Chapter 45: Farya

The ride back was dead silent. Going there was incredibly stupid. Why did I do it? Let's just say Cillian and Fr. [presumably a Father/priest] talked me into it. Fucking stupid! If I hadn't caved, Gia and Freya would have been spared today's humiliation.

I stood by my daughter's bedroom door, hidden from view, while Freya got her ready for bed.

"Mommy!" she called once she was tucked in.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Will Daddy really marry that woman?" Her voice was choked with emotion. All because of him. I should have slammed my father's head on the table the second marriage was mentioned.

Freya sighed and sat beside her. "I don't know, baby. Maybe he will."

What the fuck! What would it take to make her understand I'm not interested in anyone else?

Tell her, my mind taunted. I'd given her space, comfort, even avoided baiting her—now I needed to tell her the truth.

"But he promised! He promised we'd be a family. He promised me!" Gia's voice was wobbly; she was on the verge of tears. My little princess was hurting.

"Tell him not to, Mommy! Please tell him not to marry her!"

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay? Now it's time for bed." Just as Freya stood, Gia reached for her. She sniffled.

"Sweetheart, stop crying. Everything will be alright. Go to sleep." It took fifteen more minutes of coaxing before she finally fell asleep. After kissing her forehead, Freya turned off the lights and left.

Her eyes hardened the moment they fell on me.

"You're going to fix this. You messed it up," she gritted, then turned and left.

I followed her to her room. "I messed it up?!" What the hell was my fault? Yes, taking them to meet my family was my fault, but she had insisted. She wasn't talking about that. I couldn't figure out what else it was.

She abruptly turned, looking at me incredulously. "You're asking?"

"Yes! What the hell did I do?!"

Freya scoffed, shaking her head dismissively. "You know what? I don't—I don't care. Gia's a child. She'll get over it." She darted into the closet and didn't emerge for several minutes.

I froze when she came out with a bag. My back stiffened as she grabbed her charger from the nightstand.

"What are you doing?" My voice was unnervingly calm.

"Packing a bag," she tossed over her shoulder, without looking back.

"I can see that. Why the hell are you packing a bag?"

"I'm staying with Reyna for a few days while I figure things out." I inhaled sharply. No, she's not!

"You're not moving out," I stated. She paused, turning to glare at me.

"I am," she gritted, resuming packing. "I should have moved out long ago. Better late than never. At least I won't be the gold digger who ruins your marriage with your girlfriend or whatever."

"Freya, stop." I strode over, taking her forearm. She shoved my hand away, until I grabbed both wrists and turned her around.

"Just stop, damn it!"

She stopped. If a look could kill, I'd be dead. She yanked her hands free and paced.

Chapter 45 (continued)

Freya paced by the window, frustration radiating from her. "You lied to her."

"You gave Gia hope where there wasn't any."

"I never lied to her, and I certainly never gave her false hope." It was difficult to keep my voice down; she was accusing me without giving me a chance to explain.

"You painted a picture of a happy family! You're so good at it, anyone would believe you. You gave her the idea we'd be together, when you clearly have a girlfriend!" Her accusatory gaze burned into me.

I closed my eyes and breathed. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Freya chuckled—a humorless sound. "Oh, that's definitely not what I heard."

"Erica is not my girlfriend."

"Yeah, whatever." Her dismissive shake of the head struck me. She seemed upset for a reason other than the one she was giving.

"What are you really angry about?" I moved closer, causing her to take a step back. "What are you doing?" she muttered cautiously, backing away further. This continued until she was against the wall, and I was invading her space.

"Tell me what makes you so angry. That I promised Gia something I intend to keep, or the fact that you think I have a girlfriend?"

Freya's chest rose and fell, her eyes blazing. She took a sharp breath.

"I don't—I don't care if you have a girlfriend! Why should I? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" It sounded defensive and fake. I'd caught her. She was jealous of Erica; she hated that I supposedly had a girlfriend.

Strange satisfaction filled me. This felt more significant than any other milestone in my life. Freya was more important than any other remarkable moment.

I put my hand against the wall, effectively caging her. I closed the distance, until the familiar bittersweet smell of coffee filled my senses, until I could see the flecks of blue in her green eyes, until everything else faded away. She was beautiful, even up close—the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen.

The proximity affected Freya; her eyes lost some of their anger, replaced by lust.

"You don't care," I rasped, my eyes tracing her throat. I watched her tongue wet her lips.

"No," she said, but her voice lacked conviction. She probably didn't believe it herself, but she was too stubborn to admit the truth.

She furrowed her brow, about to offer another defensive lie. But before she could, I kissed her.

[AD]