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“We’ll just wait a little longer to tell her.”
She rubbed her forehead. When her gaze found his again, a dark emotion blazed in her eyes. “I don’t want to be the other woman. One thing was being with you when she wasn’t around, but I can’t sneak out on my best friend.”
“Brit. Don’t do this to us.” He reached for her hand, but she jerked away from him.
Hurt flickered in her eyes, tears brimming her lids. “Sometimes, leaving is the only way.”
“No, no,” he insisted, anguish tearing at his heart. “We’ll figure out a way to tell her. She understood when I said I’m seeing someone. She didn’t make a big deal, and she seems adamant on prioritizing the children.”
“So am I. I love your children, and don’t want to lie to them or pretend.”
“Brit, don’t quit on me. You know how much I hate quitters.” His father had quit on he and his mother. His wife had left him without much thought. Yet the idea of losing Britwas like jumping into a dark hole, and leaving him lost and disoriented. “You told me you love me.”
“I love you, but not enough to give up doing on what’s right. No one should have to do that.”
“You’re using excuses. You’re scared. We have a challenge with her being here, yes, but together we can fix this.”
“I don’t want to. We’re done.” She lowered her voice.
We’re done.Her words reverberated through him, each syllable a new dagger to his heart. “How dare you? You come into my life, make my believe again, I open up, and you leave at the first obstacle?” he said, not caring who heard him. Not caring about anything other than telling her how he felt—because that was what she’d fucking taught him how to do. “One of us isn’t ready for love, Brit, but that isn’t me.”
* * *
Damian walked through the kitchen,tossing the car keys in a bowl. He’d had the longest day of his life. He’d lost Brit, then had to go back for a surgery and leave his feelings in the scrubbing room. But now, exhausted and depressed, the emotions filled him with double rawness. How could this have happened? They were doing so well.
He loved her—and admitted to it. Hell, when he dated Violet, he told her he loved her after two years of dating. He didn’t use those words loosely like most people. Perhaps Brit had. Perhaps she didn’t return his love, otherwise she wouldn’t have shut him out without much fanfare. Like what they shared hadn’t meant much to her.
He grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and twisted the cap off. What he needed was some intravenously stiff liquor to numb him into sleep, but he didn’t want to. Amanda still woke up at night, and preferred him to soothe her over her mother, who remained in the guest room.
“Long day?” Violet asked, showing from the living area. “I just got the kids to go to bed.”
“Good.”
“You know, I’ll start thinking of my life. I can’t expect to live here forever,” she said, glancing around the kitchen. “I’ll find a job and get my own place.”
He rubbed his temples. It all sounded great, but after what she had put him through, he’d have to see it to believe it. As long as she stuck around for the children, he’d support her.
“If you’re serious about working and getting back on your feet, I can set you up to live somewhere.”
“Are you serious? I mean, I wasn’t—”
“We will be divorced, Violet. Now you’re here, we can sign the papers and iron out the details. You’ll have the kids for whatever amount of time I see fit,” he said. Even if she went after fifty-fifty custody, he’d make sure she was in a good place before spending so much time with Amanda and Trevor. “You’ll need a safe environment for when the kids are with you.”
“You would help me get settled after all I’ve put you through?”
He shrugged. Of course he would. She was the mother of his children, and for what it was worth, he believed her story. She deserved a second chance—not as a wife, but as a mother. But if she proved him wrong, he wouldn’t hesitate to fight her in court. “Yeah.”
“All right. I’ll sign the divorce papers.” She gave him a once over. “You’re kinder these days. What made you change?”
He picked the beer again and chugged it down. It tasted sour.
“Or should I ask, who made you change?” She lifted her chin. “If I had to guess, I’d say her name is Brittany Jean Russell.”
