“You’d have to ask her.”
“I did.”
Harry angled a glance at the younger man. “Leo, you know how I feel about you.”
Leonardo took another sip of coffee, trying to appear casual.
“But don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t start something with Cass.”
“By asking questions about her marriage?”
“Is that all this is?”
Leonardo didn’t want to lie to a man he thought of as a second father. “I’m interested,” he said, a slight variation on what he’d answered with earlier. “At one time, Cassie was the most important person in my life.”
Harry turned back to Audrey, and they both watched as she jabbed two totally differed sized sticks into the side of the snowman. The smaller stick wobbled a bit but then stayed put, while the larger dropped to the ground, taking a chunk of snow with it.
You could tell a lot about someone from how they dealt with adversity. Audrey looked at the stick on the ground, then at the snowman, and then laughed, shaking her head a little before crouching down in that way children had, where their knees were bent and their bottom lifted off the ground, so that she could repair the damage. She sung while she worked. Leonardo smiled. He didn’t know Audrey’s father, but in so many ways, she was pure Cassidy. It made his heart lift, and it sure made it easy to like the little girl.
“I know you think she’s strong,” Harry’s voice came almost out of nowhere, drawing Leonardo’s attention back. “But she’s not the same girl she used to be. After you left, she was, well, she was destroyed, son. I’d never seen her like it. I’d never seenanythinglike it. It was as though all the lights of her soul had gone out.”
Leonardo closed his eyes. He felt sick with regret. He hated that she’d been through that. “I made a mistake.”
“What were you meant to do? Stay here your whole life? You had dreams, and the kind of opportunity most kids would kill for.”
Leonardo stared at Harry, something shifting in his chest. Was it possible the older man didn’t know that he’d cheated? Was it possible Cassidy hadn’t told him?
He swallowed, his throat oddly constricted. “But then she met Grant anyway,” Leonardo said. “So she must have loved him. I mean, they were married and then had a kid pretty damned fast.”
Harry’s brows knit together. “You don’t know why they married?”
Leonardo frowned. “Because they were in love?”
“I guess,” Harry shrugged, eyes darting towards Audrey.
Leonardo’s gut churned. The thought of Cassidy loving someone else so quickly after him burned.
“Cass is trying real hard to find her feet again,” Harry said, his voice graveled by age and emotion. “She’s trying to find herself. I know you—care about her,” he said. “The best thing you can do is just leave her be.”
The older man was right. Leonardo didn’t want to make things complicated for Cassidy, but at the same time, he had a growing sense of unfinished business. He needed to talk to her, to understand, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her dodge the questions.
She wasn’t running awayfrom her real life and responsibilities, but nor could Cassidy deny how much she felt like time with Leo was a much needed reprieve from the heaviness of this, their first Christmas away from home, from Grant, her first Christmas a single mother, Audrey’s first Christmas without her dad. Not that Grant had ever really made it particularly special, anyway, but it was notionally a big deal to be doing this separated. And in the back of Cassidy’s mind was Grant’s request for a photo op. She’d told him no, of course.
The cheek of the man, thinking that he could propose something so cynical when he hadn’t even spoken to Audrey in months.
He had no feelings whatsoever, no normal amount of love for their child.
He truly was a monster.
She pushed open the door to the hotel room, her heart racing as she slipped inside, and froze.
Leonardo stood, shirt off, weights in hands, doing a workout. Her mouth went dry.
“Don’t stop on my account,” she murmured, moving to the bed and sitting down cross legged. He rotated a little, so he could face her, and her pulse increased exponentially.