Jesus.

His hair is slightly damp, falling over his forehead, and he looks . . . amazing. I swallow, adjusting my top, even though it really doesn’t need adjusting. “Ah, hey,” I mumble, trying to look anywhere but at the amazing body facing me. All that bronze, tight skin. All those muscles. All those tattoos.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “Come in.”

I step past him and freeze as I look around. The house hasn’t changed, not a bit, but it still hurts like it did the day I left it. Seeing it again brings it all back. I clench my eyes shut, take a deep steadying breath, and pull myself together. That was then. This is now. I can’t hold on to the past. It won’t do either of us any good.

“Do you want some wine?” he asks as I enter the kitchen.

“Sure.”

He steps past me and lifts the bottle of red off the table. He pours some into a glass and hands it to me before getting himself a beer. We move to the living area and I stare out the massive windows.

“Why are you here, Katia? I know you wouldn’t just come in here without a reason.”

I take a deep breath, a sip of wine, and then turn to him. God damn him for looking so perfect. He doesn’t make this easy.

“We need to talk about this. About us; about Penny.”

He nods shortly, and leans against the wall, accentuating all that he is with that one simple movement.

“I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to do or where to go, but I think for her sake we need to know.”

“I want Penny in my life, Katia, but I’m not going to bring a fight into it. I just want what is best for her.”

My heart aches at his words, purely because he didn’t say he wanted me in his life, and I never thought that would hurt the way it is.

“I want what’s best for her, too,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “I want you in her life, Marcus. I just don’t know how we’re going to do that.”

He stares at me, really stares. Then in a low rumble, he says, “I grew up in a fucked up household. My mother, my father, my grandfather, the entire lot of them created the monster that broke your heart. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her to live every day watching her parents fight.”

“And that’s what you think will happen?” I rasp. “That we’ll fight?”

“Katia,” he says, his voice almost sympathetic. “We didn’t just cheat on each other, or make a small mistake. I fuckin’ broke you and you tried to have me killed. I’m not sure that’s something that can be overlooked.”

My chest constricts, and I manage to say, “So what do you propose?”

“I don’t know right now. All I know is I want my daughter in a happy world.”

“Do you love me, Marcus?”

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. I watch as he gathers himself, then he says, “Love isn’t enough, Katia. You and I both know that.”

“So that’s it? We separate and put Penny on visitation rights?”

My voice comes out bitter, and I can’t help that. I want to scream, to rip my hair out, to beg. I hate that I feel like that. Marcus broke me. I broke him. We’re a train wreck, and sometimes there just aren’t enough parts in the world to put such a mess back together. I don’t know if he can fix me, and I sure as shit don’t know if I can fix him. He’s right; Penny doesn’t deserve to grow up with parents who resent each other.

Only . . . I don’t resent him. I fucking love him and that’s why this hurts so damned much.

“Katia,” he says in a low, scratchy tone.

I turn. I can’t look at him. I can’t face him. If I do he’ll see the tears. The disappointment. The loss. All of it. All of it, a result of what we created for ourselves. I can never take back what was done and neither can he, but it burns. It fucking burns to my very core. It burns because I want it to be okay. I want him in my life. I want him in hers.

And there’s a good chance that’ll never be.

His fingers curl around my shoulder just as a slow, beautiful song fills the room. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself. His fingers run down my arm, stopping at my hand. He grips it and turns me slowly until I’m facing him. I look up into his eyes and my heart feels as if it’s going to take a leap right out of my chest.

“Don’t think that I wouldn’t fix this if I could.”

If I could.

“But I don’t know if something so toxic can be fixed.”

Toxic.

“If I knew what I know now back then, I would have never let any of this happen. This is on me, Katia. I have to live with not having the family I always wanted because of my selfish, fucked-up heart.”

Family he always wanted.

“You’re fuckin’ precious, Katia. I drove you to consider murder. Do you really believe what we have right here is a healthy, beautiful environment for that little girl?”

I don’t want to admit it. I don’t.

I won’t.

“If that’s what you want,” I whisper, dropping my eyes. “Then it’s settled.”

“Look at me.”

I don’t.

“Katia, fuckin’ look at me.”

I lift my eyes and connect my gaze with his. We stare at each other for so long my legs begin to tremble. I want to say something—I just don’t know what it is I want to say. I agree? I don’t agree? I love you? I fucking hate you? A tear rises up and trickles down my cheek, and he catches it with his thumb before gliding it over my cheek to my bottom lip.