Chapter 33 It was late when I knocked on Bea's door, but it didn't take her long to answer. She'd been waiting for me. She opened it wide, wordlessly stepping aside to allow me in. I had seen this woman in so many iterations. Angry. Turned on. Amused. Happy. But this? The utter defeat weighing her down from every angle was brand new, and it wasn't right. It was unnatural on her. Did not belong. "How's Lacey doing?" she asked. Lacey had pleaded for Bea to stay at the hospital with her, so she had. Through X-rays, talks with a specialist, and casting, Bea had stuck in there. My kids had leaned hard on her, and she'd let them without question. If it had made her uncomfortable, she'd hidden it well. She'd only been able to break away when we'd arrived home, with promises to check on Lacey soon. "Better than the rest of us," I said, fingers already fidgeting with the titanium ring on my index finger, thumb brushing over the ridged engraving. "She's excited to show off her cast at school tomorrow." Bea had been the first to sign it. Her name, written in curling loops, with a tiny bumblebee doodle beside it. Lacey had made sure none of us had signed within three inches of it. With a nod, Bea turned and walked toward the kitchen without looking back. I followed her, stopping in the doorway. She moved mechanically, filling a kettle with water and setting it on the stove, her back ramrod straight. She turned the burner on, and only then did she face me. "How could you not tell me?" she whispered. "I was going to. Tonight. That's what I was coming over to talk to you about." I'd planned it. Scripted it. Rehearsed it between brushing Lacey's hair this morning and tying Tally's shoes. Between lines of code and meetings with my programming teams. She reached for the counter, her fingers curling around the edge. "It's my fault for never asking what had happened to Tia's kids." Her eyes flicked to mine. "Would you have told me earlier if I'd asked directly?" "Yes." I nodded sharply. "None of this is your fault. It's mine. I wanted...I didn't plan for you to get to know them before I told you. I should have stepped in. I made the wrong decision. They liked you, and I'd hoped-" "To manipulate me?" "No. Absolutely not." I took a step forward, then stopped, fists clenched at my sides to keep myself from touching her. The wrong word, the wrong tone, and I'd lose her. I may have already lost her. But she'd let me inside. She hadn't told me to go. There was a chance I could fix this. "Then why?" she asked, almost begging. She needed me to make it make sense. I should have had the words. I'd had weeks to come up with an explanation far better than 'I'm willing to do anything to keep you,' but that was what it came down to. My plans all had one goal: Beatrice Novak. In my mind, it was simple. But I had to give her more than that. "I started on my back foot with you and had so much to make up for. I'd wanted us to get right with each other before I threw in complications." Bea didn't move, didn't speak. She just watched me with a new wariness that cut me to the bone. "I'm not their father," I went on. "But I'm everything else. Tia trusted me with them. I don't know why. Half the time, I'm not sure I'm right for the job, but they're my world now. We were all drowning when Tia died, and I've spent two years clawing us back to the surface. That's why I disappeared from your life. I had to focus on them-" "I would never begrudge you any of that. Of course you had to give them your all." Memories rose to the surface of Lacey crying through the night, Talon asking question after question I couldn't answer, Scarlet having outbursts of anger she had every right to. Because life wasn't fair and her mother should have been alive. Locking myself in my bedroom and blindly staring at a wall when my own grief and new upside-down world overwhelmed me. The weight of sound. The emotional noise. Therapy helped, but it was time that healed us. The kids saw they still had me and their grandfather. They could trust we were going to stick. And I'd accepted the changes in my life. Learned how to manage my company and family without going into shutdown mode every day. "Everything changed. One heartbeat to the next, I became theirs. I had to build our life from the ground up, and we've made a good life. I was going to come for you. Paul sped up my timeline by a couple months when he hired you unexpectedly, but I'd had it all planned out, with the house-" "You do know it's crazy you bought the house across the street from mine, don't you?" she said, finally showing a flicker of the sassy, sarcastic, blunt Beatrice who routinely cut me off at the knees. The kettle whistled, and she swiveled away from me, opening a cabinet to pull out a mug, then another for a box of tea. I watched her steep her tea bag, waiting for her attention before speaking again. Steam rose from the mug as she lifted a brow. "It's crazy, Salvatore." I nodded. "You're probably right. On the outside, it looks like an insane decision. But we needed a home that fit better, and the one I found happened to be close to you. I don't make decisions without thorough consideration. I wouldn't have dragged my kids along with me if I hadn't thought they'd be happy here, and they are. They love the house...and the neighbors." "Crazy," she muttered. "Maybe. But I stand by it. The other choices I made? I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I should have told you when I explained what had happened to Tia." "You should have," she agreed. She wasn't giving me an inch, and I needed a mile. "But I didn't," I said, my voice low. "This is where I admit I was selfish. Greedy for more time with you. Bea, I've never had anything like this. You know I don't connect with people easily, and I have never wanted someone the way I want you." Her eyes shimmered, but she didn't look away. