Page 62 of Free to Breathe
“In the safe in my office. Why?”
I hate to break his heart. “They won’t be there Monday.”
Colby stills. “Why?” His voice is laced with menace.
“You’re in Keene’s old office, Colby. He practically built the Norwalk office while Ali was pregnant because he didn’t want to be commuting to New York. Unless you changed the code on the safe, I guarantee those brownies are gone,” I say with absolute certainty.
The look on his face is priceless, his muted roar more so. “I am going to use his own weapon to kill him. Ali really isn’t in love with him, is she? Why the hell didn’t someone tell me? This is such bullshit.”
I’m wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes, I’m laughing so hard at his rant.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Silvery-gray eyes bore a hole into mine.
“Oh no. I bake when I want to or if I’m being paid.” A puppy-dog look transforms his face. “Think about it this way, you’re getting this for breakfast, whereas I know Ali is likely out for a run.”
Colby doesn’t even think about it. His “Yeah” is filled with menacing relish and lets me know Keene will be hearing all about this. Which means Ali will. Which means the family will.
I shrug any and all privacy goodbye.
“Can I bring this conversation back around to what we were talking about?” I take a sip of coffee.
Colby nods. “Honesty.”
“Both Caleb and Keene hid things from Cassidy and Ali, Colby. Whatever we are, I’ll have none of that. Especially after this week.” My face falls.
Colby stands abruptly. “Are you finished?” He gestures to my mostly eaten plate.
I nod.
“Let’s take our coffee outside and get some air. I don’t want to bring the past in here.”
Mentally agreeing, because I want Addison Kaplan in my house about as much as I want to contemplate having brain surgery, I leave my coffee on the counter long enough to slide on a pair of Chucks that were discarded in the entry. Colby grabs his coffee and then takes my hand. We make our way to the span of doors lining my living room.
Amazing how different this is from the last time we walked this same path a few days ago. Leaving the inside of my house, we reach the back deck and make ourselves comfortable on loungers overlooking the field of wildflowers.
Just as my anxiety begins to creep in, Colby asks me, “How do we start?” His voice holds the same wary concern I feel coursing through my veins.
I reach for my coffee but instead find my hand captured. Colby squeezes it before he caresses my fingers. “Talk with me, Cori.” My eyes flash up at him, ready to protest the use of my nickname, but the protest falls before I can voice it.
But it also causes a crack in the dam of emotion I’ve been holding back.
“Why her, Colby? Why Addison?” It’s the question that feels so good to get out. Long before she ever slept with Colby, she despised me. I still have no idea why.
“Because she’s the complete opposite of you in every way possible.” His answer is immediate.
That stings deep. “She’s insanely beautiful,” I state coolly as I try to pull my hand away.
“She’s a bitch. And if you think I can’t see that, you’re crazy.” His voice is calm. “Stop trying to pull away.”
“So, because she’s a bitch you slept with her not once but twice? How does that make any sort of sense?” I ask incredulously.
He shakes his head back and forth. “I fucked her both times because I couldn’t have you and she was available. I fucked her to get you out of my mind. The first time, I was trying to protect you from something I now realize, in hindsight, I should have given you a choice on. I assumed you were broken, unable to handle what I wanted from you.”
I nod to acknowledge his statement. “Okay, fine. I don’t know what I would have done in college. But you have no idea…” My voice trails off.
His gray eyes narrow. “We’ll get around to talking about what she did to you after I left later. But the second time? The time she brought up the other night?” I feel the slice in my heart again, but Colby wasn’t mine. He isn’t mine now. I suppress my urge to rage. “I had just written the last letter to you. I had no idea you weren’t receiving them, Cori. I thought you just didn’t give a damn.” Letting my hand go, he slides his hand up to my face and cups my chin. “And I’m not going to lie, I was looking for a way to dull the pain. I found it in a shitload of booze and a woman.”
I feel the loss of his hand when he pulls it away and sits back in his lounger. “I’m not proud of myself to admit both times I used Addison to forget it was your face I craved, your body I wanted, and your heart I needed. It always was. I’m beginning to wonder if it always will be.” His head turns toward me to gauge my reaction.
