Seven
Ethan
Ilift my head, feeling a dull throbbing behind my eyes. I’ve been fighting a migraine since the kids have been staying with me three days longer than normal. Marcus ambles in through the door, juggling two sub sandwiches.
Is it really lunchtime already?
“Hey, man. You look a little rough. Everything alright?” He sets one sub on the desk, then sits in the chair, the other sub resting on his lap.
With a groan, I press the heels of my hands into my temples. “I’ve got a splitting headache.” I settle my back against the headrest’s comfortable padding.
“Take something for it,” he says while unwrapping his sub and takes a bite of his sandwich.
I raise my head and regret the moment I do when the movement rattles my brain against the skull.
He swallows his food and wipes his mouth with a napkin before he speaks. “What’s going on with you? You seem rattled about something.”
“What makes you think I’m rattled?” I mutter.
“You get migraines when you get like this,” he retorts.
I slump back against my chair, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh. I reach for my sub, tearing at the paper wrapping. “Lily asked me to extend my visit with the kids until tonight.”
“And that’s a problem because?” he asks.
“It’s not.”
“Let me guess,” he says, a dry, humorless chuckle escaping him as he shakes his head in disbelief. “You think she has plans with a new man?”
I glare at him, chewing my sub with more force than necessary, which only amplifies the throbbing in my head.
“Come on, man,” he mutters, rolling his eyes as if I’m an idiot. “She’s not dating anyone. And even if she was, you have no say in it. You know that.”
“I know,” I say, the words muffled around a mouthful of sub. After I force the food down, I add, “It feels like she’s keeping something from me.”
“And what? You think you have the right to know?”
Yes.
“No.” I shake my head, already frustrated with this conversation. “But she is the mother of my children. I have the right to know if this is something that will affect them.”
Marcus shrugs. “If you’re so worried, then ask her.”
I sigh.
A knock at the door ends the conversation.
“Yeah?” I call out, grateful for the timing.
The door opens, and Hannah’s face appears. “Hey,” she says hesitantly when she notices Marcus in the room.
“Did you need something, Hannah?” I ask my assistant.
“I was going to ask you if you were free tonight for dinner and drinks? You know…to say thank you for helping me the other day.”
I take a drink of my water and lick my lips, and Hannah follows the movement, tucking her bottom lip under her teeth. I roll my eyes internally. The girl is ten years younger than me.
“No, thank you.”
She frowns.
“And you don’t have to thank me. It was no problem helping you.”
She smiles and says, “Rain check?”
“Sure.” I smile back, but it’s never going to happen.
Her smile grows bigger, and she shuts the door, leaving Marcus and me alone.
“You fucking her?” Marcus asks.
“No, and I don’t plan to,” I say sharply. “I helped her carry some boxes up to her office the other day. She’s making it seem like it was a bigger deal than it was.”
Marcus arches his thick eyebrows suggestively, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I don’t think she got the memo,” he says with a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Too bad. I’m not interested,” I grumble, focusing on finishing my sub.
The truth is, I haven’t dated anyone since my divorce. I don’t allow myself to think about Lily and whoever she might be bringing into her own bed. The thought alone makes me shudder.
He lets out a quiet chuckle, but there’s no judgment in it. “Yeah, too bad.” He studies me for a moment before he speaks again. “Listen, man… it’s okay to move on. You know that, right? You deserve to be happy.”
The problem is, my heart has only ever belonged to one woman.
Marcus leans forward, his voice dropping, the casual air gone. “You know, eventually, Lily is going to move on. She’s a catch. Any man would be damn lucky to have her. You have to face that reality, man.”
And that’s the cold, hard truth that’s been gnawing at me.
Her leaving me felt like I was being torn in half, but the thought of seeing her genuinely happy with someone else, building a new life, maybe even having more kids after Ollie…
that’s a different kind of pain. A permanent one. And that is what scares me the most.