“I want to. This is my first grandchild, Patrick, and I want to celebrate you and your Tamara.”
I swipe at my face, tears clinging to my eyelashes as I nod. “I’d love that. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Us too, Pat. See you in a few days.”
We say our goodbyes and I stand in the middle of the grassy area we use for outdoor workouts and breathe heavily. In all of the chaos of getting Tamara to trust me again, stressing about this baby and my fucking head, telling my parents slipped my mind. I will never not feel guilty about it, and they’re more understanding than I deserve.
I don’t even know how many hours we ran the training exercise for, but by the time I get home, I’m so tired, I want to do nothing but sleep. Tamara’s car was in her spot when I pulled my bike in, and I’m excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the evening cuddling with her.
Smiling, I take the stairs up to our floor and frown at the preppy looking asshole standing at the front door. His white polo is perfectly ironed, as are his trousers. His short hair is coiffed and his face is smooth, making me wonder how much time he spends in front of a mirror. I already don’t like him and I don’t know who he is.
Twirling my keys, I get his attention. “Can I help you?”
“Here to see someone.”
“Do you plan on knocking or ringing the bell?”
“Thought I could let myself in, but she changed the locks.”
Ah, the infernal ex. “Then she probably doesn’t want you here, right?” I barely keep the condescension out of my voice.
“Who the fuck are you, man?” he asks.
I’m actually impressed my height and stature don’t scare him. Most people cower.
“I live here and I think you should leave.”
He scoffs and looks me over. I smirk. He can definitely tell I’m far superior to him in every way, even if he won’t admit it. I step around him and unlock the door. He scowls and moves forward, but stops when I block his way.
“Trick, that you?”
“Yeah, baby. Sorry I’m late.”
I look over my shoulder, my heart pounding at her smile. “Why are you standing in the doorwa—” The word freezes on her tongue as I step aside to reveal the idiot. “Kabir?”
Thirty-Three. You’re still the one
Tamara
I hear the door open and I’m like Pavlov’s dog, rushing to jump Patrick’s bones. Except, Kabir stands outside, his path blocked by the man I love. My stomach twists and I suck in a sharp breath of air as I cover my bump. It’s been eight months since I’ve seen my ex and the panic he triggers in my chest surprises me. I stumble back two steps and Patrick’s eyebrows dip as he watches me, concern laced through every inch of his face. I shake my head and his scowl deepens, until we’re both rudely reminded of why I’m feeling this way.
“Look at you, Tammy. So beautiful. You’re glowing.”
I blink, frowning at the joy on Kabir’s face. Dr. Sunita and I never talked about how he could become a trigger—especially when I’m pregnant—because we never thought he’d resurface.
“What are you doing here?” The words come out scratchy and Patrick’s handsome face twists in frustration. He gets it.
“I wanted to—can you ask your new roommate to let me through, please?”
Patrick scoffs. A roommate he is not. I nod when he meets my eyes and with a heavy sigh, he steps aside to let Kabir in. My ex looks around the apartment, then starts towards me. I take another step back, my hands soothing over my belly. Don’t worry, baby, I won’t let this man hurt you. Patrick closes the door and sets his things in their usual place. He keeps an eye on Kabir too, watching his every move and as he gets closer to me, Patrick moves too.
On the hockey pitch, I’m impressed by the fluidity of his movements, especially for someone so large. He demonstrates that right now and I smile. Except Kabir thinks the smile is for him and his face lights up. I roll my lips inward and spread my feet apart to steady myself.
Patrick comes up behind me, the heat of his body pressing against my back. “Whatever you have to say to her, you can do it from there.”
“Bro, who the fuck are you?” There’s that familiar rage and displeasure he used to turn on me when things weren’t going his way.
“What do you want, Kabir?” I ask, exasperated by this demonstration. I love seeing Patrick mark his territory, but it’s also very exhausting.
