Page 4 of One More Chance
In that moment, something sharper hit me. I realized how much I had missed. I couldn't stop thinking about how much time I'd already wasted without my kids, and how little time I had left with to fix all I had broken.
The house loomed ahead, a modern two-story box of cold perfection, with its white brick and sharp black trim, the clean aesthetic a fucking mockery of everything that had crumbled in my wake. The place was a tribute to my once-pristine life, now marred by my own hand.
My only solace was that I'd been smart enough to buy the lots on one side, securing three and a half acres of land for whatever the hell I thought I could build. In my previous life, I had sold everything for pennies during the divorce; a transaction that even now made my stomach twist.
This time? I'd build something. Maybe I'd start a farm to fill the empty space with something that could grow? I was filled with purpose at the thought of watching my family experience joy in a safe space I would build for them; something I'd failed spectacularly at in my previous life.
Would that erase the trauma I inflicted on everyone and make things right? Maybe not... but it felt like the right thing, the only thing, to do.
The truck door slammed, louder than I intended, but enough to set off the little security camera above the garage door which blinked to life. Its cold, mechanical eye tracked my every step as I moved toward the house. Sweat slicked my palms, the roses trembling in my hands, and part of me mocked the pathetic gesture as I entered through the garage.
Inside, the house was still except for the soft pitter-patter of Rufus's paws on the hardwood, greeting me in his familiar way. His fluffy tail swayed low and slow, an old dog's awkward greeting, as he still recognized the man who had once called this place home.
"Hey buddy. I missed you."
Truth be told, I did miss him. Rufus had died in the middle of the divorce with Sloane while I had been locked down in Key West; partly for work, partly with Angie. It took years for the weight of his loss to fully settle in. I recalled the pain of not saying goodbye to such a good boy. The Old Me had been so selfishly balls deep in Angie, that he was oblivious to the struggles of his own family.
I placed the roses on the counter and reached back down for Rufus, hugging him tight as I caught a brief look of his confused face; comical yet everything I needed in that moment. My good boy looked so old.
I was petting him when I heard her voice break the silence from behind me. "Levi, what are you doing here?"
For a moment, I couldn't move. My hand stilled on Rufus, who used this opportunity to lean in and lick my face. I took a few deep breaths, telling myself I shouldn't cry but I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes.
"Levi?"
Fuck, her voice sounded so sweet yet broken. The approaching guilt washed over me for everything she had to go through. Years of regret and longing swelled, pressing against my ribs as I breathed out through my nose in steady, practiced exhales.
You can do this, big guy.
Trying to steady myself, heart pounding in my throat, I stood and looked at her. I'd spent hours memorizing her photo in the truck, but nothing could've prepared me for the jolt of seeing her in person. She looked so young, so heartbreakingly beautiful. Then and now, she still managed to steal the breath right out of me.
Sloane's red-rimmed hazel eyes stared back at me, her face pale from the little sleep I imagined she was getting as she tightened the robe around her curvaceous body, her tousled brown hair trickling down her face and frame.
Instantly I felt myself harden, balls tight and painful from the failed earlier tryst. Conflicting emotions of disgust and desire tore through me and I felt like a fucking animal. I wanted to punch myself.
"Hi, Sloane." I smiled at her, because I couldn't help it. I was so happy to see her and I'm sure I looked manic in that moment, drunk on the coursing adrenaline I had been battling earlier.
Sloane quirked a brow at me and took a step toward the island, completely ignoring the roses on the counter. "You aren't answering my question, Levi. Did you forget something while moving out?"
I shifted on my feet, feeling my cheeks heat at the low yet respectable blow she threw my way. "I actually came by to see you and the kids like you asked."
She was rummaging through the kitchen, looking for her coffee cup when I moved closer to the island to sit on one of the stools. Her icy voice cut me off before I could sit. "I never said you could stay Levi."
Sit. Stay. Speak. At this point, I would crawl to this woman if it meant I'd earn her forgiveness, but that wasn't what I needed to do right now.
Hand on the back of the chair, eyes downcast, I waited. Sweat pooled at the back of my neck as I felt her eyes on me, quietly sizing me up.
I know I look good.
Even with limited options, I'd managed to find a slim-fit black shirt that hugged my frame just right and a pair of dark navy jeans that fit like they were made for me. I'd chosen the clothes on purpose, the ones I knew she used to love seeing me in and would make her say, "Mmm, yeah... nothing like drywall dust and deltoids to get a girl going," whenever I flaunted my muscles like an idiot. Being a builder had its perks, after all.
Now is probably not the best time to do that though.
I met her eyes, already narrowed and assessing, and spoke before I lost my nerve, "Sloane. Can we talk?"
The broken laugh that escaped her shattered something inside me, a sound that felt like a crack in the earth beneath my feet.
Bad start. Abort. Abort.
