He stepped back, hands at his sides and his beautiful face a mask. “I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”
Her heart wept over his matter-of-fact tone, as if he had no interest in fighting for her. But what would she have said if he told her no, that it was totally unacceptable to end their relationship? That he loved her and wanted her in his bed, come hell or high water?
She’d have refused.
So here they were. Parents. And nothing else.
That made her want to weep more than anything else that had happened today.
Twelve
Antonio stood outside Caitlyn’s old bedroom at 1:00 a.m., hands on the wood, listening to her breathe. God, this separation was an eternal hell.
After two days of staying out of her way, he was done with it.
She was awake and lying there in despair. He could sense it. Her essence had floated down the hall to him on a whisper of misery, and he’d caught it easily because he’d been lying awake in his own bed in similar turmoil.
His headaches had grown worse since they’d been apart, and his pillow still smelled like Caitlyn even after ten washings. She haunted him, asleep or awake. Didn’t matter. She was so close, yet so far, and his body never quite got used to the fact that she wasn’t easily accessible any longer. He still rolled over in the night, seeking her heat and the bone-deep contentment that came with touching her.
Only to come up empty-handed and empty hearted. The only thing in life that made sense was gone, and it hurt worse than any physical pain he’d ever endured.
The pounding in his temples wouldn’t ease no matter how many rounds he went in the ring at Falco. He’d even resorted to a pain pill earlier that evening, to no avail.
The only thing that ever worked to take away his headache was Caitlyn.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside her room. She didn’t move, but the quick intake of her breath told him she knew he was there.
“I can’t sleep,” he said inanely.
Her scent filled his head, pulsing through it with sweet memories, and it was worse than being in his lonely bed without her. This was too close. And not close enough.
It was maddening.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice whispered across his skin, raising the hair. “But you can’t come in here in the middle of the night.”
“This is my house,” he growled as his temper got the best of him. It was the wrong tactic; he knew that. But she was killing him. “I need to talk to you.”
“Can’t it wait?”
It was a reasonable request for one o’clock in the morning. “No, it can’t. Please, Caitlyn. What can I say, what can I do? I’m sorry. I hate that I did something so inexcusable. Can’t you get past it?”
“I don’t think so.” The quiet words cut through him. “We don’t have the same views on commitment, and that’s not something that I can get past. You told me you believed in forever and I believed you. Now I can’t trust you, and without that, what kind of relationship would we have? I’m not like Vanessa.”
Why couldn’t she see that he didn’t want her to be like Vanessa? At one point in time, he’d liked a certain kind of woman, clearly. But he didn’t remember why and didn’t want to.
He wanted Caitlyn.
And she didn’t want him. Because of something he’d done a long time ago. Something he couldn’t undo. Something that haunted him, something he hated about himself. He’d surgically extract whatever she objected to if he could. If it would make a difference.
But it wouldn’t, and this was one fight he lacked the skill to win.
Without another word, he left her there in the dark because he couldn’t stand the space between them any longer. Couldn’t stand that he didn’t know what to do.
He had to change her mind. She was everything to him and he needed her. Loved her.
For the first time in his life, he was pinned against the fence, strength draining away, and his opponent was too big to overcome.
But he refused to go down for the count. He needed to do something big and drastic to win her back. But what?
* * *
After a long night of tossing and turning, Caitlyn gave up at 5:00 a.m. She’d slept in this bed pre-Antonio for over a year and had never thought twice about it. A few days in paradise, also known as the bedroom down the hall, and suddenly there was no sleep to be had in this old room.
And she wasn’t fooled into thinking it was the mattress. Her inability to sleep had everything to do with the black swirl of her thoughts and the cutting pain in her chest after shutting down Antonio’s middle-of-the-night plea. Closing her eyes only made it worse.