Page 15

The door opens before I can reach for the knob. Kat pops out with a suitcase, causing me to turn sheepish. “Do you need any help?”

Not acknowledging me, Katya drags several suitcases out to the hallway. Hanging my head in defeat, I feel like a total schmuck. I already helped pack up the twins’ clothes, toys, and books. Ava had a gaggle of teenaged girls that were more effective than her lame dad. Cort let me help him pack his suitcases. Being hopeful my quest for redemption is a short one, Cort and I packed up my stuff, leaving a few sets of clothing out for a week or so. May it be a day or a month, we both know my ass will drag itself to Shadow Haven eventually.

Please, let me help! I silently scream in my wife’s direction. As if mentally hearing me, the muscles in Katya’s back turn taut with tension.

This is one of our biggest points of contention, this silent struggle for control. I want to feel like the man by being the provider, but my wife never allows it. Funny how the other male in our lives has no issue relinquishing his control while still feeling like a man, but the woman blatantly refuses.

Allowing the people who love you to help doesn’t make you less– it makes them feel needed. Feeling needed and essential is my currency. This is what is plaguing Marcus so badly right now.

Katya won’t ask for help, nor will she accept help. Too proud. Too stubborn. Katya needs to be the strength and the backbone of the family, when it’s give and take in every relationship, from family, friendship, and romantic partnership.

This leaves me feeling worthless, thinking Katya a bullhead. In essence, that is one of the core reasons this will never work. We’re both fighting for the same thing, both of us feeling less because we’re not the provider.

“You are so much smarter than I am,” is said without a hint of sarcasm as I follow Katya back into our bedroom, then into the bathroom. “You know when to give up and let go.”

“If I were that smart–” Katya looks at me sideways as she packs her toiletries, working with slow calculation. “I would have gone with my gut the first time we met. I allowed the thrill to blind me. On the surface, I felt wanted and desired. Beneath, it was sick of me to feel flattered by your stalking.”

For the past few months, Katya pulls out her trump card. I’m a stalker, a rapist, and a mental abuser. The old me would have gone on the defensive. The new me stands here and takes it.

“You regret us?” My voice cracks, betraying the ache I feel when I gaze at Katya. It’s not the type of ache most men feel in a divorce. I hurt because Katya hurts. If things were different, she could have been happy with Cortez and me. If things were different, which they weren’t.

“Yes and no.” A wistful yet resolved Katya zips up the last of her bags, then she turns to me. “I love you enough to let you go.” She cups my tear-stained cheek when I hadn’t even realized I was crying. “If you love me, you’ll let me go too.”

“I am,” I reluctantly choke out. “I’m trying. It’s hard for me to let go when I so badly want to pull you in as close as possible and never let you go.”

“To let go of the control ,” Kat tacks on for me. “We can play the coulda, woulda, shoulda game, but that will get us nowhere. It shouldn’t matter what the circumstances were, what we could have done differently, it would’ve never worked. The core of who we are never would have meshed. We need to be thankful for Ava, Azrael, and Marcus Zane. Be thankful when this is all said and done, we’ll still care for one another.”

“Okay,” is all I can say, because I’m on the verge of sobbing.

Fingertips curling, Katya grips the front of my throat, pulling me down to her level. She gently kisses my forehead, leaving her lips upon my flesh. “It’s time to let go, Ez. In the words of Cortez, “it’s time to start living instead of surviving . ” Go live, Ez. Go live.”

“I’ll try, but at least let me help with this.” I ask again, fingers wrapping around the handle of her train case. “Please.”

“Fine.” Katya is trying to hide her emotions behind impenetrable defenses, never wishing to be vulnerable around me. “But just to the foyer. I need to do this for myself, Ez. I need to stand on my own two feet. I’m not even allowing Syn to let me stay rent-free in the house. I. Have. To. Stand. On. My. Own. Two. Feet,” she slowly enunciates each word. “Let me.”

“I promise,” is a vow taken. “I won’t like it, though.”

Katya’s sardonic laugh trills down my spine, filling my heart with happiness and sadness. With a smile lingering on my lips, I help Katya into her peacoat, then knot a scarf around her neck– my teeth and lips will forever remember that delicate, smooth column.

Pushing my luck, I hand Katya the small train case filled with her toiletries, then pile her bags over my shoulders, pulling two heavy suitcases behind me.

