Chapter 8

Reclining back on the pillows with my hand thrown behind my head, I watch Scarlett quietly leave the room, the door left open behind her. Neither of us spoke after I pulled out my cock and rolled off her. I long to hold her in my arms. To run my hands gently over her body to try and soothe away the physical pain I know she's feeling. But I don't. It would only lead her deeper into her dark thoughts. It's best to leave Scarlett alone after our rough fucking.

The sudden silence in the room has my thoughts going to places I don't want them to, but I can't stop them.

Cat, my wife.

My eyes close when an image of her pops into my head. Instead of fighting the guilt, I let it wash over me. This is my punishment. I deserve every bit of self-hatred and loathing I feel toward myself. What I've just done, what I've been doing for years, is unforgivable. To be absent today, of all days...

Getting up from the bed, I dress, and then sit on the rumpled sheets to put on my socks and shoes. With my elbows on my knees, I roughly run my fingers through my hair and let out a deep sigh before getting up.

Weariness has my shoulders slumped as I leave the bedroom. I don't come across Scarlett as I grab my shit from the small table by the door and leave the house. I slip my ring back on my finger as I walk to my SUV. I take the long way home, needing the extra time to myself to gather my courage to face Cat. No matter how much guilt I feel after my time with Scarlett, I always go back. Deep down, I know I always will.

Cat's bright-red car is in the driveway when I pull up to the house forty minutes later. I take a moment to make sure my hair doesn't look like I've just gone through a round of rough sex before I climb out and go inside. After disarming and resetting the alarm, I turn to face the rest of the house. It's quiet and dark, which means Cat's in her office or in our bedroom. I make my usual check of the downstairs windows, leaving Cat's office for last. She's not there, so I go up the stairs.

Typically, once I get home after visiting Scarlett, I head straight for the shower to wash away any evidence of our time together. Tonight is different. I need to see Cat. I have to make sure she's okay. To see for myself that today, and what it represents, hasn't taken her away from me more than it already has.

Our bedroom door is ajar and light from inside floods the hallway. However, it's the door before it that captures my attention. It's cracked open. It's never open. Occasionally, I enter the room and the one across from it when I need a reminder of what we had and what we lost, but Cat never does. To her, neither of them exist.

As I approach the door, my gut drops to my toes. It's silent as I push it the rest of the way open. Despite the darkness, it only takes me a second to recognize Cat's shadowy form by the window. She's turned away from me, so I can't see her face to determine what's running through her head.

My eyes are drawn to the single-sized canopy bed in the middle of the room. I don't need light to know the comforter draped across it is a soft pink. There's a nightstand beside the bed with several books stacked on top. At the end of the bed is a chest with a couple of decorative pillows placed on top. Against one wall is a vanity with a lighted mirror and chair. On the vanity is a pretty purple container holding some of Cat's old make-up. Posters of boy bands hang on the walls, and there are other girly items throughout the room.

My throat convulses as I take in the space, and I swear the innocent scent of lavender still lingers in the air.

Silently, I walk across the room and stop behind Cat. She's staring out the window, as still as a person can be while still breathing. I'm hesitant as I reach out and place a hand on her waist. She gives no indication that she feels my touch. I'm scared to move too fast or make too much noise, because I don't know what state of mind she's in.

Stepping closer, I lightly press my chest against her back. I look over her shoulder and see the stuffed alligator she's holding in one hand and an old purple silk cloth in the other. This alligator means she was also in the other room. Both are clutched tightly to her chest.

"Cat," I say her name softly, and it's only then that I feel the slightest movement in her body. Her lungs deflate and refill with air, her shoulders moving slowly up and down.

I remain quiet after that, letting her take the lead on how this encounter will go. She's silent for several long minutes. I keep my eyes on the side of her face, while she continues to stare out the window.

"Whose room is this?" she asks, filling the silence.

I wrap both arms around her waist, placing my hands on her lower stomach. "You know who it belongs to."

She shakes her head. "I don't want to say their names. It hurts too much to say them."

I close my eyes, the pain in her voice tearing through my insides. Cat knows what happened the night our lives changed forever. She just doesn't like to remember, so she forces it all back, including the memories of them before that night, into a secret compartment in her head. I can count on one hand the times she's allowed herself to remember them over the last five years.

"Eliana," I say hoarsely.

Her fingers tighten around the silk cloth in her hand. "And the other room?"

