The truth will set you free.
Christ, he wished that was true. Unfortunately, the truth would just hurt her more.
Holden heard her footfalls before he saw her.
When she stepped into the dimly lit kitchen, his breath arrested.
Fucking hell.
Charleigh stopped and stared at him from across the room. Neither said a word as each assessed the other. She looked so damn beautiful. And suddenly Holden was transported back ten years. A bevy of memories assaulted him. How many times had he watched her putzing around their apartment looking exactly like she did right then? Contacts out, glasses on, hair pulled up in a messy knot on top of her head, oversized tee on, and though he couldn’t see them he knew she’d be wearing cotton sleep shorts. Even when it was cold—not that Virginia ever got as cold as it did in Maryland—she always slept in a tee and shorts or nothing at all. If she got cold in the middle of the night, she’d tangle her legs with his and burrow close.
Who had kept Charleigh warm in his absence? Who had she welcomed into her bed? Homicidal rage thrummed through his veins at the very thought of another man touching her. And wasn’t that fucked-up, considering he’d been with other women? Though for him those women meant nothing. They were a warm body and nothing more. That was not Charleigh. Paul notwithstanding, she was not a one-night-stand type of woman—and she’d married the motherfucker, so she really wasn’t the type of woman to sleep with a man and walk away. Which meant anyone she’d had in the years between meant she’d cared for them, maybe even loved them. Had they met Faith? Did the little girl talk to them about school? Did they make her pancakes in the morning? The urge to ask Charleigh for a list of the men she’d been with so he could track them down and kick their asses was strong. The need to erase both of their pasts hit him hard.
“We need to talk.” Charleigh broke the silence.
He whole-heartedly agreed but was having a hard time vocalizing his agreement. He was too angry to speak. Royally pissed at himself for what he’d done, seriously fucking pissed at Paul, mad at the universe for taking away his ability to give his woman what she wanted, and now he was irate at the thought of her sharing her bed with some bastard.
“Holden?” she snapped.
He cleared his throat and nodded.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Me and Faith are leaving in the morning and going to Kennedy’s.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? You don’t have a say.”
“I sure as fuck do.”
Charleigh’s features turned to stone and she stomped farther into the room.
“No, Holden, you don’t. You have no say. And this shit you pulled bringing us here…no, let’s back up, the shit you pulled playing nice with Faith was unbelievably uncool. But you making my daughter promises you’re not going to keep is beyond fucked. You wanna jack me around, fine, go ahead. I know you think I deserve it after what I did to you, but don’t you dare bring my child into your games.”
There was no missing Charleigh’s righteous indignation, but it was unwarranted and it was high time they got a few things straight.
“I’m not playing games,” he started and stood, “and I’m not jacking you around.”
Pain washed over her pretty face. He fought the need to go to her and pull her into his arms. He figured he had one shot at getting this right, one chance to start to heal the breach he’d created, and touching her would only fuel her outrage.
“You’ve made it clear you hate me,” Charleigh said with a hitch in her voice. “Painfully clear, Holden. I moved here…never mind why I came—”
“I know why you moved here, Leigh-Leigh,” he cut her off. “And I don’t hate you.” Holden stepped around the table. His heart was hammering in his chest. It was time to come clean. Time to put all his cards on the table and stop hiding like a pussy.
“Could’ve fooled me,” she mumbled.
“I tried,” he admitted. “I tried so fucking hard to hate you.” Charleigh paled and stepped back and he knew before he was done he was going to wreck her if that one small admission made her look like he’d sucker-punched her. “You wanna know why I went to your wedding? Because I thought watching you vow your life to another man would make me stop loving you. I thought that when I heard you say the words to Paul I desperately wanted you to say to me, I would finally hate your guts. But it didn’t work. I hated that prick with everything I am but I couldn’t stop loving you. I went to two barbeques at your house for the same reason. I thought seeing you with him would help me get over you. Seeing you pregnant with his child would finally kill what I felt for you. It killed all right, it killed so fucking bad, I broke. He had everything I loved. He had you and his baby and the life I wanted with you. He had everything and I had not a goddamn single thing that was worth a damn.” Holden stopped and tried to gather his composure, but now that the words were flowing he couldn’t stop them.
Good or bad, he had to get them out—purge the poison that had been eating at his innards for so long he couldn’t remember what it was like to breathe clean. Before he could
