I look at her. Really look at her and think about the mess I’ve just made all over again.
“So that’s the whole horrible story,” I say.
She sweeps her eyes across the room. “Did you do all this because you want him?” she says softly.
“I do.” My voice cracks. “Not full-time. I would never take my son away from Ana or Sophie. She’s eight. But she knows he’s my son. To her, that’s her little brother, and she adores him.”
“Of course.” Scarlett looks around again and smiles like she likes the idea of a baby here one day.
“He’s part of the reason for my recovery in Dunbar. The goal of getting back to him helped me stay centered. Focused.”
She turns toward me. “Do your brother and Ana know? That you want to be in his life?”
“Darragh knows I want more. Just not how much more.”
“I think you’re ready.” She reaches for my hand. “You have this beautiful apartment. This amazing nursery. Anda wife. I’ll?—”
“You’re temporary.” The words slip out before I can pull them back.
She flinches like I hit her.
“That’s what you want, right?” I ask quietly. “You said it yourself, you didn’t want a husband. That’s why you said no to Pierce in the first place. Why you kept telling me no.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no comparing you and Pierce.” With tears in her eyes, she adds, “What I’m feeling right now for you, about all this, and all that you told me… This doesn’t feel temporary, Cormac.”
She wants me. God help us both.
“Can we…” I don’t finish.
Scarlett steps back and looks at me. “You look exhausted.”
“So do you. Can we sleep for a few hours?”
“Come on.” She takes my hand.
I flick off the light and step out of the nursery. But I don’t lock it. No need to anymore.
Scarlett notices, and in the hall, I feel her warm hand in mine.
No. This isn’t temporary.
Not anymore.
Chapter 43
Cormac
During a team exercise, Mercer is flirting with Scarlett again while I pretend to look at a tox report for another student. I’m really watching another man lean against my wife.
Scarlett smiles politely, sitting up straight, but I see her knee bouncing under the table. Her little betrayal of annoyance is readable. She’s being polite. She can’t drool onmeduring class.
She sees me, and she reads my jealousy with a victorious smile. Little menace.
I’m about to call time on the breakout exercise when a scream slices through the room.
“Help!” A yell comes from the faculty hallway. “Someone is attacking Professor Alderton!”
“Lockdown!” My voice cracks like a gunshot.