I force the next name out through a dry throat. "Ryder."

Her breath catches as the name leaves my lips.

She brings the silk material to her nose and inhales deeply. "I remember when I gave her this."

Her voice cracks, like she's forcing the words out past the tears that are streaming down her cheeks. I want so badly to turn her around and take her into my arms. But it's so rare for her to talk about the two children we lost. The only reason she's doing so now is because today marks the anniversary of when we lost them.

"She was a year old. She always loved the feel of the silk nightshirts I wore." Her fingers glide over the material as she talks. "I ended up cutting a square out of one of them and hemming it before I gave it to her to sleep with." She looks down at the silk square, a tear falling and wetting the material. "She slept with it every night, up until…."

Her words trail off, but there's no need to finish her sentence.

A soft sob leaves her lips and it nearly buckles my knees.

"Cat—"

"He was so fascinated with alligators," she continues, holding the stuffed alligator up so we can both see it. "Gator was one of the first words he said. Mama and dada were his first."

"Cat, please, baby—"

"I haven't forgotten about them," she says, interrupting me again. "It's just too painful to remember." She pulls the alligator and silk back to her chest and embraces them tightly. "I miss them so much, Hunter. So damn much. Sometimes I wish I could be where they are. It's not fair for me to live while they don't."

Unable to listen to any more of her torturous words, I spin her around. Her cheeks glisten with her tears, and I know mine look the same.

Bending my knees, I put my face close to hers. Her hands and the items she's holding are smashed between us. "You are exactly where you're supposed to be, Caterina."

She's already shaking her head before the words fully leave my lips. "No. It should have been me who was taken. I didn't save them. I tried, but I couldn't do what they wanted. I wasn't strong enough."

Her face crumples into a mask of profound pain. For so many years, my beautiful Cat has suffered through things she should never have endured. Her experience was so horrific, it would have driven anyone insane. Guilt, no matter how many times and ways myself, our families, and her doctor have told her she shouldn't feel, consumes her. It is the same guilt that rests squarely on my shoulders. I couldn't save our children. I wasn't there to protect them. It was my job, and I failed. Not only our beautiful children, but also my wife.

My grip tightens around her waist. "No one could have made that decision. No one, Cat. What they asked of you was evil and wrong. You are not to blame for any of it."

She sniffles, her teary eyes meeting mine. "Like you don't blame yourself?" My jaw clenches, but I hold her gaze. "You aren't to blame either, Hunter."

This is something we will never agree on. I will never stop blaming myself for Eli and Ryder's deaths. The most important job in my life is to protect and care for my family, and I did neither.

Cat switches the silk material to her other hand and lays her palm against my cheek. Her thumb swipes away a tear.

"You tell me not to blame myself, but you ignore the fact that you aren't to blame either."

I say nothing, because what she's claiming is simply not true. There is nothing anyone could say to make me believe otherwise.

"Come shower with me," I say instead, needing the focus off me. What I feel for my part in losing our precious children is deserved. What Cat feels is not.

After a moment of her staring at me like she wants to say more, she nods. As she approaches the bed, she brings the silk material up to her nose and inhales deeply. She then places it on top of the pillow where it usually lays. Years have passed since we lost Eli and Ryder, but their bedrooms remain the same. Even the notebook Eli was using for her English assignment sits on her desk, open to the last page she was writing on.

A heavy weight settles in my chest as we leave our daughter's room and make our way to Ryder's. I stay right behind Cat as she walks to his bed. She places a kiss on top of the alligator before she sets it down on the pillow. After the first year, I suggested that we pack up their belongings. Cat about lost her mind, and I haven't suggested it since. Eventually we will, but only when she's ready.

With Cat's hand in mine, I lead her to our bathroom. It feels wrong to shower and wash Scarlett's scent off my body while Cat is with me. But I can't bear the thought of leaving her alone right now. She needs me just as much as I need her.

I turn the shower on to warm up. Before I can strip either of us, Cat walks to me and wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face against my chest. I hold her for several minutes, loving the feeling of her in my arms. It's my favorite place for her to be.

She sniffs then pulls her head back, her eyes on my chest. A frown wrinkles her brow, and I tense, fearing she might smell Scarlett on me. But after a moment, she blinks and the frown smooths out. I wait another moment, hoping and praying she doesn't ask me questions I have no way of answering.