Katya said I could help her to the foyer, and damn it, help her I will.

“There is no need to come to my house, Ez.” Katya’s voice holds a pleading note. “I’ll come to Shadow Haven before breakfast and after dinner each day to see the twins. If Ava is staying with me, she will come as well. But Ez, do not come to my house. I can’t– not yet. Please don’t interfere in my three outings a week with the twins. Please .”

“I will never interfere with you having access to our children,” I stress, but I don’t promise I’ll stay away, because that ain’t happening.

Katya scoffs, noting that I didn’t say I wouldn’t ghost around her new home. Separating or not, the woman knows my paranoid tendencies. She knows damn well that integrating, changing our lives, and divorcing has nothing on battling Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. That shit is in my DNA.

My daughter will be within those four walls– I’m coming in.

“You’re not going to… ya know?” Blushing, I remember the first time Katya left me. “You’re not going to leave me high and dry at Edge, are ya?”

“Oh.” Katya purrs, making my cock take notice. “No way. I’m standing on my own two feet, remember? I’m more Edge Publishing than its owner, and since I’m divorcing the owner…” she trails off as a hint.

“Whatever you want, you can have it,” I agree. “And you deserve it. Truly. You are the lifeblood of Edge.”

“So if I said Shadow Haven?” Kat baits me, grinning to hide the tears leaking from the corner of her beautiful, sad eyes.

“Nice,” is drawled in appreciation. “Way to get me into trouble with the husband. But alas, the house is no longer mine, so it’s the safest property we own. Cort will never let it out of his possession.”

“I know.” Katya snorts, no doubt mulling over how much bitching Cort has done since we relocated to Misery Castle. “I was testing you. You should have seen the mortified expression on your face.” Tiny palm covering her mouth, she lets out a soft giggle. “Even if you did own it, you would never give it to me. It’s Cort’s, and I never would’ve asked for it. I just needed you to realize how important Cort is to you.”

“I already know, Kit Kat. I already know. But I can’t just go home with Cort and the kids, acting as if the past four years didn’t happen. I want to be there, believe me, I do. But you are imprinted in Shadow Haven too. I need a little while to grieve.”

“Don’t, Ez,” Katya cautions. “Don’t stop your happiness because you think it’s what I want. I knew this wasn’t right– I always did. Cort’s behavior motivated me to leave. He wasn’t being selfish, he just wanted to be happy. I agreed with Cort because I want him to be happy too.”

Katya presses her fingertips to the skin on the inside of my wrist, stopping me before we descend the staircase. Where her skin touches mine, it tingles. Zings. I know it’s not the forever kind of sensation Cortez elicits within me, but it’s a sensation I will long to feel– a sensation I will forever miss.

Katya won’t believe it, and a part of me knows Cort wouldn’t either, but I truly love and want Katya as a man does a woman. I could say it until I’m blue in the face, but their insecurities and my past behavior make it impossible for them to trust what I say.

“I. Want. You. To. Be. Happy,” Katya slowly enunciates. She’s done this a few times this afternoon, as if she thinks I’m slow or hard of hearing. But I think she’s just giving me time to process her words. Live them. Breathe them.

Gripping her tiny chin in my fingertips, I tilt Katya’s face up to my gaze. Bright green eyes latch onto my mine as she struggles not to bawl. “I love you, Katya. I will make sure you’re happy,” is a vow taken. “Because I know I’m not the man who’s good for you.”

Katya smiles through the tears. “You finally get it,” she says in a voice heavily laced with pleasure and sadness. “Look down there.” She points down to the foyer. “Your future is waiting down there– just don’t make him wait too long.” Katya gets choked up, but graciously covers it.

I’m not so lucky– a sob crawls its way up my throat and it’s not silent. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I stare at Cort standing in the foyer with our children.

Usually the foyer is bustling with activity with the many residents of Whittenhower Estates. But today the foyer only holds our small family. No doubt the household is giving us privacy while they listen at the doorways.

“I–” I hesitantly stammer, coming up empty. I have so many things to say, yet at the same time, absolutely nothing.

“Shh…” Katya flashes me a tear-filled smile. “I’ll survive.” She pulls a silly face, then rolls her eyes. “I always do.” Releasing bubbles of uncomfortable laughter, she turns away from me, so I can no longer see her expression.

“Is Ava coming home with you tonight?” I’m willing to ask inane questions to prolong this epic moment. “Do you think it’s a good idea for you to be alone in that big house?”

