Chapter 20 - Rosa

Years ago, all I wanted was an explanation, a reason for why the man I loved most in the world could take off without a word. I wanted to find Bigby and drag him back to me, tie him to a chair, and make him tell me why he did it.

I wanted to know, more than anything, if he ever truly loved me the way he said he did. Growing up with my parents, I thought I had a firm grasp on knowing when someone loves you. My mother loves me, but my father does not. It feels like it would be that simple until you experience someone who loves you abandoning me the way Bigby did.

All of a sudden, it felt like the floor was gone. Like the bedrock upon which I built, all my other relationships were cracked, crumbling away. I never wanted Kaila to feel that, and certainly not from someone who was supposed to love her always, without fail, no matter what happened.

Now, I'm finally getting that explanation, and I don't feel ready for it.

"You remember," Bigby starts, his eyes locked on the table, his hands tight on the edge, "that I was at your apartment because it was finals week."

"I remember," I say weakly, trying not to feel all those feelings again. Trying to say nothing and let him tell me his side of the story. A small part of me wants to stand and leave, not give him the satisfaction of defending himself, but another part of me wants to hear him out. Maybe the mating bond. Or maybe the part of me that's always loved him.

"Well," he says, clearing his throat again. "I went to take the trash out, and when I was walking through the parking lot, this figure emerged from the shadows. It was your father."

I suck in a breath—I didn't know my dad even knew where I was living then. Hector and I had always been subjected to living under a surveillance state, but I thought I was smart enough to evade my dad's watching. I remember the men I would sometimes see outside campus buildings; the ones I would always have to convince myself weren't watching me.

My father probably knew the entire time that I was still seeing Bigby, even after he forbade it. But then why hadn't he just taken care of Bigby like he took care of every other threat?

"He told me—Rosa, if he had just threatened to kill me , that would have been fine. I would have lived with the threat to myself, but he said he would kill your mother, Olivia, every single friend you'd made at Stanford, to make sure you didn't stay with me."

"Bigby," I whisper, tears coming to my eyes. I can picture the scene clear as day, see Bigby glancing back up at the apartment, trying to decide what to do.

"He said I had to walk away right there. He said that if I so much as contacted you, ever again, he would do it. Kill everyone you cared about, except me."

"Bigby," I say, tipping my head up to try and keep from crying. "I was going to tell you that night. I'd taken so many tests, and all but one of them was in the trash. I thought—I thought that when you took the trash out, you somehow saw the tests, and you bolted."

"You—you were going to tell me that night?"

"Yes," I laugh, wiping a tear away from my eye. "I was going to tell you as soon as you came back inside."

"Fuck," Bigby mutters, putting his head in his hands. "If only—"

"Bigby," I say, a sob finally tearing out through my throat, the sadness like a physical force that can't be contained any longer. "I know, I know that everyone knows, that you know, already, but—Kaila is yours. Even though she doesn't know and hasn't had you as a dad, every single day of raising her has been like looking at you. Her obsession with reading, science, and how bright and athletic she is—everything about her is like you. There's no way anybody could deny it. You deserve to know that she's your daughter."

"Rosa—" Bigby starts, but I shake my head, standing and pushing away from the chess table. A few of the pieces wobble, and my king tips over, rolling across the board.

I hurry away from him, ducking into his bedroom, looking for a tissue. I find a box on the bedside table and quickly pull out a few tissues, using them to stem the tears and blow my nose. It feels like a decade of sadness has been bolted up tight inside me, and it's finally revolting, finally coming out.

"Honey," Bigby says, and I feel his arms come around me. I cry harder, realizing what's been taken from me. This entire time, I've been thinking of Bigby's absence in terms of Kaila—of her not having a father, but I've been hurting, too. I've been without a partner, someone to hold me like this, kiss me, and tell me it will be okay.

Without thinking, without even realizing what I'm doing, I grab two fistfuls of Bigby's shirt, turning my head and catching his lips with mine.

He hesitates for a moment before his hand comes to the back of my head, his fingers slipping through my hair. He tilts my head back, kissing me deeply, his other hand settling on my waist, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my shorts.

But I wanted to touch him, too, so I reached out, my hands immediately going to his belt buckle.

"Rosa," he says, pulling his head back with a hiss. "Are you sure?"

"Shut up," I say, pulling his lips back down to mine. This seems to be enough for him, because his strong arms come around my body, lifting me up so I can wrap my legs around his torso.

He walks forward, leaning down, placing me gently on the bed before his hands scramble, fighting against every article of clothing on my body. He pulls my shorts and underwear down at once, then strips my shirt off over my head, sucking in a breath when he realizes I wasn't wearing a bra.

As I reach for him, he pulls back, his eyes roaming every inch of my body like he needs to categorize every chance since the last time we were together like this.

"Hello," I breathe, "where's the reciprocation?"

Bigby complies immediately, his hand finding the hem of his shirt, stripping it off in one fluid movement. His pants and boxers are on the floor in a second, and then our bodies are gloriously bare, pressed together from chest to hip.

Memories flash through my head—our first date, our first kiss, the very first time I ever saw him naked, had him pressed against me like this.

It's like getting into bed after a long day. It's like the moment when a roller coaster stops climbing and finally, finally starts the heart-stopping descent.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Bigby pants, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach, scattering them along my collarbone, over my breasts, like he can't get enough, like topography with his mouth.

"I think I do," I say, laughing when he meets my eyes. "Have you learned any new tricks?"

"I think my old tricks will have to do," he says, and I prop myself up on my elbows, staring at him with burning curiosity.

"What, you haven't learned anything from your D.C. girls?"

"Rosa," Bigby says, "do we really have to talk about this right now ?"

"Just tell me," I say, breathless, seared through with the potential for jealousy. I know the answer doesn't matter—one girl or a thousand. The thought of him with any other person makes me want to throttle someone. Heat pools between my legs, and I realize, with a start, that the thought of beating off other women to keep Bigby my own is turning me on.

"Rosa," Bigby growls, his hands palming the insides of my thighs. "I haven't been…studying much."

"Much?"

"At all."

"Not even once?"

"Haven't cracked a single book."

"Oh, okay," I sigh, letting my head fall back into the pillow. When Bigby still doesn't move, I raise it, catching his eye. "What are you waiting for?"

"What about you?" he asks, and I can tell he's trying to contain himself. The man is on top of me, his arms bracketing either side of my body, my wetness pressed against his stomach, and he's asking about other men. It sends a thrill through me.

"No other man but you," I murmur, reaching up and pressing my lips to his. Even if I'd had the opportunity to date between Kaila and everything else, I can't deny the fact that Bigby always felt endgame to me. There was no temptation to see what another man had to offer.

"What about Olivia?" Bigby asks, raising an eyebrow.

"What? No! She's my best friend, you asshole," I say, smacking his arm. He chuckles, lowering his head, trailing his lips in a line down my stomach, which makes me gasp.

"Just checking," he says, flicking his eyes up to mine, "you two did live together for a long time, so—"

"Bigby?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up ."

"Gladly," he says before pressing his tongue to my clit.