Page 42 of Flawed

His pull over me is too strong. Maybe it's all the extra hormones, but my heart hurts too bad without him. It wins, and my rationale loses.

I reach into my pocket, unlock the door, then open it.

He kisses me on the head, tugs me back into him, and leads me to the elevator. A few people step out, and we get in. He hits the button for my floor, and we say nothing as it slowly ascends.

Within moments, we're inside my apartment. Luca sets the bag and his jacket on the counter then spins. He studies me, as if hesitating, then asks in a soft tone, "How have you been?"

My voice sounds stronger than I do. I fume, "Since you left me and sent me an apartment full of furniture?"

He closes his eyes, deeply inhales, then exhales. He pins his sad gaze on mine, admitting, "All I think about is you."

I scoff, trying to stop tears from falling, and ask, "If that's true, then why didn't you ever come back?"

Tense silence fills the air, growing thicker until I feel like I can't breathe.

My voice shakes when I say, "You should leave, Luca."

Hurt fills his expression. He asks, "Is that really what you want me to do?"

I nod then stop. Tears blur everything, and without thinking, I slowly shake my head before covering my hand over my face.

He steps forward, pulling me into the safety of his chest, and I sob. "Shh," he coos, along with, "I'm sorry."

I'm overwhelmed. I can't stop my tears. I've spent months fantasizing about him returning and how we'd make it work, even though our loyalties lie with different families. I went to too many doctor appointments without him, including the one where I found out our baby is a little girl.

He should have been there. I shouldn't have to go through all of this alone, yet I am. It's partly my fault, but then again, if Luca can cut me out of his life so easily, then what would stop him from doing the same to our daughter?

"I never meant to hurt you," he murmurs, tightening his arms around me and sliding his fingers through my hair.

I push against his chest, looking up. I sniffle then hurl, "Then why did you?"

He clenches his jaw, staring at me.

I push again, but his palm holds my head, and his arm holds my back firmly so I can't move. I seethe, "I deserve an answer!"

He takes another moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then replies, "It was never my intention."

"I need a better explanation than that, Luca!" I fume.

His hot breath merges into mine. He glances at my lips then pins his gaze on mine again. He offers, "My world isn't one you belong anywhere near. If I could redo my life, knowing I'd meet you, I would. But I can't. And someday, once I've done what I need to do, maybe then I'll be able to make all this up to you. I'd give anything—anything—to have that chance. But right now—and I hate myself for this—I can't give you the life you deserve."

His words are painful. It solidifies that all my fantasies of mom, dad, and baby are just delusional thoughts. I've always known he was an Abruzzo, and nothing will change his roots. Yet, unless he's lying, his statement also shows me how deep his feelings are for me. And one thing I've never believed is that Luca is a liar.

It all crushes my soul further. The grief I've felt over coming to terms with the fact my daughter will never know her father reappears. Now, it feels even rawer because he's right here in front of me. All I want to do is beg him to run away with me somewhere far from here.

The only thing I can muster is, "Then why are you here?"

Guilt appears in his expression. He stays silent.

"Don't you dare stand there and not answer me!" I warn, pushing my palms harder into his rock-hard pecs.

He hesitates then releases me. I take two steps back, but his eyes widen. He follows me until I'm pinned between the wall and his body. He tugs on my hair, grazes his thumb over my lips, then confesses, "I watch you all the time."

My butterflies kick into overdrive while the hairs on my arms rise. "Wh-what do you mean?"

He doesn't flinch, continuing, "I've spent hours sitting in my car or down the street in the cafe, watching your place."

I inhale sharply then ask, "Why?"

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