I wandered the house aimlessly. Walking from one room to the next as I tried to come to terms with how I was feeling.

Panicked. Frustrated. Sad. Angry. Bewildered.

A myriad of emotions jumbled within me as I waited until it was time to go pick up Sloane.

When I’d returned home from my run the night before Katja had been gone.

She’d done what I’d asked, and I knew it was for the best, but that didn’t stop me from feeling like a complete and utter asshole.

I knew she didn’t have a lot of money, a way to get to the airport, or wherever she went… a place to stay, a job… she’d basically put her life on hold to come here for this trial, and rather than let her go back on the return ticket that I’d purchased when I flew her out, I’d left her to fend for herself.

I freaked out. Panicked. If I’d been rational, I would have told her to wait to catch her flight.

But, I had to admit, it was a relief that she was gone.

I didn’t have to face the consequences of my actions that way. There was no confrontation. No fight. No more talk about feelings. Everything I’d wanted to avoid had left with Katja in the night.

I’d barely slept at all. Tossing and turning as I was assaulted by memoires of Sarah. I imaged her reaction to finding out I’d slept with someone else in the bed we used to sleep in. Under her roof.

It made me sick to my stomach, and when I knew there would be no sleep for me, I’d gotten up and began pacing.

Hours later, it was finally almost time to pick up Sloane.

The Jeep was packed up, I’d called Mal and told him to cover my tours, and I was ready to go. We were heading to Grayson’s. I needed to think, to process, and to talk to someone about what had happened.

There was no better sounding board than my brother.

When it was finally time to get my daughter, I locked up the house and drove around the corner.

“Thanks so much for having her, I hope she wasn’t any trouble,” I called as I ushered a reluctant Sloane out of the house after I’d gotten her car seat and other things.

“Daddy,” she started to protest, but I lifted her up and jogged her over to the jeep and buckled her in.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “We’re going to Uncle Gray’s.”

“Again?” Sloane asked, momentarily confused. We never went there more than once a month. Then she decided it was good news, and cheered, “Yay!”

I got into the Jeep and backed out, waving absently at the house as I did, just in case anyone was watching.

We got about two miles down the road when Sloane asked, “Where’s Kat-ya?”

My heart pounded painfully, but I ignored it and answered, “She had to go back to Florida.”

“When will she come back?”

“She’s not coming back, baby,” I said gently as I waited for her reaction.

When I didn’t get one, I breathed a sigh of relief and turned up the radio.

By the time we got to Gray’s, Sloane was passed out in the back, and I was driving myself crazy.

I couldn’t stop thinking of the look on Katja’s face when I’d told her to leave.

Never one to be taken unaware, Grayson was standing out on the porch as we pulled in. He walked toward me, eyes wary, then looked relieved when I pulled a sleep-dazed Sloane out of the back.

“Everything okay?” he asked, unaccustomed to me driving up without calling.

I shook my head and held out Sloane, who was practically jumping out of my arms to get to him.

As I unloaded, she told her uncle all about her sleepover at Sylvie’s.

Once we were all settled inside, Gray looked to Sloane and said, “Princess, why don’t you take Goldie outside and play catch.”

At her name and the word outside, Gray’s golden retriever perked up and ran to the back door.

“’Kay, c’mon Goldie,” Sloane called and ran full out to the door.

Grayson disappeared into the kitchen, then returned with two beers and handed me one.

“What happened?” he asked, taking a seat at the table.

I sat across from him and said, “I fucked up.”

“With the woman?” Gray guessed.

I nodded and took a long pull of my beer.

“I freaked out. We had sex… totally my fault, and it was everything. Hot, amazing, the best I’ve ever had… which meant it was followed by extreme guilt and self-flagellation. I called her Sarah, told her it was a mistake, and made her leave.”

“Jesus,” Gray whispered, his eyes conveying his concern.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. I was falling for her, against my better judgement, and when I felt the connection we had… well, let’s just say I reacted badly and wanted her to feel as shitty as I did. I succeeded.”

“You love her?”

I swore under my breath and felt tears prick my eyes.

“Yeah, man, I think I do. But I can’t love her and feel this guilt. This betrayal. I can’t love her in my wife’s house… in her bed.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, but I know I’m not ready for Katja right now. I need to fix some things about myself, come to terms with Sarah’s death, and give myself permission to move on.” I ran my hand through my hair and gave Gray a pained look. “She told me she loved me and I said, I love you too, Sarah.”

“That’s fucked,” my brother said, making me chuckle.

“It is,” I agreed, then took a deep breath. “I think I need to get help… see someone… talk about it.”

“Like a shrink?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I admitted, even though the thought of talking to a stranger about my feelings made me twitchy.

“Probably a good idea,” Grayson said, and I nodded.

If I had any chance of moving on with my life and having even a remote chance of happiness with Katja, I needed to fix myself. I needed to become the man she deserved. A man who’d love and cherish her for the rest of her life.