This is it for Ezra Zeitler and Katya Waters, no longer Dr. & Mrs. Zeitler. The Boss & Bad Kat. Dr. Lunatic & KitKat. The abducted boy & the hunted girl.

Closure.

…and I have no one to blame but myself.

THE END.

“I need to be alone to grieve too, Ez. I– I do get why you aren’t ready to go home to Shadow Haven yet.” With a deep sigh, Katya pushes me toward the staircase, and I fear that’s the last touch we’ll share. “Down we go.”

Before I go down two steps, Roarke and Aaron appear out of nowhere as usual, trying to take my last act as Katya’s husband away from me. Holding onto her bags for dear life, I attempt to snarl at my enforcers, but I’m too exhausted to be intimidating.

“Hey, I have to do this.” I tug sharply, dislodging Roarke’s big paw from the suitcase handle. “Katya is all yours once we hit the foyer. Don’t take this away from me.”

Men being men, the soon-to-be ex-husband and the newly gained uncle engage in a battle of the wills, both of us wanting to take care of Katya. Roarke loses, simply because husband trumps everything but father.

“Kat, do you want us to help you unload your stuff down on Crestview Drive?” Roarke finds a way to help, knowing I was warned away from the house. At least Aaron isn’t battling with us, because the poor guy is crying worse than I am. “I don’t think this suitcase will fit into your car.”

“I’ll be at the car.” Wiping his face on the cuff of his sleeve, Aaron’s going to lose it. “Christ!” He bolts down the stairs, crosses the foyer, then exits the castle in the blink of an eye.

“Say yes, Kat,” Roarke prompts. “Having something constructive to do will help Aaron deal.” The man knows exactly how to manipulate Katya, and it makes me miserable to know I have to behave.

“Sure.” Katya whispers with a sad smile, seeming to be uncomfortable around Roarke, now that their familial connection is known. “I could use the help.”

“Thanks. Thanks a fucking lot,” is rumbled underneath my breath, pure sarcasm. “I’m not allowed to help.”

Roarke, knowing me about as well as anybody could, just laughs in my face, then descends the staircase. He slaps Cort on the back on his way by, then goes in search for Aaron.

“It only counts if you help, Ez,” Katya mumbles so quietly I barely catch what she said.

“Ah,” I sigh.

Pride.

Lovely.

Stubborn woman.

What I wouldn’t give to go back in time two weeks, then have Master Ez hold Katya captive for life. But I don’t have a fractured identity any more to fall back on when I misbehave.

“You have a right to smile in victory.” Katya taunts Cort when I finally manage to drag the mountain of bags down the staircase. My ass may be panting from exertion, but dammit, my wife only had to carry a tiny train case. Now I feel like a fucking man instead of a worthless eunuch.

“What if I don’t feel like smiling?” Pouting like a little boy, I get the urge to hug Cortez, but then think the better of it, all things considering.

Passing the eerily quiet twins off to a silent and stoic teenager, Cortez is either struggling not to laugh or cry. I don’t know which.

“Well, you can smile when I turn my back.” Using snark as an emotional shield, Katya trails a naughty laugh. “C’mon, ya know ya wanna, stud. You won. Just try it. Flash that patented smirk for me.”

“Bitch,” Cort whispers with affection as he pulls Katya into a hug. For the duration of the embrace, Cort so desperately tries to smile for her. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Katya hugs Cortez back, and even kisses him on the mouth– both of which I was denied.

Cortez struggles to divest me of all of Katya’s bags and her train case. “I get the last leg of the journey– my final act as Kitten’s pretend husband.” Cort offers as explanation, accurately judging my forlorn expression. “My out-of-shape ass can only make it down the front steps. No way in hell was I traversing the grand staircase. Why do you think I can’t wait for Shadow Haven? I’m sick of walking a mile to get to the next room. Ridiculous.” Cort blabbers on and on as he walks out of the castle.

“I’ll see you in an hour or so, Ava.” Katya addresses our daughter, who is trying her damnedest not to cry. The women in our family have more fortitude than the men. “I just need to put my bags in the house, and then I’ll be over to help you unpack and go through your things, so we can split your stuff in half. Okay?”

Katya knows better than to touch Ava. One touch, and those emotional barriers are going to come crumbling down. I have a feeling the minute they’re alone together, they’re finally going to crack.

