NOW

Katia

It’s been two days.

I’ve heard nothing.

Not a damned thing.

It’s the morning of the third day and I’m confused. I don’t understand what happened. I’ve tried to go over the events of that night but nothing comes to mind. I remember an amazing time in the car, but nothing to send him running with no contact. He might be away on business, but he always answers my texts. Even if it’s a simple, asshole answer.

I’m stirring my coffee. I’ve been doing this for the past twenty minutes and have yet to take a sip. It’s probably cold. I’m so deep in thought it takes me a moment to realize the front door has slammed. Shoes squeak down the hall and my head jerks up. I leap out of my chair, rushing out into the hall to see Marcus striding towards the office. His face is blank.

Scarily blank.

“Marcus, where have you been?” I cry, rushing over.

“Busy, Katia.”

His voice comes out . . . dead.

I don’t understand. What did I do?

“Marcus,” I whisper. “What’s going on?”

He turns his dark gaze to mine and I flinch. “I said,” he growls, leaning in close, “I’m busy.”

Swallowing, I watch with a breaking heart as he steps past me and walks off down the hall. Tears burn under my eyelids, and my heart aches. A deep, soul-crushing ache that hurts to the point of no return. When he disappears, I let a single tear go. It slides down my cheek and my bottom lip trembles.

When did things turn so bad?

I don’t understand.

~*~*~*~

MARCUS

Piece of shit.

Monster.

Asshole.

All this shit goes through my head as I leave her, broken.

I had to do it. You don’t understand.

I had to.

~*~*~*~

KATIA

He’s gone out again.

He said it was for a business dinner. He always takes me to those, but tonight he didn’t. He just walked past me without a word.

Something is wrong. Something has happened. I have no idea what it is, but it’s breaking me to pieces inside. He’s closed down, forced himself back more than usual.

Two days, he hasn’t spoken to me.

Two days, he hasn’t come into my bed and made love to me.

Hell, he hasn’t even fucked me.

It’s like I don’t exist.

Bit by bit, I’m slowly breaking to pieces. I’ve tried to ask him, tried to talk to him, tried to understand why he’s so shut off. He gives me nothing. Not a damned thing. So, once again, I’m sitting at home alone. Even the pint of ice cream that’s freezing my lap is not enough to ease the pain in my heart.

Bang, bang, bang.

I lift my head from my position on the lounge, and set the ice cream aside as there is more pounding on the front door. I get up, and with shaky legs I go over and open it to face . . . my Mom. She’s got a tear-streaked face and behind her is Ellie. My mom came out here? Why would she come out here?

“Mom,” I whisper. “I don’t . . .”

“He came here.”

I blink.

“Pierre. He came here.”

Oh shit.

“Momma . . .”

“He came here, he found out about you, and he made you cry!” she shrieks.

Shit.

“I was coming to see you tomorrow, things have been rough, and—”

“How dare he?” she cries. “Katia, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Dammit.

“Come in, Mom.”

They follow me in and I lead them to the kitchen where I begin preparing tea. While it’s boiling, I turn to her. “I’m okay, Mom.”

“I never wanted this for you. I wanted to protect you from him.”

“Protect me?” I ask, confused.

“He’s a bad man, Katia.”

“I figured that out.”

“He deals deep with bad people. Criminals.”

My body flinches.

“To the point where he’s well-known on the east coast. To the point where he has contacts in numerous countries. To the point where I ran when I was pregnant because I found out.”

I take hold of the counter. I’ve never heard this before.

“Mom,” I whisper, my voice too shaky to work properly.

“Your daddy is a bad man, baby.”

My legs begin to tremble.

“He’s also involved with Marcus somehow.”

I have to sit down. Of course I expected that he had involvement with Marcus that went a lot further than I knew about, but I also never believed my husband would deal with people like him.

“You’re wrong,” I whisper. “Marcus isn’t like him.”

“Honey,” she says softly.

“No, Momma. He can’t be. He’d tell me. Marcus works here; he goes away for business and keeps to himself. That’s it.”

Her eyes soften. “Well, he knows your father somehow, which means your father now has access to your life.”

“Marcus won’t let him get to me if I don’t want him to.”

She nods. “I don’t know what Pierre is like now, so I can’t judge completely, but I do know he’s very into his family and now he knows about you, there’s a good chance he won’t stop trying to see you.”

God.

“Maybe he’s not interested.”

That’s a lie. I know he is. I saw it in his eyes.

“Honey,” she coos softly. “How could he not be?”

“Is this going to be a problem?” I whisper.

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me about him, Momma. Please.”

And so she sits down, and she tells me about him. She tells me how they met late in college and how she fell madly in love with him. She also tells me how she knew he was dangerous, but loved him anyway. When she figured out just how dangerous he was, she ran. She didn’t realize she was pregnant right away, but decided even when she did that it would be safer for me if he didn’t know.

“Do you still love him?” I whisper.

She looks away. Something in her eyes flashes. “He’s a bad man.”

That doesn’t answer my question, which tells me she does still care. Probably always has. I understand that; after all, I’m with Marcus, no matter how awful he can be, because I love him so deeply.

I don’t think that will ever change.