Page 60 of Hidden Memories

My breath hitches.

His skin is taut, warm-toned, stretched over every solid muscle like it hasn’t changed a day since I last touched him.

His voice is low, thick with exhaustion. “Are you okay?”

Most people would lie. Say yes, just to end the moment. But I don’t.

Not this time.

“Not really.”

His features fall instantly, dark eyes blazing with concern. “What happened?”

I move to the edge of the couch, running my fingers along the velour fabric, grounding myself. “That’s what I came to find out.”

Silence stretches between us, as heavy as the past.

Santi shifts and pats the open space beside him. “Sit with me?”

I hesitate. Mila jumps up first, claiming the spot like a queen.

I can’t help but laugh, light and easy, a contrast to the heavy tension.

He scratches behind her ears, his lips quirking in amusement. “Not you.”

She licks his face before he pulls away with a smirk, nudging her toward his feet.

“Do you mind?” He tilts his head toward his sleepy, oversized pup.

I sink down beside them, running my hand over Mila’s soft fur. Maybe for her comfort. Maybe for mine.

“Not at all,” I murmur. “When Nic died, the first thing I did was let Keeper sleep in the bed.”

Santi’s jaw tics. “I never gave my condolences.”

“None needed.” There isn’t a cell inside me that misses that man. “I’m not sad. He wasn’t a good husband or father. And even though we’re now…” I hesitate. I don’t want to admit how dire our financial situation is. “…we’re going to have to make ends meet, but Theo and I are better without him.”

He drags his fingertips along his mouth, considering my words.

I force out a humorless laugh. “You think I sound like an asshole, right? That I should be sad my husband died?”

His answer is immediate. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

I blink, taken off guard. “What were you thinking?”

“That the woman I knew under that tree would never have stayed with a man like that.” Santi’s energy is rough and soft at the same time. “He must have been one hell of a devil to break you. Because I know how strong you are.”

Something inside me cracks. A flood rushes in.

“I am strong.” My voice wobbles. “But he was stronger. And… there is no better leverage than a child.”

A beat of silence.

Then, I murmur, “I didn’t come down here to talk about Nicholas. I came here to talk about us.”

His whole posture shifts. He stiffens slightly. “Unfortunately, this Nic is part of our story. Isn’t he?”

A shadow falls between us, and his next words are a punch to the gut.

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