But he chose the wall as if to prove the depth of his need, the urgency to be inside of me.

I kissed him because I loved him and needed him—needed us—so much that the idea of losing what we had made jagged cuts into my heart, tearing away pieces of my soul.

Over the next few hours—into the early morning hours—I tried to approach the subject of Lila, but Ronin silenced me with his mouth, his hands, his whole body manipulating mine, giving me pleasure but not without pain.

After he passed out a little before two in the morning, I set my tears free and muted my sobs with my pillow. Many years earlier, I’d helped Lila concoct a custom scent for all of her bath products—a very distinct scent made just for her. I knew that scent well.

That scent was all over Ronin.

The next morning, I woke to an empty bed. When I peeked in the garage, Ronin’s Subaru was there, so he must have gone for a hike. As I shut the door, I heard a familiar thunking sound. I shoved my feet into my boots and put on my coat. The kids would likely sleep for another hour.

Pulling my fuzzy pink cap onto my head, I rounded the corner of the house. Mrs. Humphrey darted toward me as Ronin reared the ax back and heaved it forward, splintering a large log.

I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to go outside with him. My mind and my heart still couldn’t agree on the words I needed to say to him.

“Good morning.” He wiped his brow with the sleeve to his coat.