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about tonight. I wasn't going to keep it from you any longer. You deserved to know and have the choice of whether to move forward with me. All my planning, and I can't-" I swallowed hard around the truth I hated. "I can't control your reaction. I can't make you want to take a risk on me, knowing what I come with." She shook her head. "I told you I don't want children." "I haven't forgotten. I don't expect you to be their mother. They had a great one, and between my dad and me, they have two parents." I tucked my hands in my pockets. "We can take it slow. We can start over. It's up to you now." Bea wrapped her fingers around her steaming mug, her eyes cast downward. Silence stretched tight between us. "I can forgive you for being Anthony," she said finally, the words a sharp turn I hadn't seen coming. My head snapped up. "You... what?" Her smile was faint, tired. "I figured it out last week. The app was on your phone, and then I saw you in the limo. I added everything up." "Ten p.m. soup," I murmured. "You were fucking with me. On purpose." She held her fingers an inch apart. "A little bit." Then she smacked her forehead. "Anthony. Your dad's name is Tony. It was so obvious." "It's my middle name too." I shoved my fingers through my hair. "Christ. I have a lot to explain." "No kidding. I thought that was your big secret. I had already worked through it on my own and decided it was almost...sweet. You've done a lot for me. More than I know, probably. Though I'm still not sure why you'd want to." "That answer is simple. When we met, I was drawn to you because you made me feel good. I was at ease and able to be myself around you, which is more rare than I can put into words." I scoffed at my understatement. The way I'd felt around Bea from the start had been unprecedented. A revelation. Like I'd gone a lifetime as an alien crash-landed on earth and had finally met another being from my home planet. I took a half step closer. "That changed, though. When I sent you the app, I didn't know how addicted I would become to making you feel good. I still want that, Beatrice. I need it." Her breath caught, and she closed her eyes. "I believe you." Hope flared, but it was premature. "I don't know if I can get past this," she said. "This isn't just about you and me anymore. You made me part of something without telling me what it was. That wasn't fair, and I don't know if we can come back from this. Or if I want to." "Or if I want to." This wasn't only about me omitting the truth. When it came down to it, I had kids, and Bea had chosen to be child-free. "We're at an impasse," I said, trying to anchor myself to logic, "but I think we can find a way around it. If you're willing." She didn't speak, but her eyes stayed on mine. Still listening. Still here. "You can take space," I offered. "The kids don't have to be involved. This can just be you and me, starting over. A clean slate where everything is on the table. We'll go back to the beginning. Whatever pace makes sense." A shadow passed across her face. "We can't compartmentalize our relationship. That's not how life works." "I know," I said quickly. "I do. But this isn't about hiding anything anymore. It's about giving you breathing room. Whatever you need to come around." She folded her arms over her chest, wrapping herself up like armor. Her jaw trembled. Just once. "I don't think I can," she rasped. "I know you can." Panic slithered in my gut, wrapping around tight. I spoke faster than I could think. "This will work. You'll see. Give us a chance-" A single word fell like ice between us. "Antarctica." My chest caved inward. The safe word. The one we'd chosen when the possibility of what lay ahead had been shiny and bright. A word that meant stop. No further. A word I never thought she would have to use with me. I nodded, a slow, careful dip of my chin. Nausea climbed up my throat with jagged claws. "Okay," I said hoarsely. "I'll go." I didn't try to touch her or continue pleading my case. A safe word wasn't the start of a negotiation. It was a full stop. She was done. I had to be too. Every step I took toward the door was another mile. My hand shook as I opened it, the finality hitting me all at once. Just before I stepped out, I looked over my shoulder. Bea had followed me out of the kitchen, stopping a few feet away, her mug clutched in both hands. "I'm not going away, Beatrice. Not for good. But I'll give you as much space as you need." She didn't answer, but she didn't slam the door behind me either, so I took it as a positive sign. As I trudged across the street, feeling her eyes on my back the whole way, I allowed myself to believe this wasn't over. I was down, but I wasn't out. Not yet. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!