Chapter 19

Quentin

My fingers twitch. I find myself leaning into her when the phone on the nightstand next to me buzzes. She jerks, the cocoon of sexual awareness we've been trapped in broken. I could ignore it and reach for her instead, but instinct has me stretching out my hand to the phone and bringing it toward me. I tear my gaze from hers and look down at the device. She must do the same and sees the name on the screen, for she freezes. The tension in the room escalates. I bring the phone to my ear and growl, "Felix?"

"I am at the door." His tone is both petulant and stubborn. My heart rate spikes. My pulse booms at my temples. I've been putting off talking with him, if I'm being honest. Instead, I've focused all of my attention on her because, again, instinct. And yes, delay tactics.

I need to talk to my son. I need to make it clear it's not a competition between us. I need him to see things from my point of view—though I don't expect him to. I am the parent here. I should put my son's happiness first. Instead, I've set myself on a collision course with him.

He wanted to marry Raven. Even if he didn't turn up in time for the wedding, he must have feelings for her. And I walked all over them when I proposed to her. Once more, I prioritized my needs before his. Once more, I'm a terrible example of what a parent should be.

"Quentin, you there?" Felix's angry voice snaps me out of my reverie.

"On my way." I hang up on Felix, then push my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. I'm aware of her gaze following me as I walk into my closet.

Footsteps sound, then her scent teases my nostrils. She runs her fingers down the wings of the Raven etched into my skin. Its wings embrace me on either side with the tips of the feathers curling around to flank my chest.

"It's a?—"

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before," I murmur.

"—Raven," she names the poem correctly. "You like Poe so much?"

I reach for a sweatshirt and turn to face her. "He speaks to the darkness within me," as do you. "He puts a name to the fear I feel inside me."

"Fear?" She half smiles. "I can't see you being afraid of anything."

I'm afraid of losing you. But that won't stop me from the duty I have toward my son, this time. I want to tell her that, but something stops me. Perhaps, my fear that she might insist my duty to my son comes first? Something I know I should prioritizebut which, God help me, I can't. I have to find a way to balance my role as a parent with these very real feelings I have for her. I can't let her go. I can't. But I also need her to want to marry me willingly. I need—my phone buzzes again.

I pull it out of the pocket of my jeans and disconnect it. My son never did have patience. I brush past her, resisting the urge to grab her and kiss her soundly before I head to the door, then stop. "Why don't you shower, and meet me downstairs?"

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me why you proposed to her." Felix throws himself into the chair next to the window in my living room. Then he slides around to hook his legs over one of the arms of the chair. He wriggles around until his back is supported by the other arm, then flashes me a grim smile. So much posturing. The father in me is happy my son has picked up the confidence to go toe-to-toe with me. I'd rather we have a direct conversation man-to-man to work things out. But also, the father in me cringes at the fact I have to explain to my son why I can't not marry his ex.

I hold up both of my hands. "This is your home. You are welcome here, Felix; you know that."

He seems taken aback, then schools his expression back into one of hostility. "How am I supposed to know that? How am I supposed to know anything when you've barely been around for me?"

I draw in a sharp breath. I'm aware of my shortcomings. Aware of the mistakes I made when I was younger. But to hear it from my son's mouth is sobering. "It must have been difficult for you to realize your mother had left without you. And even tougher to have a father who wasn't there for you."

He blinks. Emotions war in his eyes. A mix of anger and fear and loneliness. The kind I've felt myself when I think of my son. Not knowing how to forge a bond with him. Feeling resentful to have become a father when I wasn't ready for it. Unable to deal with his mother leaving me when I needed her the most. Unable to face up to my duties. Hating myself for it, but also, never courageous enough to embrace my responsibilities. And by the time I was ready, feeling like it was too late. Like I'd lost my son. Except I didn't. He"s here now. And I need to find a way to... build a bridge with him. Perhaps, his once fiancée and my now wife to-be can help us find common ground. Both of us care for her, after all.

"You have no idea what I went through," Felix snaps.

"You're right, I don't. But I want to try."

He scoffs. "A little too late for father-son bonding, don't you think?"

"You're here, aren't you?" I point out.

He sets his jaw. "And you know what I want!"

I draw down my eyebrows. "She's not a possession."

He scoffs, "Says the man who believes she's his and who'd hide her away from the world if he had the chance."

