Fire In His Eyes (Secrets & Seduction #1)(44)

I interrupted, eyes pleading. “Please, don’t tell me you work for your father in law,” I whispered. This was too much.

“No, no, I don’t, but after she kicked me out, told me it was over, that she wanted a normal life, I wanted to prove to her that I could be who she wanted me to be. I could support her like she wanted. I could get her the big fancy house, the cars, the jewelry, take her to fancy restaurants.” He sat down and put his hands out and up as if in supplication begging me to understand. “When Julianna kicked me out, I went to the base and lived there for a while and then Kat took me in. I’ve been spending the last eight months trying to win her back. It’s stupid. I know. All my friends think so, but Julianna was my love, she stuck by me when I dropped out of college, when I went to boot camp, when I was overseas, we have a daughter . . . I loved her so much. She is so beautiful. She was everything to me. I had her, my daughter, and my mom. That’s it.”

“You had me,” I said. He looked up at me and I looked down at my clasped hands in my lap.

“Had?” he questioned. Tears were in his eyes.

Even after all he had done those tears moved me. “I don’t know,” I muttered. I saw him approach and he took my hand then. We just sat there. I had just one more question and I took a deep breath and asked it. “I don’t want to be the reason you divorce, Victor. And, I can’t be the other woman, I just can’t. But, I have to know.” I took another breath, deep; I filled my lungs and looked him right in his sad, beautiful ice blue eyes. “Do you still want to be with your wife, Victor?”

He dropped my hand, and leaned forward on the table rubbing his face, his eyes. Then he looked at me and said, “Before . . . before you, I was doing it for both of them, Stacey and Julianna, but lately it has been more for my daughter. I wanted her to have both her parents, a whole family. I didn’t tell anyone about us because I had myself convinced if Julianna knew about you, she wouldn’t let me see my daughter and push even more for a faster divorce. That is another reason why I left the military, too. If she fought me for custody, or wouldn’t agree to give me partial custody, she could say I was not dependable, and couldn’t provide my daughter with a stable home environment.”

“No judge would take away your rights because you are in the military,” I shook my head at that. I felt for this man, this man I loved even though he was breaking my heart, had already broken it. But, I had to know, and he hadn’t answered my question. “Victor, you still didn’t answer my question.” He looked in my eyes. “Do you still want to be with your wife?” Silent tears streamed down my cheeks.

He looked down and away. “For my daughter . . . ,” he cried.

I got up from the table. I heard his intake of breath. I turned from him.

“I can’t be the other woman. I love you, Victor.” I saw him wince in pain. “You know I do. But, I can’t.” I cried into my hands.

I heard his chair move and I felt him behind me then. He grasped my shoulders and pulled me close and even though every sense of my moral fortitude went against it, I leaned back into him to feel him one last time. He turned me around and wrapped his arms around me, “God knows, I don’t want to, I didn’t want to Monica, but I love you. I love you, too.” He took my face in his hands and kissed my breath away. He kissed me until the tears stopped and dried on my face, He held me close, so close that I felt every long lean inch of him pressed up against me. He held me like that for what seemed an eternity and we clung to each other because we both knew we were losing something so precious. We clung to each other because we knew that our happiness was lost. We clung to each other because we knew our love was doomed.





I hate to admit it now, but we did make love that night. Knowing he was married, knowing he wanted to keep that marriage, knowing he had a daughter whom he loved above everything else, I didn’t try to stop him when he swept me into his arms and carried me to my room. I was broken, and only this, being with him could mend the pieces. I told myself, it was just one last time. Our swan song. Our goodbye.

He lay me down on the bed, and climbed in beside me. It started out as comfort only, me crying and him trying to soothe me. Then, it was one kiss, and another. Then it was a touch. A caress. Then our clothes started to come off; the need to touch each other, feel each other just one more time consumed both of us. We needed to be one. It was slow, and sad, and painful. He sat up and scooped me onto his lap when we were both naked, and we kissed and he held me like a child. I straddled him, and slid slowly down. We clung to one another and caressed, and stroked and touched, and loved, and I rocked on top of him, and he helped me with the motion. We made love just like that, in that position, and we rode the crest together, and neither one of us cried out our release, we just kept hanging on to each other never wanting to let go.

I don’t know when and how I fell asleep, but I did and when I woke he was gone. I was alone with my heart break, and he presumably with his.

He did leave a note though. It read;

I wish I had met you, all those years ago. I’ll love you forever, Victor

And that was it. I didn’t hear from him for a very, very long time.



Summer, flew by, and I licked my wounds, wounds that wouldn’t heal. I threw myself into my workouts, spending hours running, and biking, just so I didn’t have to think about Victor. My sister helped, tried to give me hope. Maybe he will realize one day, and surely he will come to see that you are what is best for him, she would say. Or, damn those Italian’s and their pride.