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“The same room as…before?” She hesitated a little because ‘before’ now seemed like a whole lifetime ago.
“Actually, perhaps put her into the room Jane used for now.”
Skye didn’t question it, but simply carried the little girl through the apartment and placed her in bed, snuggling Bunny into her side. Harper smiled gratefully, yawned, then drifted off as Skye watched. Leandro was behind her, his eyes showing a softness that took Skye’s breath away.
“She’s so sweet,” he said, as if in complete awe.
Skye’s heart twisted. “Yes.”
Now that they were through the drama of Harper’s kidnapping, and days had elapsed between that awful night and this, Skye had begun to think a little more clearly, to examine all the circumstances before her. And she felt a strange stirring of emotions. Questions. Doubts. Uncertainties.
Hurt.
Because the night she’d called Leandro, he’d been here in New York, and he hadn’t told her. Which is what she might have said she’d wanted, once upon a time—for them to live separate lives. But knowing he’d been in the city and that she hadn’t known had felt like having acid poured over her skin. She hated it. She hated the reality she’d fought for, but what was the alternative?
They walked in silence back to the living room, and Leandro began to pull containers from the fridge. Only Skye wasn’t remotely hungry.
“Do you mind if we wait a bit. Perhaps we could just…talk?”
He flicked a glance at her. Was he nervous? Leandro?
She half shook her head. “I mean, unless you’re hungry.”
“I can wait.” He replaced the containers in the fridge. “Thank you for coming over tonight.”
She nodded. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did the other night. You didn’t have to help me. I probably had no right to ask. But I’m so glad you did. I’ll never forget your role in bringing her home.”
His eyes showed emotions she couldn’t comprehend.
“The police are throwing the book at him,” Leandro said slowly.
“I know.”
He nodded once.
“I thought you could use the same law firm as a conduit for the trial. They will look after your interests, advise you on the matter of testimony. They’ll also push for a quick trial, so you do not have this hanging over your head indefinitely.”
“It’s not over my head. There’s no way he’ll get away with this. He did too much. It’s all on tape, everything. He’ll go to jail. My nightmare is over.”
“Yes.”
“That night,” she hesitated, cleared her throat. “You were in New York.”
He was still, watchful. “There was a gala, a charity event being thrown by a very close family friend.” He reached for his water and took a sip. “I thought about inviting you, but I suspected you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”
Her lips pulled to one side. She said nothing.
“Were you here long?”
“I flew in a few days earlier.”
She gasped, the betrayal like a knife in the gut. Days. Nights. In the city and without her.
“You told me you didn’t want to see me again,” he reminded her.
“I know that.” Her voice sounded so ambivalent. She cleared her throat. “This is just harder than I thought it would be.”
“Skye, listen to me.” He came around to her side of the bench. “When we met, I wasn’t myself. I didn’t know myself, I didn’t know what I wanted, I didn’t know anything. Except that I couldn’t let you go. Except that I had to have you. Except that you were meaningful in a way I couldn’t articulate nor even, honestly, understand.”
