Page 13 of The Satyr Next Door (Convergence Quickie #1)

Gina

I thought the guilt would drown me.

Through dinner I played the part. I made a nice, guilt-ridden carbonara with garlic bread from the freezer, nodding and smiling like a woman who had her life under control.

I even swapped my bathrobe for leggings and an old Georgetown t-shirt, pulled my sex-tangled hair into a messy knot and hoped it read intentional instead of desperate.

But underneath the costume of normalcy, my body still tingled from Cal's touch.

The phantom weight of his hands on my skin, the memory of his mouth traveling paths that made me shift uncomfortably in my kitchen chair.

Every nerve ending seemed hyperaware, alive in ways that felt almost indecent sitting across from my children.

“Mom, you’re not listening.” Aria’s voice cut sharply through the haze. “I said I need poster board for my science project. Tomorrow.”

“Right. Poster board.” My smile felt brittle. “What’s the project on again?”

Her look said everything: you’re hopeless. “Ecosystems. I told you last week.”

I had no memory of it. None.

"Of course," I lied smoothly. "We'll get it after school tomorrow."

Luca looked up from where he'd been methodically separating his spaghetti from his sauce, a ritual that usually drove me crazy but tonight barely registered. "Can I go to Jake's house this weekend? His dad's taking us to the Orioles game."

Another thing I should have known about, should have been planning for. "We'll talk about it later, baby."

The guilt was acid in my veins. What kind of mother missed the details of her kids’ lives because she was too busy replaying the ways her neighbor had made her scream his name? What kind of mother lied about being sick to cover whisker burn?

Aria was still talking… something about her lab partner and unfair group assignments, but the words seemed to come from underwater.

All I could focus on was the way my thighs ached, a sweet soreness that reminded me of being spread beneath Cal's powerful body, of the sounds I'd made when he'd taken me apart with infinite patience.

Heat climbed my cheeks. I drank water to cover the tremor in my hands.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Aria’s voice softened with concern. “You look… weird.”

Weird. If only she knew.

“Just tired,” I lied. Another pebble on the pile.

By the time homework was done, dishes washed, bedtime rituals ticked off like items on a list, the stone of deception pressed heavy on my chest. I kissed Aria’s forehead, whispered "ti amo" into Luca’s hair, and retreated to my room, closing the door like it might hold back the flood.

But it couldn’t. Not when my body still hummed with him. Not when I could still feel his reverent hands mapping me like I was worth remembering. Not when every part of me still whispered yes.

I should have been horrified. Instead, I was furious.

Furious at the voice in my head telling me I was selfish. Furious at the years of dutiful sacrifice that had left me invisible. Furious that for the first time in years, I felt alive, I was supposed to feel ashamed.

Screw that.

The clarity snapped into place so suddenly it left me breathless. I wasn’t going to lie anymore. Not to my children, not to myself. If this was real, and God help me, it already was, then it couldn’t just be stolen hours in his bed.

It had to be all of it.

I waited until the house quieted, until Aria’s music cut off and Luca’s video games went silent. Then I pulled on a jacket like armor and walked out the back door.

The night was thick with crickets and humidity. My heart pounded, not with guilt this time but with resolve. The gate creaked softly as I pushed it open, lantern-light spilling across paths I was already beginning to know by heart.

And there he was. Pacing like a caged thing, shirtless, curls disheveled, tension in every line of his body. His head snapped up the moment I entered.

“Gina—”

“Tomorrow.” My voice cut clean through the humid air. “Dinner. At my house. With my children.”

He froze. For one beat he looked stunned, then the slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Ordering me around now, Bella?”

“Yes.” My chin lifted, every nerve alive with the risk. “If you want more than a tryst in your garden, and I do, then you’ll sit at my table. You’ll eat with my kids. You’ll let them meet the man who’s been making their mother smile.”

Something flickered in his eyes, shock, awe, hunger, maybe all three. “You’d have me meet them? Your children?”

“I’m not hiding you. I won’t pretend you’re something to be ashamed of.” My throat tightened, but the words came steady. “I want this. I want you. But if it’s real, it has to be all of it.”

For a long moment he just looked at me, like I’d offered him the sun. Then he crossed the garden in two strides and pulled me against him, mouth crashing to mine in a kiss.

When he finally broke away, his forehead rested against mine, breath hot and uneven. “Bella,” he murmured, voice rough. “You don’t know what you’ve just given me.”

“I gave you dinner plans,” I tried, though my voice cracked with how much I meant it.

His laugh rumbled against my chest. “Then I’ll bring wine. And fruit from the garden. And everything else you’ll let me give.”

I smiled against his skin, lighter than I had all night. This wasn’t a secret anymore. It wasn’t shame.

It was a beginning.