I rock back on my heels. "You have to believe I didn't have a choice in this. When I saw her, it was like a bolt of lightning had struck me. And then, you had broken up with her... I... I couldn't take how she looked standing on her own at the altar. She looked forlorn and lonely, and so very sad. I acted on instinct. I couldn't leave her there."

"So you did it because you wanted to what, swoop in and save her?"

I rub the back of my neck. "I did it because there was no way I could not have proposed to her. It was a compulsion I hardly understood myself but could not deny. I acted on instinct."

He juts out his chin. "You did it because you saw the opportunity to move in on what was mine."

"Felix, I thought you didn"t want her." And I was so relieved. "It was your wedding, and you were nowhere to be found. You broke up via a text to your best man. Can you blame anyone for assuming you"d changed your mind? That you didn"t want her?"

"Well—" He averts his eyes. "Why did it have to be you that showed up to rescue her? You wouldn"t even know her if it weren"t for me."

"That"s true…"

"When you met her, she was mine," he glowers.

"No, Felix. And I need you to hear this"—he turns back toward me, and I continue—"when I met her, you had already stood her up. She wasn"t yours anymore."

"I… You… She wasn"t supposed to be yours!"

I can hear the pain behind his words, and my heart squeezes. I can"t have him thinking I did this to one-up him. "This isn't a competition, Felix," I say softly.

"Isn't it?"

I shake my head. "It's not. And it's her decision who she decides to marry."

"But you asked her to move in so you could influence her mind," a whining note enters his voice.

"Guilty as charged. I won't deny that. Also, she wanted to move out of the apartment she shared with you, understandably. It would have been awkward for the both of you. I had the space, so I asked her to move in with me."

"You expect me to believe you did it out of the goodness of your heart? One you don't have, by the way?"

I sigh, then widen my stance. "You already know I want to marry her, and?—"

"Stop it!" He jumps up to his feet. "Do you have any idea how obscene that is? A father wanting to marry his son's ex? Have you no shame? No guilt? No remorse for what you're doing? You—" He shakes his head, seemingly at a loss for words. "How could you do this? The one thing I want for myself, and you stride in and take it away from me."

"You dumped her. She's not your girlfriend or your fiancée," I remind him.

"But you want to make her my stepmother... That's... just indecent. For once, can't you think of my feelings? Can't you see how difficult this is for me?"

And for me—fuck!

My heart pounds in my chest. Sweat pools under my armpits. I knew this confrontation with Felix was coming, but nothing prepared me for the depth of hurt in his eyes. For the anguish on his face. For the remorse that courses through my veins and turns my stomach to stone.

"Felix, son—" I reach for him, but he shakes me off.

"Don't touch me. Don't call me son. You... You're doing exactly what I expected you to do. You're being selfish and looking out for yourself, not caring how much your actions hurt me."

I stiffen. He's right. I've been fooling myself by thinking I could gloss over the issues having Raven in my life raises with my son. He may have broken up with her, but his feelings for her haven't faded. Then, to see her with his father? That can"t be easy for him to stomach.

His upbringing wasn't kind to him. First, his mother left him. Then, I was an absentee father. It"s enough to have caused abandonment issues. Likely, his not turning up at his own wedding was a means to protect himself from hurt. Before Raven could abandon him, like his mother had and, to an extent, how I had, he abandoned her. I'm to blame for his inclination to self-sabotage. No way, do I want to hurt him further.

And yet, I can't not go through with my plan to marry Raven, either. She is mine. Just as much as he is my son. Only, I need to give her space to realize she belongs to me, and not because I tell her so.

As for Felix... He needs to draw the same conclusion, without my trying to explain the situation further to him. Anything I say or do will make it worse. I need him to understand the connection Raven and I have. I need him to recognize that it was inevitable that she"d marry me.

"You're wrong," I say softly.

His forehead furrows. "What do you mean?"

"It means I'm asking you to move into my place." When I retired from the military and accepted a position with the Davenport Group, I bought this townhouse in Primrose Hill. I decided to keep a suite for Felix, should he ever want to stay at my place. In my mind, my home has always been his and he"s welcome here. Felix didn"t take me up on that offer. Perhaps this is the opportunity to entice him to stay under my roof. Forced proximity is one way to try to forge a bond with my son. It may not be the most effective of ideas, but it"s all I"ve got.

He gapes at me, but before he can react, her gasp of surprise reaches us. "What do you mean?"

Both of us turn to find she's standing at the entrance to the room.