I accept that it’s my fault, but if I dwell on it, I’ll want to jump from the top of the grand staircase until my skull cracks on the foyer’s marble flooring. I don’t want poor Lenora to have to clean up my grey matter– that shouldn’t be in the maid’s job description. Rumor has it, a past mistress of Misery Castle died from a similar fate.

“Okay, Ma.” Lips taut to stop them from quivering, Ava is barely keeping it together.

“I’ll be seeing ya around, Ez.” Speaking as quickly as possible, Katya tosses that at me from over her shoulder as she disappears out the front doors. My children and I pretend we didn’t hear the sound of agony Katya couldn’t contain before she was out of earshot. Pretend in the moment, but will live on in my nightmares for all eternity.

That’s it?

No goodbye?

That’s our ending?

After fifteen years of being irrevocably connected, all I get is a I’ll be seeing ya around, Ez?

Four years of shared experiences and three children, and I’m not even allowed to give my wife a goodbye hug?

At a loss, I stare at the door Katya walked through, and time slows to span an eternity. My eyes cut to my daughter. Forget about Ava keeping it together, I’m the one who is breaking into a billion little pieces.

The shakes take over my involuntary reactions, hands practically vibrating at my sides. Sweat beads along my spine, tickling as it trails downward. Teeth chattering, I feel as if I’m going to piss my pants. Guts twisting, a hallow ache takes up residence, warning I’m on the verge of being sick. I bite my lip to keep the horrid sounds from spilling– no child, let alone three, should ever hear their father keen.

Consequences.

I’m living the consequences I deserve. Some acts cannot be forgiven or overcome. I’m not the one who gets to decide which are or aren’t forgivable. Chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, I’m close to hyperventilating, powerless to force Katya to forgive me.

“Kids.” The sound of Cort’s voice barely breaks through my panic as he walks back into the castle. The sight of him returning– when a small part of me felt I would deserve it if he left with Katya –it has my chest finally filling with air, lungs inflating.

With a deep breath, I force the words out from my abused lungs, sounding as if I’m talking through a drinking straw. “What happens next?”

Thankfully that’s not up to me– Cort takes charge. “Ava, please take the twins to your dad’s SUV. We’re driving that to Shadow Haven. Your dad won’t be saying goodbye– you know he’ll be seeing you later tonight.”

“Oh, thank God!” spills out in a rush of relief. “I– I just… I just couldn’t handle it.” Stammering, Ava bolts from the castle with the eerily quiet twins in her arms. They must sense something pivotal is happening and can’t process it.

“Ezra.” My name is hesitant from Cort’s lips. He walks toward me, approaching like one would an injured animal. Palms out, steps audible, eyes steady, worried he’ll spook me. “It’s for the best– it will get better.”

“I know,” is pushed out from between clenched teeth, because it’s either that or scream my goddamn head off.

Keep it together, Ezra. Your daughter can’t be stronger than you!

Well, your daughter isn’t letting her spouses go, now is she? She’s not losing anything, there is that. Go ahead and cry, ya big baby!

“You’re not doing so well, are you?” Cort gives the understatement of a lifetime. He instinctively knows not to touch me but doesn’t give a shit. Reaching out, he yanks me into his arms, doing what I needed to do with Katya.

It hurts.

It hurts so fucking much to be held by someone you love but wish they were someone else. The loss of Katya is a physical ache I doubt I’ll ever recover from. There will forever be an emptiness in my life, because she was meant to fill it. But she’s gone, and I respect it, only because she wants to be gone.

Solid arms embrace me, lending me comfort and security. They support me as I lose the resilience to stand. Holding on for dear life, my fists clench the back of Cort’s coat, fingers twisting in the wool. I bury my face into the crook of his neck, releasing body wracking sob after sob.

Cortez holds me up as my knees go weak. He keeps me together as I shake so violently I fear I’ll tear muscle from bone. My sobs echo around the foyer, not the first or the last mournful sound these stone walls will hear.

“You’re coming home with us. Now!” Cortez orders, hands locked around my arms, trying to drag me to the doors. “It’s killing me to see you like this.” Cort’s voice breaks, filled with sorrow and fear– emotions I placed there.

