Page 54 of The Widower
If he wanted to play, I’d play.
He probably expected that. His face didn’t move, though—same controlled, unreadable expression.
“It won’t,” he said quietly.“My isolation has nothing to do with easing or worsening the pain. I just... can’t do the things that used to feel normal before Maddison died. I’ll never accept losing my daughter the way I did. And I’ll never forgive myself for it.”
“And what about your wife, I—”
“You’ve got one question left. You sure you want to waste it on that?”
“Maybe… we should just drop this game,” I said, standing up.
“Did he ever hit you or your daughter?” he asked, standing too.
This had gone way too far—and even a blind man could see it.
“That’s personal.”
“I know.”
He didn’t look away, and for a moment, I couldn’t either. Like him, there were things I struggled to say out loud.
“Yes,” I finally admitted. “He hit me.But he never touched Hanna. It started with shoving, then slaps… and one day, he punched me. I threatened to go to the police right then, but he said if I did, he’d take Hanna away forever, and I’d never see her again.I gave in—like an idiot. I was young, terrified, and stupid enough to believe him. After that, whenever he took her out, he’d stay gone longer than he should, just to scare me. Still, Hanna adored him. You know how she is—she bonds with people easily.But after that day, I made sure never to leave them alone together again.
“For a while, he seemed to change. He apologized every day, said he was trying to be better—for her, for me. And I believed him, because he was working hard to provide for us, and he treated me the way he did when we first met. He never hit me again. But a few months later, he disappeared. Completely gone.
“If I’d had the mindset I have now, I never would’ve stayed after the first time he laid a hand on me. Because it was never just physical—it was emotional, too.”
Colin was still staring at me, but now he looked... tense.Shaken, even. I was too. I didn’t talk about this kind of thing. Ever.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “This game went too far.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, my voice catching a little. “I still have one question left.”
He didn’t answer, so I took a breath and went for it. “What’s your problem with my kiss? Was it really that bad—kissing a woman who hasn’t been with anyone in months? Why threaten me when you could just stay the hell away?”
“I think you’re over your question limit,” he muttered, turning away. But I wasn’t done.
“And I think you don’t have the guts to tell me the truth.”
And there I was—confronting my boss about a kiss that should’ve been forgotten days ago.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his deep voice filling the space between us.
“Yeah, figured. Guess I’m just not good enough for you, huh?”
“Don’t ever say that again!”
He took two quick steps toward me, closing the distance until his body was almost pressed against mine.
“Colin—”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he growled.
“I never said you were.”
“Why the hell do you think you’re a bad kisser?” he asked, brows arched, his voice low, steady—laced with impatience and something I couldn’t quite name.
His eyes burned into me, and for a split second, I felt small under that intensity.
