Page 62 of The Secret Play

I lost all control when I came, slamming deep and rough inside of her, losing myself in her. The world burst with color and light as I came, and I wrapped her in my arms to keep her there with me.

But the ecstatic frenzy wore away with unusual speed.

I did what I could to maintain that peaceful feeling. Afterward, we lay tangled together on the bed, the air between us ripe with unspoken words. I traced lazy patterns on her arm, my mind racing with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. This wasn’t just passion. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment.

It was about us. It wasn’t some physical thing. There were vitally important things to talk about, but I wasn’t sure how to start. Or if she wanted me to. She and Winnie were the life I hadn’t even realized I wanted until it was staring me in the face.

But she kept my daughter from me for five years. That was a wound I didn’t know how to heal. The thought of leaving her now made my chest ache, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t offer a solution to our situation, and staying would only make that worse. “I should go.”

She nodded, her expression unreadable. “Okay.”

I stood, grabbing my clothes from where they had fallen on the floor. She followed me to the door, her hand brushing mine as I reached for the knob.

“Casey,” she said, her voice stopping me in my tracks.

I turned, my heart pounding.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, frowning.

“For tonight,” she said, her eyes shining.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded and stepped outside, the cool night air hitting me like a wake-up call. The drive home was quiet, but my mind was anything but.

Chapter 24

Gemma

The house was too quiet without him.

After Casey left, I sat on the couch, staring at the door like it might open again. Like he might come back, sweep me into his arms, and tell me everything would be okay.

But of course, he didn’t.

He didn’t have a key, so he couldn’t just barge in here. We hadn’t gotten that far along yet. It was stupid to sit there, waiting for it to happen when I knew it couldn’t. And yet, I did.

My heart was an idiot.

The ring was gone, back on his thumb where it belonged, but it felt like he’d left something bigger behind—an ache that settled in my body and refused to budge. I could still smell his cologne lingering in the air, faint and earthy, and it made my stomach twist with longing.

I loved him.

I loved the way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the room. I loved the way he talked to Winnie, the way he’d pushed her on the swings and played tag with her like it was the most natural thing in the world. I loved his silver hair, the lines around his eyes, the way his age gave him a depth and steadiness that no one else I’d ever met had.

And I missed him.

It was a physical ache, a hollowness in my body that made everything else seem dull and unimportant. I felt empty without him here. Could I be codependent on someone I’d known for so short a time? Was that a thing? I wasn’t sure. But even now, I could picture the way he’d looked at me before he left, his blue eyes filled with emotions he hadn’t put into words.

I wanted him back. But I didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken.

I wound my way through the cottage, turning off lights and closing up for the night. I found my hairband on the floor in the kitchen. It had come undone when he reached into my hair to pull me off of him. For some reason, the sight of it on the tile made me weep. I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand, washed up, and went to bed, where I cried myself to sleep.

In the morning, I got a call I never wanted.

“We’re running the story tomorrow morning,” Gordon said, his tone brisk. “Don’t worry, your name’s not in it.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. “Who is covering the story?”

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