Page 46 of Twisted Fate

She froze, her shorts only halfway up her legs, and looked at me, expression stunned. Before she could form a rebuttal, I continued.

“You’re driving an hour and a half every day just to go home to sleep and come right back. It doesn’t make sense. You could save yourself a lot of time and gas by staying Monday and Tuesday nights.” She was here every day but Thursday when my mom watched Charlie. There was no point in her driving home those two nights when she was just going to come right back the next morning. Sure, I had ulterior motives, but it truly did make more sense for her to stay.

She glanced away, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she contemplated what I said. I had one more card left to play, and I was positive this would win her over.

“Besides, I know Charlie would love having you here more. You wouldn’t have to leave to go home and could tuck her in at night. She would be over the moon if you stayed.” It might have been a dirty trick, but it was true. Charlie hated when Delilah left and sometimes cried. This wasn’t just for me—and to save Delilah travel time—it was for my daughter too.

“So, what do you say?” I prompted.

She hesitated a moment, mulling over my offer. “Itwouldmake things easier on me,” she began, and I could tell I had won her over. “And spending more time with Charlie is always a plus.” Her lips curved into a soft smile, and my heart fluttered. It warmed me from head to toe to see how much she loved Charlie. Each time I saw the way she cared for my little girl, I thanked my lucky stars she offered to be her nanny. Who better to care for my daughter than the woman who gave birth to her?

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to give it a try,” she said finally. She was agreeable, but there still seemed to be some hesitation on her part. What was holding her back? Was it because we were sleeping together? Did she think I would tire of having her around? Or was she worried boundaries would blur even more than they already had?

Shoving those thoughts to the back of my mind, I pulled her into my chest, needing her close to me. Her touch soothed the ache inside me that never seemed to abate when she wasn’t near. She’d become my solace, and I craved the comfort her presence brought me. I worried sometimes I’d become too reliant on her, that I used her comfort to smother my grief, but I pushed down those concerns, unwilling to give them any merit.

The following week, Delilah brought an overnight bag with her. She had extra clothes and toiletries for her two-night stay. I made sure the guest bedroom had fresh linens and the bed was neatly made. For some reason, I was suddenly nervous about having her here. It wasn’t like she’d never stayed over before, but this would be the first time she spent the night since we started sleeping together. The other times were strictly out of necessity and nothing else. Now there was intent. There were expectations. There was a very real possibility that I’d spend every night she was here beneath the sheets with her.

We’d have to be careful, though. Charlie’s room was just across the hall. She couldn’t see me going in or out of Delilah’s room, nor could we risk her hearing anything. My room was further down the hall. She wouldn’t be able to hear anything from there.

I quickly dismissed that thought. There was no way I could let Delilah in there. That had been Sarah’s space. Though her sweet scent no longer lingered in the air, her memory was still ever present in that room. Her jewelry box still sat atop the dresser, and her clothes still hung in our shared closet. I needed to pack up her things, maybe donate her clothes to charity and save her jewelry for Charlie, but I didn’t have the heart to go through them yet. I would in time, but I wasn’t ready to let go.

My stomach knotted with guilt, my chest tightening as grief washed over me. How could I miss Sarah so badly, yet feel so much for Delilah? Sure, things had been rocky in our marriage for a while, but we were working on it. It wasn’t perfect, but nobody’s was. We were supposed to have years left, but her life was cut short. And it was my fault.

“There you are,” Delilah said from the doorway. My head snapped up, and I was greeted with her bright, beaming smile. Dropping my gaze, I tucked the last corner of the freshly laundered blanket under the mattress and swallowed down the guilt clogging my throat. I couldn’t look at her. It tore my heart in two after thinking about Sarah.

“Room’s all ready,” I said with a tight smile and walked toward the door. I went to brush past her, but she stopped me with her hand on my chest.

“Hey,” she said softly, sensing my disquiet, “are you okay?” My eyes shut of their own volition, and I fought the urge to melt into her touch. I stood there, my chest lifting as I drew in a deep breath. Her hand slid up my shoulder and neck until it cupped my face. I leaned into her palm, unable to resist. I remained silent, unable to give voice to my inner turmoil.

“I’m here if you want to talk about it.” I simply nodded and stepped out of her grasp.

I was too unsettled to eat, my stomach revolting at the mere thought of food. So, I filled a travel mug with coffee and headed to work before Delilah came back downstairs. I needed to clear my head before I saw her again. I was beginning to wonder if asking her to stay the night was a bad idea. I wanted her close, but I felt like I was betraying Sarah by having her stay in our home.

Had Sarah felt like she was betraying me when she was texting another man?

I shook away those thoughts. I couldn’t think of her like that. She was gone and couldn’t defend herself. I never learned the extent of her involvement with him, but she’d swore they never slept together, and I had to believe that. Ineededto or everything I thought I knew about my late wife would be a lie.

I was wrung out by the time I arrived at the office, and the day hadn’t even started yet. I buried myself in work, trying to forget about everything that waited for me at home. It worked for a little while, but as I shut down my computer for the day, it all began to seep back in.

I was somber by the time I arrived home. It was later than I realized, and Delilah and Charlie had already had dinner and were watching a movie in the family room. Charlie greeted me with her usual enthusiasm, and I bent to kiss her on the head.

“Hey, how was your day?” Delilah asked, her eyes weary and expression guarded. I hated that I made her feel that.

“It was okay. I have a little work I need to finish up. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.” She nodded and went back to watching the movie, but I felt her gaze on my back when I turned and headed for the door.

I sat at my desk and powered up my laptop. As I waited for it to turn on, my gaze settled on the knob where I’d secured the tie binding Delilah’s hands. My dick stirred in my pants at the memory of her delicious naked body sprawled across my desk. She’d been so wet, there wasn’t a drop of friction when I slid inside her. Fuck, I needed to stop thinking about that and focus on my work. I fell behind after spending most of the afternoon in meetings.

A short time later, three timid knocks to my door frame pulled my attention from the screen, and I looked up to find Delilah leaning against it. Her arms were crossed over her middle, and one leg was bent at the knee with her foot resting atop the other.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, her eyes filling with worry.

“Not yet,” I admitted.

“There’s a plate for you in the microwave if you get hungry.”

“Thank you.” She watched me for a moment, hopeful and expectant.

“I’m going to put Charlie to bed and turn in.” It was an invitation. She wanted me to come to her, and I wanted to, but the war inside me still raged. I missed my wife. I wanted Delilah. Could those things exist simultaneously without tearing me apart?

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