“I have to suffer through this, Cort,” I breathlessly gasp out through the agony trying to erupt. “I have to experience the torment of loss, because then I’ll never do anything to jeopardize our happiness again. I can live through losing Katya as long as she is happy and healthy. But I couldn’t live through losing you too in the future. God needs me to learn this lesson. I can’t go home yet– it’s not time. You promised I’d know when it’s time.”

Pleading, my fingertips bite into Cortez’s forearms as he drags me across the foyer, the heels of my shoes scuffing across the marble. “I need to stay– let me.”

“Ezra!” Palms enclosing my biceps, Cort tries to shake sense into me without avail. “NO!”

“Please?” Using my fingertips, I try to detach myself from Cortez’s unrelenting grip.

“I’m upgrading you from martyr to masochist.” Cort snarls, touch turning from insistent to violent. “I already paid for your sins so you wouldn’t have to. Don’t make me pay again by watching you fall apart. I can’t handle it, Ezra.”

“Go take care of the children,” I desperately mutter, trying to get Cortez to leave me to grieve in seclusion.

Dragging me across the floor like a caveman, Cortez snarls and snaps. “They don’t need me as much as you do. I explained this to you this morning. Once they are grown and have a life, I need you to be sane and happy, so I can have a life with you.” Cortez sounds as desperate and broken as I feel. “You get that, don’t you? I can’t live without you– and I think after thirty-three years of utter chaos and torture, I’ve earned some fucking peace and happiness. Got it? You’re coming home, right now!”

“Cort!” I need to get his attention, the bellow cutting through his tirade. “If I’m not at eighty percent when you see me later, I’ll move in for good. But if I get myself pulled together, I need to stay here for a while. I need to feel this pain to process it. I need the time to apologize to all the people I’ve hurt. If I go with you, I’ll end up never leaving our bed, until it’s time to eat with the kids. What I need to do will never get done. Trust me.”

“If you’re better by tonight, fine. I’m giving you a week to seek redemption and wallow in your shit. One week. I don’t care if you need longer than that. Dwelling on this shit only makes it worse. It’s not healing– it’s obsessive. Insanity. This is nonnegotiable. I mean it. One week. If you don’t come home by then, expect to not get in,” Cortez viciously threatens, and I can tell he means it.

“Fair enough.” Modulating my tone, I try to appear normal, so he will leave.

“I’m not buying your act, Ezra.” Cortez sees right through my behavior. “This better be worth it, making me worry, breaking my heart. Understand?”

“I apologize– that wasn’t my intent.”

“Prove it!” Cortez harshly demands. “I-I– I’m sorry, too. I can only imagine how you must feel right now. It’s how I feel but compounded by a billion. After this, I will never doubt your love for Katya. But I hate seeing you in pain. It kills me, because I want to fix it and make it better for you.”

Lips curling into a smile, I finally understand Cortez. He’s feeling as helpless as I did with Katya a few minutes ago. He’s displaying a powerless and bruised male ego.

“ You are helping . Truly. Giving me this time to deal is helping me. As is understanding and giving me some space to grieve. I need to be alone for a while. I can’t thank you enough for putting up with my bullshit.”

Cortez’s anger dissipates, and I sense our bond is back online again. The stress and overwhelming emotions were dampening it, severing our connection. We understand each other again. Cortez backs off and lets me breathe, the same way I’ve done for him countless times. It’s proof that Cortez is my other half, my better half.

Cupping the back of Cortez’s neck, I draw him down for a kiss. It’s not passionate or lust-filled. It’s not even loving. It’s not a goodbye. It’s about the agony of grief and loss. Our tears mingle on our faces as our lips brush against one another. Tortured sobs spill from our mouths, and I promise myself that I will never be the cause of this level of pain and sadness for Cortez ever again.

“Go!” Palms thrust out, I push Cortez away, moving forward until he’s out the door. I quickly shut the door before I have a chance to look at his expression or doubt my reasoning.

I walk over to the bottom step on the staircase and take a seat. I think of all that I’ve lost and all that I’ve gained. I think of all the miseries I’ve placed upon my loved ones.

Zane said not to plot, that it wasn’t the way. Instead of what my evil nature is beckoning me toward, I compile a list of the people I need to apologize to and why. I have one week to seek them out, speak my piece, apologize, ask for forgiveness, and find redemption.

If I plan on healing, I need to grieve and suffer the consequences of my actions for once. Sitting on the bottom step in Misery Castle’s foyer, I rest my head in my hands, my keen of sorrow echoing from the splendor.