34. Michael
“Hey,” I greet Diana with a smile. But something’s wrong. I can tell as soon as my eyes meet hers.
“Hey. How’s everything?”
“Good.” I smile again, but this time it’s forced. “We were just talking about the food. And Emi was asking me questions about the cooking process.”
She looks at her daughter. “Oh, yeah? You into cooking now?”
Emi blushes and looks down at the table. “I mean, it’s kinda cool. After Michael forced us to watch those episodes of that kid cooking show—”
I scoff. “Forced? You wish.” My chest fills with pride, but I try to hide it. No need to tell a bunch of preteens I’m emotional over them liking Masterchef Junior.
Emi smiles a little. “Anyway, I thought it looked a little cool. So Michael was just explaining how he made it.”
“That’s amazing. What was your favorite part?” Diana’s all smiles and enthusiasm for the food as Emi talks.
After, she congratulates the girls once again for their performance in the talent show, but the light in her eyes isn’t there.
The one that shone brightly in the dead of night in her bedroom as I made love to her the night before.
Sure, it faded with Rodrigo’s arrival, but it was still present. Now, though…
She fake-smiles through the rest of dinner, and apologizes to her daughters on behalf of their father for having to leave so soon without saying goodbye, leaving me with so much intrigue, it’s almost painful.
Cami and Emi take it better than I would’ve ever expected.
And while I’m happy they aren’t distraught and wailing, a sheen of tears the only sign of their sadness, something about the mildness in their reaction is louder than any tantrum could’ve been.
It means they’re used to being disappointed by him.
In my opinion, that’s even more heartbreaking since they deserve the goddamn world. They deserve to feel loved.
Diana’s gaze flits to mine, and I finally see it. The anxiety. The concern. The clear signal that something isn’t right. Before, she was hiding it. Now, it’s obvious she’s close to losing her grip.
Fuck.
What did he say to her? What did he do?
A fire lights within, blazing through my veins. I don’t even know for sure what happened, but I know he’s left, and she’s upset, and that’s enough of a reason for me to want to hunt him down and really teach him a lesson.
I won’t though. Not that way, at least.
I’ve grown since my teens and twenties, and I know better than to fuck around and find out by starting a physical fight with anyone. No matter how much they deserve to have their nose punched in.
“Michael, can we go check out the kitchen? Lexi told us she’d show us around once we were done with dessert.” Emi looks up at me with hope and excitement in her eyes.
I have a strict “No kids allowed in the back while the restaurant is open” rule, but if I don’t get a few seconds alone to find out what that asshole said or did to Diana any time soon, I’m going to lose it.
So I put my trust in Lexi, tell the girls to stay clear of the chefs, warn them not to get burnt, and let all three go behind the kitchen doors in search of their next adventure.
“What’s going on?” I ask Diana in a low voice, unsuccessfully keeping the panic out of my voice.
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just… had to send him home.”
I frown, going stone cold. There’s obviously more to the story. But why isn’t she sharing? “What happened? What did he say? What did he do?” I can hear the frustration in my voice. Just tell me.
“He didn’t do anything. It was just… hard. It’s always hard with him, you know?”
My stomach rolls, blood running cold. “Do you—” I stop. Swallow hard, twice. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
Mercifully, Diana snorts. “God, no.”
“Then…”
She sighs deeply, as if trying to expel every single thing that weighs heavily on her chest. “Just… We talked about some things that were difficult. Things I need to process.”
I groan. “Come on, Diana. You’re being cryptic, and I have no idea why. You’re shutting me out.”
She bites her lower lip and looks away, but I don’t miss the way her eyes sparkle with the sheen of incoming tears.
“What the—” I get up from my chair and take the seat beside her, scooting closer until my face is just inches away. “Diana,” I whisper, taking her hands in mine. “What’s going on? What did that fucker say? I’ll fucking kill him.”
She sniffs and looks back at me—finally—with a half-hearted smile. “Don’t be silly.”
“I would,” I say, my voice gravelly. “I’d do anything for you.”
Her face twists as if in pain at my words, and when a few tears fall down her cheeks, she quickly wipes them away. “Don’t. Don’t say that, please.”
I lean back in my chair, and stare back at her a little in shock. Suddenly, I realize what’s happening here. It isn’t a Diana-and-Rodrigo thing. It’s an us thing. Diana-and-Michael thing.
“I’ll say it if I mean it. And I do.” I tighten my grip on her hands, pull myself closer to her, trying to communicate as best I can that I mean what I say.
That I’m not like her loser ex-husband who is going to abandon her and her kids.
That I’m going to be there for her and them in more ways than one.
I’m here for good, and she needs to get used to it.
“I’d do anything for you and the girls.”
But something about mentioning Cami and Emi makes the whole thing worse, because her tears come freely now; she doesn’t even try to hide them anymore.
