Page 105 of Worth Risking It

The older man must have said something, for her lips spread into a wide smile, her face practically glowing. Her shoulders drawing toward her ears, she gave a little more gusto against his back, leaning forward to drag her palms down the outsides of his spine.

My smile faltered, my focus on the roundness of her belly. It bumped the man’s head, and they both chuckled as she slowly stood upright.

Dread sank my gut, my eyelids thinning. When I found out she was having a little girl, I was as much relieved as I was gutted. Too many of my fantasies revolved around us having a daughter when we ran away together. Stupid, foolish dreams.

Shaw’s weren’t meant for the kind of life I craved with my kitten. We were machines, protectors, created to create more boys that would grow up to be guards, as well. No love, no peace, no true happiness.

No daughters.

The session over, I pulled a long breath through my nose and turned my profile to the room, staring out the window at the city growing darker. This was fucking agony. All these months, spending every waking minute of the days with Chastity, being by her side, and not being able to touch her how I wanted, how I fucking needed from the pit of my very core.

Watching her grow bigger, beaming with excitement over the baby she was having with Milo. Longing to be someone I could never be.

Their chatter getting louder, I thumbed my nose and gazed at the door as she pushed it all the way open. He flashed a wide smile, bade her farewell, and nodded in my direction.

My sight locked on hers, I jutted my chin while he quickly left the establishment.

Her brows lifted, the exuberance fading from her features. Her attention roaming over my frame, she pouted, sliding her palm down the frame as she pushed off, turned her back to me, and went about cleaning her room.

My boots hit the floor and I stood, rounding the desk to hover in the doorway. Shoving my hands to my pockets, my head tilted, studying her every move. She was so goddamn beautiful, it literally hurt my heart to look at her, knowing I could never touch her again.

How in the hell had so much changed in one year? Why did I fall in love with her? How did she break through my wall? Sometimes, the ache was so unbearable, I found myself wishing I still hated her. If I could rewind time and put those blinders back on, I would.

Anything was better than this torment.

How was I supposed to do this for the next several decades? There was no way, no way in hell I could survive this. It was too hard, too fucking hard!

Done, she tossed the towels in the hamper, huffed, and grabbed her purse, strolling forward. My heartbeat quickening, I peered down my nose as she grew nearer. Not budging, we gazed at one another for a long moment, our breaths shallowing. To my dismay, resentment twisted my gut at the obvious love shining in her chocolate irises.

“Ready?” she whispered, that one word shaking.

For a moment longer, I remained still, memorizing those faint freckles scattered about her rounded cheeks. How in the hell could I wish to have never loved this woman? To have never tasted her kisses, felt her body writhing with mine? To hear her whisper how much she loved me?

No, as painful as this was, I regretted nothing. For the rest of my life, I would cherish the few months she was mine.

Her chin shook a bit, her eyes misting. Clearing my throat, I looked away and stepped aside, letting her walk by. Instinct told me to reach out and grab her, so my arm jerked, ready to do just that. At the last minute, however, my fingers curled to my palm and my hand lowered before she noticed.

Touching her in any way would be a bad idea. Feeling that silky skin, no, it was best to just keep my distance.

We left Wanderlust Masseuse, she locked the door, and we strode down the hallway for the elevator. I jabbed the button and the doors swished open almost immediately. We stepped inside, I hit the button for the lobby, and the slow descent began.

The silence was oppressive, suffocating. I hadn’t just lost the love of my life, but my best friend. No more witty banter, stupid jokes, or laughing. Just palpable pain and longing gazes when no one else was around. Unspoken words of devotion and the anguish of lost dreams. The suffering of absence.

The elevator stopped, opened, and we stepped out. My hands in my pockets, we walked across the lobby and exited the building, darting across the alleyway for the garage.

I had never felt this kind of pain. Not even the bullet to my chest hurt this badly. There was no way I would be able to handle the rest of my life this way. Once Isabelle was born, I would give it five more years. I would teach my son how to do his job, to make that little girl his priority, to hand down my legacy.

Then I would leave him for Frank to raise. I would pack up my things, walk out that house, and use the fake identity I had purchased when Chastity and I were planning our escape. I would start a new life in Spain.

Without my kitten. Without my son. Alone.

The misery would follow me wherever I went. Life without her was a living hell, but at least alone, I could handle the brokenness a little better. Seeing how happy she was with Milo was fucking gutting me on a daily.

I would start over as Michael Farris, but there would be no Rachel. There would never be a Rachel, or anyone ever. No one would ever replace my kitten, they couldn’t even hold a candle against her beauty.

Who knows? Maybe instead of running off to Spain, I would just go out to the little A-frame cabin and put an end to all my sorrows. Anything was better than this.

Chapter 46