Chapter 12
After dinner, they took their wine glasses out to the balcony. Roman turned on the heat lamp, but it was still chilly, so
he used the cold as an excuse to put his arms around Ava while she gazed at the view of the city and the Hudson River.
They knew why they were there, and while he adored getting her naked, he also liked these companionable moments. He wasn’t
working an event, Ava wasn’t one of Nigella’s clients, and there were no expectations other than enjoying each other’s company
for the time they were together. Whether that looked like sex or a quiet interlude like this, he was happy to indulge in either.
He was happy to indulge her .
Receiving her text after weeks of radio silence had been a balm to his soul after an extremely difficult day at the office.
Yes, it had required some finagling to free up his schedule, but after their night together the previous month, when he’d
been so worried about taking time off, everything had been... fine. Not a single thing had exploded in his absence.
Which made him wonder if all the calls and meetings and business dinners were really as necessary as he thought they were.
So this time, when Ava had reached out, he’d replied immediately, ready to drop everything to see her. It was killing him
to stick to her edict of “no communication” aside from what she initiated. He wanted more.
Starting with the reason for her missive tonight.
“Ava?” He waited until she looked at him. “What happened this time?”
Her face scrunched. “What do you mean?”
He raised his brows meaningfully. “You only text me when something’s happened.”
He saw the moment when she realized what he meant. Biting her lip, she looked away. There was a long pause before she spoke.
“My anniversary.”
The blast of sympathy was like a kick to the solar plexus, flooding him with compassion for this woman. Did she have no one
else to turn to in these moments?
It didn’t matter. He was honored that she was here. Maybe he was just a coping mechanism for her, but he could also understand
that she’d want some area of her life where she had control.
“Ava,” he began, tenderness in his voice, but she held up a hand.
“Don’t,” she said, not meeting his gaze. “Don’t pity me. I’m fine.”
So she said. Still, he set their glasses aside on the low table and folded her into his arms.
She clutched him around the waist and let out a long sigh, deflating against his chest.
“Thank you for being here,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“You don’t have to be.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and tucked her face into his collar, then jolted suddenly and pulled back.
“Shoot, I’m probably getting lipstick on your shirt—which is such a cliché, I can’t even stand it. I’ll pay for dry—”
He cupped the nape of her neck and yanked her back into his embrace. His chest shook as he chuckled softly.
“I’m proud to have your lipstick on my collar,” he said solemnly, making her smile.
“Hush,” she said. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m serious.” He dipped his head to look at her. “But I think I deserve a little background information.”
Her hazel eyes turned wary. “Like what?”
His jaw worked as he tried to figure out how to ask the question that had haunted him since their first night together. “Ava,
did he... did he hurt you?”
She sighed and clutched his lapels. “My mother asked the same thing, the night he left me. But no, he never hurt me. Just
my heart.”
He shut his eyes, holding her tighter. “That’s not nothing.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “You know how when something big happens, you remember the weirdest details?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Well, the part that always stays with me... is that he left his shoes on when he came home.”
“Ah.” Roman imagined her home was spotless, definitely a no-shoes zone.
“I noticed it, but I was distracted by him throwing his jacket—the one he wore on the subway —over the armchair, something I’d repeatedly asked him not to do.”
“Disgusting,” Roman murmured, thinking about how his mom used to respond when he sat on his bed in “outside clothes.”
“So that’s what I was thinking about,” Ava continued. “I was making a mental note to hang his jacket in the closet, like I
always did after he tossed it where it didn’t belong.”
She released him and paced a few feet away, hugging herself with her arms. Her curls fell around her shoulders in perfect
spirals. So pretty, and so remote. Like she was a million miles away. Her voice was hollow when she spoke again. “And then
he said he wanted to talk about something.”
Roman’s eyebrows popped up. “Uh-oh.”
“Yeah, uh-oh. It put me on high alert. Had he lost his job? Was someone sick? Had someone died ?” She shook her head. “But it wasn’t any of those things. He just wanted a divorce.”
His heart twisted, both at the thought of someone hurting her that way, and at the dispassionate way she recounted the events,
like she could have been talking about getting caught without an umbrella during a surprise rain shower. “That must have been
devastating.”
She didn’t answer, just rested her hands on the railing and gazed out at the city. “I asked if there was someone else, because
it was the only thing that made sense to me in the moment. And you know what the bastard did?”
He loved the fire that infused her voice when she said “bastard.” “What did he do?”
“He said, ‘No, babe. There’s no one else.’” She made a sound of disgust, her lip curling. “‘Babe.’ The absolute nerve, to
call me ‘babe’ while ruining my life.”
Roman wasn’t particularly vengeful, but he was creative. He could think of a few nonviolent ways to ruin Hector’s life. Like making political donations with the guy’s phone number so he’d be besieged by campaign texts for the rest of his days.
“Note to self,” Roman murmured. “Never call Ava ‘babe.’”
She shot him an amused look, but he noticed the way her fingers curled into tight fists, like they were cold. Roman shrugged
out of his suit jacket and walked up behind her to drop it over her shoulders. Her smile was grateful, and he caught the way
she inhaled deeply. Breathing him in? He liked that idea.
When she continued, it came out quieter, like she was running out of steam. “We had a plan. And even when it changed, I never
envisioned a future that didn’t have him in it.”
Roman ached to take her in his arms, but he held back, giving her room to finish. “What did you do?”
“What I always do. I tried to fix it.” She shrugged and cast her gaze toward the dark sky. “But he’d already made his decision.
A decision that didn’t include me, even though it affected me. He looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘I don’t want to be
married to you anymore.’ And then he left.”
Her voice was bleak, but not fragile. She’d been hurt horribly, but she was strong.
And Roman was humbled that she’d gifted him with this much of herself.
He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands.
“He was a fool,” he said quietly, when what he really meant was, He was a fucking idiot who never deserved you .
She sighed and wrapped her cold fingers around his wrists. “I figured that out a little too late.”
“Come inside. Let me show you how much of a treasure you are.”
“Don’t say things like that,” she mumbled, but she let him take her hand and lead her back into the suite.
“Why not?”
Her cheeks were red, and he didn’t think it was only from the cold. “I’ll start to believe you.”
“Ah. Can’t have that, can we?”
His light tone masked simmering anger. The underlying pain in Ava’s words as she recounted the memory had unleashed a torrent
of fury inside him toward the man who’d broken her heart and made her think she wasn’t perfect exactly as she was.
He hoped Hector never had a good night’s sleep for the rest of his life.
When the balcony door shut behind them, Roman tugged Ava in for a kiss. Her lips were cool, but her tongue was hot as it tangled
with his.
“I mean it, Ava,” he whispered against her mouth as he pushed his jacket off her shoulders. “You’re a treasure.”
She jolted when his cold hands skimmed under her sweater, then she melted against him. “Convince me.”
And for the rest of the night, Roman did everything in his power to do just that.