He looks poster boy sexy, ruffled, but totally stressed; his arms are up and resting on top of his head in a pose that just screams “My life is fucking over”. I falter, but he says nothing, just sighs; still watching me and I force myself to walk into the room. I look around for his guest and note his door is shut.

“She’s in there … It was Marissa.” He points out darkly. I say nothing, just chew my lip nervously. My heart’s pounding so hard I think I may have a heart attack and I want him to stop staring at me. He’s making me even more nervous than I already am, dissolving my resolve.

“Are you done having your after-sex crisis?” his tone droll, I flinch at his words but ignore them and take a slow breath.

“I’m going running … I need some air.” I respond quietly. Unable to meet his eyes. Focusing on putting my iPod in my holder on my arm, and plugging the headphones in.

“How appropriate, Emma,” he sneers at me. I glare at him, but move to the side, to walk around the furniture for the door. He jumps up, leaping easily over the couch and standing face to face with me, blocking my route menacingly. He towers above me, anger all over his face and I hesitate. “I don’t think so.”

“What? You’re going to stop me from leaving?” I reel back in trepidation. A little unsure of him right now.

“If I have to.” He looks sardonic and I back off unsurely.

“You want a cozy chat with me and Marissa, do you?” I can’t help with the sarcasm; he’s knocked me off balance with his behavior and I’m just reacting.

Why am I being this way? … Why is he? What’s wrong with us? We should be able to just go back to before.

He steps back, seemingly stung by what I said and rubs a hand over his face, losing his menacing glare. He scrubs his fingers through his unruly hair, looking desolate and I get a twang of guilt and pity, but I steel myself to stay still.

“Things are fucked, Emma …” His voice wavers, he sounds exhausted, just like I am.

That’s an understatement if I ever heard one, and I’m heartbroken that he’s now only realizing this! He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek and runs his thumb across my mouth unexpectedly, causing me to flinch at his touch, at the surprise of such a tender motion. He withdraws as if I’ve scolded him, puts both hands into his pockets instead. He looks like a child and turns his face away, hunching his shoulders. It makes me ache to reach out for him, but I still my hands by my side. I have more control than this. I need to do this.

“Are you going to fire me?” I ask flatly; I need to know … I need to prepare myself. Figure out where I go from here.

“Why would you ask me that?” he snaps, his fiery green gaze on me, anger instantly returning.

Oh … I don’t know maybe because you’ve another woman sitting, waiting in your bedroom, and coitus is not part of my pre-arranged employment contract.

He snorts as if I’ve said something outrageous, then mumbles something that sounds like “you and me both”. I’m not sure, but I ignore it

here?” I nod toward the door behind him fighting that inner twang of pain. Jealousy. He stops for a moment, as if he’s trying to

pregnant … I fucked up.”

I’m reeling and dying all at the same time … Unable to really take in his devastated

What the hell?

as the last time I fainted and fueled

floor with me,

down toward the couch beside him, he draws me in, sitting me quickly. I grasp my face and sink my head between my knees, trying to push the

useless,” he hisses

can’t lift my head just yet or I may actually die … I think I’m losing the ability to see. Everything is swimming and heat has washed up from my toes in a sickening wave. My

Emma …You’re getting seen by someone

all. I’ve had a shock okay … You just told me you’re going to be a father, just after we … For fuck’s sake.” I snap, and he stops dead; paling

the only

Ironically put.

she tell you?” I try and sit up unaided, swaying a little, but feeling less likely to keel over. Trying to figure out how long

he sleep with

He sighs looking down at his

explains his monumentally shitty mood for the past couple of days, and hints at just how

are you going to do? … Marry her?” my

do I sound so childlike? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because the thought of Jake

the twisted

I’m sure Father Carrero will have something to say about a namesake being born out of

stupid.” I remember him telling me about his father marrying his mother on

“What then?”

do I even care? I shouldn’t

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