When she doesn't, I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head, exposing her yellow lace bra. Next, I reach behind her to unsnap it. The straps on her shoulders loosen, and I pull them down her arms. The sight of her beautiful breasts is enough to make my mouth water.

"How was work?" she asks after I've stripped off my own shirt. "Did you get the issue you were having with an employee taken care of?"

My hands pause as they reach for the snap on Cat's jeans. A problem at work was my excuse for being out so late.

While I continue to work on Cat's jeans, I lift my eyes to her, gauging her expression for anything I should be concerned about. Does she suspect anything? Did she smell Scarlett after all and is now fishing for answers?

Fortunately, I don't sense a hidden meaning behind her question. She looks genuinely curious, and not in a suspicious way.

Slipping my fingers under the waistband of her jeans and panties, I squat in front of her as I slide them down her legs. "Yes. We took care of the problem."

Cat's fingers sift through my hair while I help her the rest of the way out of her jeans. "Sometimes you work too hard."

I grunt, dropping my eyes to concentrate on my task. As I stand, I run my hands up the sides of her legs.

Cat stands before me, completely naked. My cock, which is currently being strangled in my pants, jerks at the stunning view. Toned legs and a flat stomach with curvy hips. Stretch marks line her lower stomach; the only visible evidence that she carried the two children we lost. Her breasts are full with hard, deep-red nipples.

She's simply the most beautiful woman I've ever met.

Her eyes drop to my hands, which are working on my own pants. Once my cock is free and my slacks are shoved away, her tongue darts out to swipe across the seam of her lips. Like she's picturing taking my cock in her mouth.

She moves forward, reaching for me, but I catch her by the waist and lift her into the shower. I immediately move us under the water. I need to wash away any traces of Scarlett before I allow Cat to touch me. What I'm doing is depraved enough. The least I can do is clean myself before taking my wife.

"I want to touch you," she says in a low, needy voice.

All signs of the intense moments we spent in Eli and Ryder's bedrooms are gone. Her mind has already shut them out again. Not because of our current situation, but because she hides their memories. For months, even years, at a time, it's like they never existed. It's what she needs to cope, so it's what I give her.

Before she can reach for me again, I turn her around and press her back against my chest. "In a minute. Let me wash you first." I reach for the sponge and soap on the shelf and pour on a generous amount. Creating a lather, I run it over her body, paying attention to her breasts since I know she likes it.

Next, I run the soapy sponge over her ass and down her legs. On my way back up, I take extra care between her legs. Ordinarily, I would take even more time cleaning her, building her arousal to a feverish pitch, but tonight I'm impatient to have her tight pussy surrounding my cock, and I still have to wash myself.

I quickly wash my own body, giving my cock a thorough rinse, before carelessly dropping the sponge. Cat is already facing me, her eyes hooded with desire. She runs her hand, with nails painted red, over my pecs, flicking my nipples before scraping them down my abs. My stomach muscles clench and my cock bounces.

"I love the feel of you," she says with reverence, her eyes following the movement of her hands. "You're so hard, but soft and smooth at the same time."

Her fingers slide through the happy trail on my lower stomach, taking her time working her way down to where I want her.

"Baby, please. You're killing me here."

A small smile curves her lips. "Now you know how I feel when you tease me."

"You like my teasing though."

Her head cocks to the side, and she looks at me through thick lashes. "Are you saying you don't like what I'm doing?"

"I fucking love it," I grunt. "But I'd love it more with your hands actually on my cock and not just close to it."

"You mean like this?" Her hand wraps around my shaft, causing a hiss to escape my mouth. She slides it down to the root then back to the tip.

My knees damn near buckle, so I slap a hand on the shower wall to hold myself up. "Fuck yes."

Cat steps closer, tilting her head back so she can still look at me. "I want you in my mouth."

A pearly drop of precum seeps from the tip of my cock. When Cat begins to drop to her knees, I let the wall go and grab her hips. As fucked up as it is, I've already had a mouth around my cock tonight. Right now, all I want is Cat's tight pussy strangling me.

"You can suck me later." Sliding my hands down to her ass, I pick her up and her legs automatically wrap around my waist. "I can't wait, baby. I need to be inside you."

Her hands move to the back of my hair as she stares down at me with eyes filled with so much love.

I'm going to hell, I say to myself as I slowly lower her down my cock.