Page 41 of Erik

The ice cap around my heart cracks. I fuse it back together before meeting his eyes. A bucketful of anguish with a dash of hope swirls in the chocolate pools. I wish I could dive into those eyes, cradle his heart, and patch it up. With a deep inhale, I remind myself I can barely fix my own wounded heart.

I praise his decision, “Good for you. I’ve also gone back to my old therapist. With her assistance I’ve put things into perspective.” He opens his mouth. I raise a hand. “Please, let me finish.” I don’t trust my resolve if he argues my points.

He chews his lower lip before adding, “Go on.”

I confess, “I’ve gotten to know different versions of you. Sensitive Erik, Caring Erik, and Dedicated Dad Erik, make me swoon. Sexy Erik takes me to the moon and back, multiple times.” He jerks forward, but I dodge his lips. I jab the air with an index finger. “But my attraction to you has taken me places I dread. It has stirred emotions that consume my oxygen, not in a good way.” I lace our fingers together, holding his stare. I fill my lungs with an inhale, letting air out in a long sigh. With my heart stuck in my throat, I ask the question I most fear, “Is kinky a deal breaker for you?”

He shakes his head. “No. We’ve had vanilla and it was fantastic.”

His prompt reply releases part of the air trapped in my chest. I need more. “Are you positive, a hundred per cent sure that months from now, you won’t resent me for not embracing your lifestyle?”

He hesitates for a heartbeat before squeezing my hands, “Absolutely.”

That fraction of time it took him to reply is the evidence I didn’t want to obtain. Choosing to protect my fragile heart, my hard-earned sanity, I steel myself.

I frame his cheeks with my hands, pull him in, and smooch his lips. My heart bleeds when I whisper, “Youwantto believe vanilla will work for you. It even might, for now.” I rest my forehead against his. “Deep down you know it won’t in the long run.” He squeezes his eyes shut, his nostrils flare with breathing as ragged as mine. I grunt, “I’m not ready to discuss my reasons, but please respect my choice.” He swings his head from side to side. “Are you saying ‘no’ to my request or our goodbye?”

His reply is a kiss infused with such desperation it melts the ice I’d gathered inside to shield myself. I should’ve known it wouldn’t resist our passion.

The office door slams against the wall, and I jerk away from his lips. A stunning redhead walks in, with Meg and Liam trailing her. It’s like looking in a mirror, if the glass surface reflected a version of me modeling Gucci designs. She stops by the door, glaring, and holds Liam by his shoulder to thwart his attempt to rush to his father.

The boy grins, shouting, “Daddy.”

“Hey, buddy,” he replies, with a lackluster grin.

Addressing Erik, the woman demands, “Who the fuck is the slut kissing you?”

I squint at her. There’s something familiar about her, besides the likeness between us. My heart fractures into million pieces as it recognizes her. I blurt. “It’s you. You got onstage in that concert in Boston.” I mutter, under my breath, “It should’ve been me.”

She narrows her eyes, baring her teeth in a distorted sneer only I can see. Father and son have their eyes trained on me. Her voice drips with honey when she replies, “That was a wild night.” She covers Liam’s ears, as if that could protect him from her venom. “I bet that’s when our son was conceived.” She glances at Erik.

I grab my helmet and purse and unfold from the couch. If only picking up the pieces of my heart were that easy.

Without glancing his way, for fear of getting cold feet, I groan, “I’m done here.”

16

Erik

Ispring from the coffee table and grab her arm. Torn between letting her go without a fight, and making a scene in front of Liam, I grasp at straws for a solution to the conundrum.

Wearing my heart on my sleeve, I whisper for her ears only, “Please, don’t go.”

She shakes her head, but her eyelids flutter, unshed tears pooling.

I beg, “Don’t leave me.”

She casts her eyes to the floor.

Running out of subterfuges, I lay my cards on the table. “Christine, I love you.”

With a strangled sob, she replies, “I can’t. Please, you’re hurting me.” Her eyes dart to my hand on her, but her tone refers to much more than just my fingers biting into her upper arm.

My heart shatters like a broken mirror, each sliver reflects my many imperfections, the reasons why my worst nightmare has come true. Christine can’t love a monster with a distorted soul such as mine. I jerk back, releasing my grip on her.

She rubs the spot where the imprint of my hand has turned raging red. She blinks a couple of times, her step falters, but she squares her shoulders as if to leave. Yet she doesn’t, lingering in the office like she doesn’t know which way to turn.

Carlotta, Meg, and Liam have come to stand beside me. Since my heart can’t survive additional thrashing, I choose to shield it by taking a coward’s way out. I rest my hands on Liam’s shoulders, pulling him against my legs. He tips his head up, and I return his broad grin with a sincere one. His devotion never ceases to warm me up.

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