She must have finally noticed my stare, because she turned my way.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have averted my gaze because I didn’t give a shit if I was caught. But now, it seemed inappropriate, to stare at her like a man stupidly in love with his woman. She wasn’t mine anymore…and she wouldn’t be again.
She set her book on her lap. “How’s your dinner?”
I finished chewing before I answered. “Good.” I couldn’t really taste the food because I wasn’t paying attention. I never appreciated my meals anyway, because they were flooded with scotch.
“My mom’s not a bad cook, huh?”
I shrugged. “She won’t take Helena’s job, but she’s good.”
Sofia chuckled. “I miss that woman. My mom tried to cook like her…doesn’t work.”
“You want her?”
Sofia’s eyebrows rose off her face. “What?” she asked with a laugh.
“Well, you can have her if you want her.” Sofia could have anything that she wanted.
“I’d love that, but she’s yours. I’ll find my own Helena.”
We’d been divorced for months, but comments like that still killed me. Still ripped open old wounds. My hand ached like I’d just gripped a pen too tightly and signed our divorce papers. My heart bled the same as the night she told me she was going to leave. I was stuck in a time vortex. Months passed for everyone else, but for me, everything stayed the same. I couldn’t bed another woman because it felt like I was cheating on my wife.
Even though I didn’t have a wife.
So I was jerking off like a fucking teenager.
I’d killed my father and committed other horrendous crimes…but did I deserve this?
I finished my plate and left the dishes behind. I continued to sit in the chair because I knew what would happen the second I got into bed. I dreamed about that moment, but I also dreaded it. “I can take these dishes downstairs and wash them.”
“Nonsense. I’ll carry them downstairs next time I go down.”
“No, I will.” I stacked the dishes and covered them with my linen napkin so it wouldn’t make the bedroom smell like room service in a hotel. I rose to my feet and walked to my side of the bed. My phone was placed on the nightstand, along with my watch. It was just the way I had it at home. My watch used to be tucked into my dresser because I chose a new one every day, but since Sofia gave that one to me, I didn’t have the heart to ever change it. I still remembered the moment she gave it to me so vividly. In that instant, my life changed forever. I got everything I ever wanted, and I was happy. I wasn’t happy anymore, but I continued to wear it…because the memory was strong enough to lift my sorrow sometimes. I wasn’t sure I would be able to wear it once she remarried. Knowing she’d told another man she loved him would just make it too difficult.
“Are you alright?”
I didn’t realize I’d been staring at the nightstand for over a minute now. I couldn’t live in the moment with her because I was constantly dragged into the past and the future. I turned to her then finally got into bed without answering her question. I turned off the bedside lamp and let the room descend into darkness.
She closed her book and set it on her nightstand before she got comfortable beside me. She didn’t reach out and touch me, keeping her hands to herself.
I lay on my back with my hands on my stomach, my blood running hot because I knew she was right beside me. In a nightdress with her long hair falling to my fingertips, she represented the strongest kind of temptation. She was practically a sack of a billion euro…and I forced myself not to take it.
“Come here,” she whispered in the darkness. She beckoned to me with the beautiful sound of her voice. It was intoxicating in tone and affection.
I tried to resist as long as I could, but I knew how this would end. What was the point in fighting? I turned on my side and faced her, getting a jolt of pain when I saw how beautiful she was with her cheek to the pillow. With her hair flowing around her, she looked angelic.
Her dress was pulled up to her chest so her belly was visible. The swell of her stomach was so enticing, the way her natural arch deepened because her weight distribution had changed. There were stretch marks below her belly button, but even those were sexy. “Touch me.”
I hadn’t felt my son as much as I would’ve liked. Being apart for months had denied me the luxury. I couldn’t resist the offer now, so I placed my hand over her large stomach and noticed the distinct hardness, the vibration of life underneath my palm. It was a riveting experience, but it also made hair stand up on the back of my neck, made me so hard that my boxers barely fit. I couldn’t explain my powerful attraction. She’d been my wife when she was petite, curvy, and fitting into a size zero with no struggle. She was a million times sexier like this, with this belly sticking out from her frame. The words left my lips entirely on their own. “You are so sexy, baby…” I stared at my large palm as it rested on top of her. I was a big man, but even my large hand couldn’t cover her entirely. My eyes drifted back to hers to see her reaction to my bold confession.