I step into my suite, go to the bar, and fix myself a drink.

“Did you have a good show, Dad?”

I whirl to find Krystal lying on the sofa, drowsy-eyed.

I sink down in front of her so we’re at eye level. “What are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in bed?”

She rubs her eyes. “I wanted to wait up for you, but I guess I fell asleep.”

Smiling, I kiss her on the forehead. “You don’t need to wait up for me.”

She turns on her side, facing me. “I thought someone should. Mom would have waited up for you.”

The void I left the arena with is now cavernous and aching. I press two fingers against my forehead trying to bring my heart, my body and thoughts back into control.

“Come on. It’s two in the morning. Let’s get you into bed.”

Her blue eyes rapidly search my face. “What’s wrong?”

I rake the hair back from my face. I exhale. She has Chrissie’s eyes. They’re like truth serum.

Fuck it.

Who cares?

It’s the truth.

And I’m exhausted from pretending.

“I miss your mom.”

Krystal smiles and nods. “I do, too.”

I rub my brow and try to will myself calm. “Hey, do you want to sit up with me until I’m ready to sleep and watch really bad American cinema? That’s something else your mom would have done for me.”

Chapter 21

Oh fuck. I can’t believe I forgot my cell phone. It took an hour to get the kids to the lobby. I pat my pockets. No, not there.

“Hold up. I forgot something. Stay here with Mrs. Barton. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to the room for a second.”

“I’ll go with you.” Krystal rushes toward me.

I frown. “No, if Eric sees you, he’s going to get upset again about having to stay behind with Linda.”

Kaley rolls her eyes. “Eric is not going to get upset. He’s not sick. He’s faking. He doesn’t want to go to some lame Royal Botanic Gardens any more than I do. Why can’t we just go to the beach?”

I look at Krystal. “Do you want to go to the Gardens?”

She nods, her eyes widening.

Damn, I think she means it. I’m with Kaley. I’d rather do the beach.

I smile. “It’s Krystal’s turn to pick. We’re doing the Gardens. I’ll be right back.”

Kaley flounces off and drops heavily onto a chair. Ah, she’s giving me that you’re ruining my life expression. Nice touch.

I climb into the elevator with Trey. When the metal doors open again, I say, “Hold the elevator here. I’ll be right back.”

I step inside my suite. Where is my phone? I start searching the sitting room. Nowhere. I go into my bedroom. Eric is asleep in my bed and my cell is on the night table. I grab the phone, shove it my pocket and touch his brow.

Faking my ass. His head is warm.

I go back to the sitting room. Where’s Linda? I check the kids’ rooms. She wouldn’t leave him alone and pop up to her room, would she?

“Chrissie—” Linda says from somewhere and my heart leaps. Is Chrissie here? “It’s going to be all right, baby girl. You need to stop worrying.”

I rapidly scan the room. The terrace doors are open. I move back the drape. Linda is sitting on a chair with her tablet on a table propped up in front of her.

Damn.

FaceTime.

My eyes lock on the screen.

“He hasn’t talked to me since he left California, Linda. He only texted once. In Mumbai. Now he doesn’t reply to me. Is he going to bring my kids back? Just tell me he’s bringing my kids home. That he’s not going to try to take them away from me and keep them.”

My heart clenches.

Fuck, Chrissie, how could you think that?

Baby, I could never hurt you that way.

Linda lets out a frustrated breath. “Christ, you don’t understand him at all. He was angry when he left. He has every right to be angry. He would never take your children from you, Chrissie.”

“How do you know that?”

God, she sounds so tired and worried.

Linda laughs. “You’re being ridiculous. I know that he’s not going to try to take them from you because I know him. This trip is good, Chrissie. It’s been a good thing. They’re doing well together.”

“Tell me he’ll bringing them home.”

“Fuck, I hate that you force me to violate the trust with one of you to remain friends with both of you. Yes, he’ll bring them home. He’ll bring himself home. Be smart, Chrissie. Let him do this. It’s been good for the kids. It’s good for him. You need to stop worrying. Haven’t you figured out yet that he loves you?”

I drop the drape and step away from the terrace doors. I cross to the chair and sit down. I put my head in my hands. This is not what I wanted. Chrissie is unhappy. The kids are unhappy. I’m unhappy.

No, Linda, you are wrong.

This is not good.

I text Trey and tell him to go back to the lobby and tell Mrs. Barton to take the kids to the gardens without me.

Linda steps through the terrace doors. Her lids fly wide. “What are you doing back?”

“I forgot my phone. Eric feels warm. I’m going to stay behind today, Linda. You can cut out. Thanks for offering to watch him.”

Her brow crinkles. “Are you OK?”

I feel like an asshole, Linda.

Like a world class bastard.

I smile. “I’m fine. Tired.”

I watch her leave. I set my cell phone on the arm of the chair, sit back and stare at the wall. I know what this agony in me is—I will never get through this, put everything behind me without her. And that’s what I want. The pain to go away. The pain she gave to me and is the only one who can make it go away.

I don’t know if she can say anything that helps this make sense for me.

I don’t know if there are words that bring forgiveness.

I don’t know what the after will be when I reach for her this time.

I only know I can’t keep on like this.

My phone beeps. Apprehensively I stare at it. I won’t find the composure to do the necessary next step forward from here, nope, not if I see a notification from her.

I need control.

Calm.

To collect myself if I’m going to call her.

And that’s what I want, to pick up that phone, call her, and just jump on the fucking next road from where we are now.

Beep.

Fuck.

I pick up my phone. My lips tighten with a flash of sudden emotion.

Krystal: ?????

Krystal: It won’t be fun without you. You promised.

Krystal: ; (

I press my middle finger and index into my eye. A soggy laugh rattles around in my chest.

Me: I’m talking to your mom.

A harmless lie. A half-truth. I’m preparing to call Chrissie, but I don’t need to tell a nine-year-old all that.

Krystal: ; )

My laughter comes harder then melts and I exhale. I feel drained. Weak. But in a good way. I hit the icon with Chrissie’s picture to call and put it on speaker.

Ring.

Ring.

My nerves grow tauter.

Fuck, baby, please answer.

I don’t know how I got to this point.

I don’t want to lose it.

Ring.

“Hello?”

My senses jump. My mouth puckers. I take a moment to steady myself.

“Hi, baby, are you OK?”

A long pause and something that sounds like a sniffed-back tear.

“I’m OK. But I’m better now.”

I fight not to break down. Her voice is calm, poised and loving, but it’s a façade because I’ve known exactly what’s going on inside her from the moment I saw her face on the tablet in front of Linda.

Emotional stamina.

Fuck, where does she get it?

I lean forward in the chair. “I don’t want to talk about anything that’s happened. Not yet. That’s not why I called.”

“Then we won’t talk.”

The silence between us grows heavy and excruciatingly uncomfortable. Fuck, I don’t know what to say. I’ve loved this woman half my life and I don’t know what to say to her.