Page 34 of Reckless Love

Years ago, I never cared if she was with someone else. I mean, I didn’t like it, but I was confident that no matter who she was with, she’d come back to me eventually. Anyone else was a blip, as insignificant as stubbing a toe. Her pattern was so well established, it was comical when she tried to make me jealous. Do your worst, Ava, I used to think. You’ll be back in my bed by the end of the week. Giving her that sexual freedom made me feel better about how early our relationship started and eased my guilt about my desire to keep her mine in all the ways that truly mattered.

I hate that she’s with Raul. That he’s her husband, a title I wanted so fucking badly and that my heart thought would be mine. The fact that I have to keep reminding myself he exists to avoid doing something stupid, something familiar, causes my stomach to sour even more.

She’s married. She’s married. She’s married. She chose this life. With him.

She wanted this house, her successful company, and a man like Raul. That’s the truth.

Before I see her, I hear the creak of the stairs, and I steel myself to tell her no. The longer I let myself soak in her undivided attention, the worse it’ll be when her husband returns. This pattern, these moments in the house, are fleeting. Getting close to her changes nothing. She wanted the life. She’s not leaving him even if she still wants to fuck me.

Maybe their marriage allows that. I’m not asking. Married women aren’t for me. Never have been. Never will be.

Even if I changed my mind, she’s my employer, and her husband is an asshole. Messy. Really fucking messy.

“Can you teach me to play chess?” she asks as she descends the stairs, her hand trailing along the ornate railing.

“That’s what you want to do tonight?” My resolve evaporates at the mere sight of her. I’m so fucking doomed. Where she’s concerned, my willpower is beyond repair. The scraps she feeds me have always been better than someone else’s five-star meal.

“My parents didn’t play games with us. Sometimes Nathaniel or Sawyer would, but it wasn’t something we did a lot. It was fun trying to teach Landon how to play checkers yesterday.”

“I would have thought you’d find it frustrating.” I take the security unit off the wall and follow her into the main living room.

She laughs and then throws me a grin over her shoulder. God, she’s beautiful.

“Are you trying to say I don’t have any patience?”

“Never used to,” I say.

“Surprised me too,” she admits. “Honestly, that’s been the whole thing about being a mom, though. I still don’t love other people’s kids, but I can’t believe how much I love my own.” She presses a palm to her chest. “It’s unreal.”

The chessboard is already out, but it’s not set up. I guess she knew I’d say yes. A foregone conclusion.

“You’re a good mom.” My voice is gruff.

We’re at the table, and she steps close to me. Vanilla and lilies waft toward me, and I recognize the Reckless scent from the hours I’ve spent in the building. But it’s never smelled as good as it does right now.

“You think I’m a good mom?” she whispers.

“You must know you are.”

“No one’s ever told me.”

The fact that her husband, who seems to have left most of the child raising to her, has never given her a pat on the back—at the very least—for her efforts makes my throat tight with emotion. Even putting her body through pregnancy and childbirth to have my child would have made me endlessly grateful. I’d have told her every day, every chance I could.

“Having Landon has made me realize my mom wasn’t so great.” She plucks a chess piece from the table, toying with it. “And I feel bad for thinking that because I know parenting is not easy. That it’s probably easier to fuck up than it is to get it right. Five kids—what are the chances you make the right calls for all of them? Any of them?”

“Your mom is a complicated woman,” I say. “It doesn’t seem like you’re alone in thinking she could have been better.” I try to keep my voice gentle.

“I’m the only one still speaking to her,” she admits, even though I already know.

“She’s not sick anymore?”

“Her kidneys are currently functioning properly. The chemo-type treatment they did seems to have kicked them back into working right. So she doesn’t need my kidney. Nathaniel says he wouldn’t have given her his, but I don’t know… He’s got those martyr tendencies.”

“Why are you close with Celia?” That’s been the biggest surprise since my return.

“We’re not that close, not really. We’re just not estranged.” She runs her fingers along her forehead, clearly thinking. “I never thought I’d be the last one standing. Mom and I fought a lot when I was younger.” She gives me a wry smile. “Which you know.”

“Even if you’re not close, you’re definitely closer.”