“Why don’t you just leave, if you’re so unhappy?”

He sighs. “You know, so many people think it’s something that’s so easy. Just leave. Just walk away. Just end it. The thing is, Avery, is that it’s never that easy. It’s complicated, it’s messy, it’s soul crushing and it is a hell of a lot of work. Does it make it right to do what I just did? No. It doesn’t. I don’t want to disrespect my wife, believe that, but walking away from her isn’t as easy as just going home and saying I’m leaving.”

“Are you going to leave?” I whisper, my voice too shaky.

“My marriage has been over for a long time, but the thing is . . . if I go, I lose my daughter. She will take her from me; I already know that. Lena is that kind of woman—she won’t make it easy for me to walk away. If I leave Macy with her, I’ll never sleep at night. I go home nearly every day to something bad happening to my daughter and if I’m not there, I’m powerless to stop it.”

“So the saying is really true,” I say, my voice broken and defeated. “People really do stay together for kids.”

He sighs. “It’s not right, but it is reality. I’m worried about what will happen if I walk away.”

I swallow and nod, because the truth of the situation is that I’m likely to be no more than a good time until he decides it’s getting too close and too risky. Then suddenly I’ll be no more than a broken little girl who foolishly gave her heart to a man that was never planning on leaving his wife.

“I should probably get some sleep,” I whisper, feeling my body tremble. “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

“You’re hurt,” he says.

I don’t answer; what is there to say? Yes I’m hurt, because I know you’re never going to leave and you just made me your mistress?

“I’m just tired.”

He rolls and shifts us so he’s half leaning over me, his eyes burning into mine. “Do you think I wouldn’t give anything to be with you, Avery?”

“What you’d give is beside the point; you’ll never be with me, Nate. So what we’re doing is pointless. It’s just an escape for you until you decide it’s no longer worth the effort.”

He stiffens and his expression is wiped off his face until he’s wearing a mask of unreadable emotions. He shoves up and leans down, taking his clothes and jerking them on. He’s angry, furious even. He shoves his phone into his pocket and runs a hand through his hair. I sit up, pulling the sheet to my chest and watch.

“Nate,” I begin, but he spins around and glares at me.

“Is that truly how you think of me? That I’m just using you for a good fucking time? Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to be trapped somewhere you can’t escape from? I feel like I’ve got no way out; I can’t breathe when I’m there but I can’t leave because I’m terrified I’ll never see my little girl again. It’s not as easy as you think, nor is it easy for me to give myself to you the way I just did. If you think, even for a second, that this is how I want to fucking feel, to fucking live, then you’re wrong. Each day I go home and I feel like my world is closing in. Before you assume to know how I feel, try living the way I live.”

Then he turns and charges out of the room. I scurry from the bed, tripping on the sheet as I try to untangle myself from it. I hear the front door slam and I jerk a pair of shorts on, then I quickly pull a shirt on before running out after him. By the time I get to the front door and swing it open, he’s gone.

My heart sinks.

I hurt him—and I hate that.

CHAPTER 20

NATE

The house is dark when I get back in, so I find the kitchen light and flick it on. I glance around and see Lena on the couch, lying on her belly with her arm dropping off the side and hitting the floor. My chest seizes with anger. She’s been drinking again, that’s evident from the empty bottle on the coffee table. My mind instantly goes to Macy and I turn, rushing down the hall.

I swing my little girl’s door open and see her sitting on the ground, happily playing with dolls. It never ceases to amaze me how utterly perfect my daughter is. It’s just past midnight and she’s sitting quietly, playing by herself. She shouldn’t be playing; she should be tucked into bed after being read a book, or sung a song.

“Hey baby, why are you still awake?”

She looks up from her dolls, and I see she’s got little tears in her eyes. I walk in and kneel, lifting her into my arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Mommy yelled at me,” she cries, wrapping her tiny arms around me.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t eat my dinner, I didn’t want to eat my dinner, Daddy, because I was full from afternoon tea.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure mommy didn’t mean it. You need to get into bed, it’s getting cold.”

“Will you read to me?”

“Of course I will.”

I tuck her in bed and red her Little Red Riding Hood, doing all the voices. She’s asleep before I’m finished, because she’s exhausted. It’s hard not to be angry at Lena when I see my daughter like this. How can I not? She continues to put herself before our child, and she wonders why we have problems.

I tuck Macy in and carefully sneak out of the room, flicking off the light. I don’t bother waking Lena, nor do I bother bringing her to bed. I can’t. I don’t want to. I pull the bedroom door open and step in, flicking on the light before shutting and locking the door behind me. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I dig in and fish it out. I see a message from Avery.