"Please.” Aiden’s voice is rough. "I just want to talk to her."
Cristiano manages to get an incensed Katya behind him. “Look, man, it’s late, how about?—”
“Who the fuck are you?” I hear the snap in Aiden’s voice.
I close my eyes, knowing I have to get up and deal with him, be an adult.
But I don’t wanna!Even to myself, I sound like one of my school kids.
“He’s the gigolo we hired to pleasure us tonight,” Katya retorts with such sincerity that I can’t help but grin.
Even Aiden doesn’t buy that. “Look?—”
“I'm the man your wife stayed with after she left your dumb ass.” Cristiano is standing tall, his arms folded, right in front of Katya. My two sentinels.
“Mia,” Aiden calls out.
“Let him in, K.” I sit up on the couch, and tie my hair, which has come loose, back into a rough ponytail.
Aiden is in his favorite Max Mara camel cashmere coat, snowflakes melting on his shoulders. He looks...wrecked. And still stupidly handsome. I hate that about him.
We all stare at each other for a moment.
“Let’s make a bed for you, Cris,” Katya mutters and then glares at Aiden. “You’re the asshole who just ruined our party.”
They both leave.
Aiden continues to stand by the door. I let him. He isn’t welcome here.
He watches me for a second, then tries a smile. "Happy New Year."
I scoff. "Why aren’t you at the Winter Gala or whatever ridiculous circus your parents throw? You know, the one with fifty people who used to look at me like I snuck in through the servant’s entrance?"
His smile fades. "I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with you."
“Why the fuck would you want to do that?”
He winces. It feels good to see him respond to my swearing.
Brace yourself, Mr. Winter, there are more four-lettered words on their way.
“I…was looking for you and finally I saw the lights up here and…I was hoping you’d be….”
He takes a deep breath and then, as if centering himself, closes the door behind him. He takes his coat off and hangs it on one of the coat hooks by the door.
“How are you?” He walks into the living room, andsits across from me on the love seat that Cristiano had been leaning against.
“Peachy. You?”
“I…I couldn’t find you. I didn’t know where you were and?—"
"Congratulations. You found me,” I cut him off. “What do you want, Aiden?”
He licks his lips, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
He’s so beautiful, my husband. His dark, tousled hair. Those beautiful blue eyes. Cheekbones that can cut glass. Lips that kiss so wonderfully.
"I’m sorry, Mia. I know I’ve said it already, but?—"
