I thought I’d feel jealous that someone else is getting time with my son when it should be me. I don’t have that many nights in a week when I can tuck him in, and I cherish each one. So I was confident I’d be jealous, yet as I close my father’s door and listen to Severin and Emett giggling in the room, it’s not jealousy I feel.
It’s longing.
It’s a dream I don’t dare to have coming to life for one evening. Like a teaser that will get you all excited and then you realize it’ll be at least a few years until the movie is out on the screens.
I don’t go into the room to see them. I can’t. It’ll be hard enough to deal with the fallout when Severin leaves and doesn’t come back. I can’t have that picture stuck in my head.
This whole evening was a mistake!
I throw the toys Emett played with back into the basket with a little more force than necessary.
I knew my heart wasn’t lying when it tried to keep us away from him. I knew it, yet I didn’t listen and now we’ll all get to pay the price because a man like Severin Minaev isn’t meant for us. We’re not from the same play field or even continent.
Why did he have that booster seat in his car? For Emett, nonetheless.
The question’s been boggling me ever since I first saw it and as the dinner went on, they just kept piling up.
Why do I catch him watching me like I’m a live grenade one moment and like someone he’s desperate for the next?
Why is he entertaining us with his presence?
Why, every time he’s near, do more walls around my heart crumble?
Why does he sound like he means every word when I know he can’t?
And that comment about his hand on my ass…a mere reminder of his low, growly tone as he voiced it sends a shiver down to my core. I both wanted to forget he ever said it and finish that sentence to see if he meant it. Which is the worst idea I’ve had yet.
But the one that is the loudest of them all… Why does it feel like I know him, and he knows me? And not the surface kind of knowledge but something so deep it sends my heart running for the hills.
I throw the last car into the basket a little harder than intended.
“Shall we move to the pillows? I mean, they make excellent punching bags.”
I jump from my spot on the floor at the sound of his voice behind me.
“Jesus.” I clutch my heart, letting out a heavy breath and instantly, Severin’s smile drops as his whole face grows taut.
Immediately, he falls to his knees in front of me, searching my body for pain or distress. “Are you okay? Did I scare you?” His gaze drops to my chest, just where the tip of my scar tissue is visible, like he knew exactly where to look.
I never told him about my accident or heart surgery, but I guess Electra has a very long tongue that likes to talk.
I pull my shirt up, covering it, and get up from the floor. “No, it’s all right. I just didn’t hear you coming. Emett’s asleep?”
“Yeah, went out like a light switch at the beginning of the story.”
I smile, walking back into the kitchen. “He’s had way too much excitement for one evening. Thank you for doing this for him.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Aurora. It was no hardship.” His jaw tightens and his gaze drops to my chest once more. “Is it your heart? Is it bothering you?”
I look down to find my hand still clutched over it and drop it. “It’s fine. It’s an old scar from a surgery I had a while ago. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“What kind?” Severin asks yet I have a distinct feeling he already knows.
“Didn’t Electra tell you already?”
“No.”
I tilt my head. “Heart transplant. Five years ago.” When I don’t elaborate, he simply keeps staring, and I sigh, turning to the dirty dishes in the sink and start washing them. “I got intoa car accident, in a way, and ended up needing the transplant. I was pregnant with Emett at the time. But it really doesn’t bother me.”
