Chapter 36

FREYA

“Your mom and I are going to talk.”

Carlos nodded, leading Gia and the dogs to her room. We stood in silence until their footsteps faded down the hall.

“Why would you do that?” Freya’s incredulous tone grated on my nerves. She looked genuinely lost, as if the possibility of my actions being true hadn't occurred to her. “You know she’s going to cling to every word. Why tell her all that when it’s not true?”

My jaw clenched. The thought of Freya leaving me violently twisted my insides. It wouldn't happen. I wouldn't allow it.

“What’s not true?” Freya asked.

Miraculously, my voice remained calm, though the underlying tension was probably evident in my expression, judging by Freya’s swallowed breath.

“We are not staying here permanently. As soon as I find a place, we’re moving out.”

Even though her words lacked the conviction they’d held seconds before, they still burned. I had the urge to force her to reconsider, but she wasn't leaving.

“The fuck you are!” I hissed.

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Excused. Gia is staying with me.” And so are you. But I couldn't say that. I didn't yet have a place to demand it!

“Oh God! I’m not trying to take her away from you. I wanted to tell her everything, didn’t I?”

She thought that was the issue. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh. This woman had no idea why I wouldn’t let go. She probably saw me only as Gia's father, while I saw her as so much more. I had been reduced to a possessive, obsessive man. So fucking pathetic!

“Look, we have to come to an arrangement if we’re to co-parent Gia.” My molars ground together as I glared at her.

“And what arrangement will that be? I’m not dividing days of the week. Gia stays with both her parents. Every single day.”

“You can’t decide that!” She threw her hands up, a familiar expression of frustration. I felt it too—the frustration of hiding my true feelings for her, of pretending I didn’t need her more than my morning coffee. Frustration was my middle name.

“I can’t, huh?” I tilted my head, watching her swallow. Her eyes flicked sideways, as if searching for an escape route.

FUCK!

I was suddenly reminded of Freya’s past trauma, and I felt like a complete asshole. She’d been here, before a much larger man who couldn't control his anger. I wouldn't hurt her. I’d rather shoot myself than lay a hand on her. But her trauma response didn't know that.

“Fuck! I’m so fucking sorry!” I dragged a hand down my face. When I looked up, she was staring at me, explicitly confused. “I will never hurt you, okay? You never have to be afraid of that.”

Her eyes softened. These two words, a soft whisper, brought relief and a sense of achievement. I would be devastated if the woman I loved didn’t feel safe with me.

Chapter 36

A sharp ring cut through the silence. I pulled out my phone. The name on the screen set my lips in a hard line.

An exhale reached my ear before a familiar voice: “Could you be any colder towards your mother?” It was a phone call with my mother.

“I’m listening.” I would rather not. The matter with Freya was unresolved; that concerned me far more.

“Aiden, how many times have I asked you to come home for dinner?”

Why didn’t I see this coming? My mind was preoccupied. Why the fuck did I even answer? Again, I wasn’t thinking clearly!

I sighed. “More times than I can remember. And every time I’ve told you I don’t give a shit about your family dinner.”

A dramatic gasp. “Aiden, language!”

I rolled my eyes. “Goodnight, Mother,” I muttered, hanging up.

“That was incredibly rude,” Freya said, disapproval coating her voice. I stared at her.

“Don’t judge when you don’t know shit,” I snapped. Judging by Freya’s wince, it was harsher than intended.

“I’m not judging you,” she mumbled. “It’s just… at least your mother wants you in her life.”

Her sadness made me want to forget my own issues and understand her past. What had her family done? Why wasn't she in contact with them?

“Some people don’t even get that. Mine don’t want anything to do with me.” Her shaky breath tempted me to abandon my morals and delve into her past. I wanted to know what caused her sadness, but I couldn't.

Freya was unaware of my internal debate about whether to cross a moral boundary that existed solely because of her concerns. Otherwise, it had always been a gray area.

“Look, I’m sorry if I’m interfering. It’s just… even though I’d never go back to my parents…” She chuckled awkwardly. “Not that they want me, but I wonder what it feels like to have a family that wants you. Despite your differences, your mother wants to spend time with you; she’s asking for normal things, like family dinner.”

I considered her words. She’d accept even the smallest crumbs. She thought it acceptable to overlook mistreatment for the sake of family. Growing up in a toxic household does that to you. Your self-worth diminishes until you snap. I wondered what had been Freya's breaking point.

My curiosity would have to wait until she felt comfortable sharing.

I exhaled. Freya thought it was a simple disagreement, a petty grudge, something solvable with steak and wine. I scoffed. What a joke!

I wasn’t ready to open up. I wasn’t ready to tell her that she was trying to repair truly severed bonds. Instead, I went to my room and called it a night.