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"See," Arturo said smugly.
I punched him on his muscular arm, and he winced. "Ouch, baby doll, you have pokey bones on your knuckles."
"You're full of baloney, Art." I looked at Rowan and sighed. "Come on, let's get this over with so you can get the hell out of my life."
We went in the back where there was a picnic table next to the storage area and large trash cans. Mick's employees came out here to smoke, and since no kids would be allowed back here, I thought it would be a safe place to talk to Rowan.
"Nice ambiance," he remarked, his hands in his pockets.
I sat on the table, my feet resting on the bench seat. I rested my elbows on my knees, leaning forward.
"It's how we roll in Queens, baby," I said in an affected American accent. After years in the United States, my accent, though still British, had picked up many American nuances.
Rowan smiled, rocking on his heels. "I like your friends."
"Mick and Arturo have been my rocks. It was hard, you know. I lost Yas and Derek, and I didn't know what I was doing with Flora. They helped me. Derek's parents were…are great. Getting up there in years, though. Derek was an only child and came late in their lives, so I have to take care of them as well." I shook my head as I decided to not think about what I was going to do if Bea's diagnosis indeed came back as Alzheimer's. Sol would be lost without his wife.
"You take care of everyone, don’t you?" Rowan asked, his eyes probing like he was trying to look for something inside me.
"No. I can't do that. I have responsibilities, though, beyond me. It was just Yas and me before. Now there's Flora, Mick, Art, Sol, and Bea."
"Sol and Bea?"
"Derek's parents," I explained. "What are you doing in New York?"
"Caitlyn's sister's wedding. I skipped rehearsal dinner yesterday to meet Claudio, and the wedding today to see you."
"You missed the wedding you came here for?"
"I don't think I can see my family right now," he spoke softly, watching my face intently, scouring for my emotions. "Ace told me that Caitlyn knew what he did. I…am ashamed of my family, of myself. We have an apartment in Manhattan. But I left last night, checked into a hotel. I need some distance."
He used to not share so easily before. I wondered what kind of self-realization journey got him here.
"What do you want to talk to me about, Rowan?"
"Give me a chance. Give us a chance."
I gaped at him.
He laughed softly at my expression. "I know it feels like it's coming out of nowhere, but the truth is that I have thought of you every single day for the past six years. Every fucking single day."
And I'd thought of him, but that didn't mean bollocks in the scheme of things.
"I don't feel the way I used to. I'm not interested." I wasn't exactly lying. When I first gave Rowan Ledger my heart, I was alone and young. He trampled all over it. Back then, I was wounded and depressed. Now, with a child of my own, I couldn't take such risks.
"You don't love me?"
I shook my head. Even in my dreams, Rowan hadn't asked such a question.
"Are you attracted to me?" he asked next.
I smirked. "Cocky as always, aren't you?"
"I'm serious, Isha."
I straightened and stretched my neck. By most Saturdays, I was just too tired to even think, and the emotional turmoil of seeing Rowan meant I hadn't slept a wink the previous night.
"I have a child now, Rowan. I get hurt; I can't be there for her a hundred percent; that's not a risk I can take," I spoke from my heart, as honestly as I could.