“Baby,” I whisper, bringing her hands to my lips. “What’s wrong? Why does that upset you?”
She inhales sharply, a little ragged. Diana struggles to look me in the eye and speak at the same time, so I pull her in my arms. Holding her as she cries, I run my fingers through her loose curls, the scent of her hair filling my lungs.
God, how I wish I could bottle it up and smell it all day.
I look around nervously, making sure my restaurant patrons can’t hear us. But when I catch a couple of people glancing our way, I pull Diana up to her feet and lead her into the office I share with Lexi.
“So we can speak privately,” I tell her when I lock the door behind us. The last thing her girls need is to find their mother in tears minutes after Rodrigo’s departure.
I maneuver Diana into a chair and crouch in front of her as she cries—more quietly, now. I place my hands on her smooth thighs to balance myself, but mostly it’s just to connect. The need to feel her, to make sure she’s real, is visceral.
I wait for the tears to stop almost completely, before speaking. “Will you please tell me what’s going on? I know he left, and that’s why you’re crying, but—”
“That’s not why I’m crying,” she finally speaks, her voice breaking once.
I shake my head. “Then I don’t understand. What happened? Is it something he said? Because if he hurt you…” My hands fist on her thighs, but I stretch them out once again, not wanting to lose control.
“I was the one who asked him to leave.”
“Oh.” That’s… interesting. “Can I ask why? I mean, I know he’s a pain in the ass, and believe me when I say I’m not sad to see him go. But I’m confused. I thought you wanted him around so the girls could spend time with him—especially since the fucker completely ghosted them this summer.”
She winces. “I know. I know I should’ve let him stay because they missed him and he’s their father but… But they don’t need to see us fighting again. And they don’t need to see more conflict.”
“What were you fighting about?”
She shakes her head. “Dumb stuff.” But she can’t look me in the eye when she answers.
And since I’m not an idiot, I ask, “Was it about me? Were you arguing about me?” Because of course the guy is jealous. Three months of radio silence and suddenly he shows up as soon as his daughter mentions my existence in one of her letters? Come on.
She bites her lower lip. Another tear streaks down her cheek. “Yes,” she admits in a whisper. “He’s… he’s not happy about us.”
Bile rising in my throat, I scoot closer to her, my grip unconsciously tightening around her legs, preparing myself to keep her here before the universe tries to take her away from me.
“Why would he be? He’s a narcissist who can’t get over the fact that his gorgeous, brilliant, incredible ex-wife is moving on. To add insult to injury, this man she’s moving on with—me—also cares deeply about said narcissist’s daughters.”
“Yeah.”
I cup her face in my hands, dig my fingers in her hair, and bring her closer to me to press a kiss on her lips.
Diana’s hands come up to grip my shoulders, nails digging into me through the fabric.
I groan, because I don’t hate it one bit.
Part of me wants her to mark me. Part of me wants a reminder that she was there everywhere I go.
Before the kiss deepens too much, I pull away but keep my forehead pressed to hers. We’re quiet as we try to catch our breath, and it takes a minute. After all, one kiss is enough to light a fire inside us both.
“What exactly did he say about us that upset you so much?” I ask.
She scrunches her eyes shut for a few seconds before pulling away. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”
“Come on, Dee. Just tell me before I fucking go crazy here.”
She shrugs once. “That we’re not going to make it, Michael.”
I think she calls my name, asks me if I’m okay, but my heartbeat is loud in my ears, and I can barely process what she just said. Because she told me she already knew the things Rodrigo upset her with. Which means she thinks we’re not going to work out. And that’s just… unacceptable.
I shake her off and pace in front of my desk. She gets up and catches me by the elbow, forcing me to look at her.
“Michael.”
“So you agree with him? You don’t think we’re going to make it?” I can hear the tremble in my voice, something I think I’ve only experienced once in my life. The night I found out Jessie had died and Rachel was coming home with me.
“I can’t take her. I’m not meant to be a dad.
This is a horrible idea. Find someone else,” I begged Rachel’s grandparents over the phone.
It was a plea from a desperate man. The sound of pure denial and fear of a life you never imagined for yourself—one you believed with your whole being you never wanted.
Yes, having Rachel come into my life as my daughter turned out to be the most incredible thing that ever happened to me.
But I have a feeling that losing Diana will be the worst. I have a feeling I won’t recover.
“I… I care about you. Deeply.” Her voice is shaky, her lips trembling. “B—”
“Do not say but. If you value my sanity, Diana, do not tell me there is a but.” I can barely get the words out, my lungs feel so constricted. “If you care about me deeply, do not tell me there isn’t a way to work things out. Because we can do anything together.”
“Michael.” She takes a deep breath, and I know she’s steeling herself to shatter my heart. “Michael, this isn’t going to work out. I think we should break up.”
No.