Return to Love. Yasmin Sullivan Y.

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      Chapter 2

       “Get out. Get out, and don’t come back here.”

      He knew the moment she opened her mouth that he shouldn’t have gone. And though he’d taken his time leaving, it was clear that he’d been outgunned.

      If he had any hope at all, it was that fraction of a second during his kiss when he felt her lips part beneath his, felt her body arch ever so slightly against his chest. But her arms never came around him, and then he saw the reason why.

      He had heard the little boy call out “Daddy” and come running, wrapped in a paint-splattered garbage bag just like the little girl. It had gotten dark outside while he’d been there, so in the glass of the front door, he had been able to see over his shoulder. He could see the little boy jump into the man’s arms, talking a mile a minute about whatever it was that he’d made.

      He hadn’t lost his stride, but his heart just about broke. He never imagined that when he was ready, it would be too late.

      “I don’t need you. Now get the hell out.”

      Inwardly, he was shaking his head. Her hair had been longer, but still smooth and shiny, and her almond eyes had been as piercing as ever. She had been as beautiful and as sensuous as the day she had driven him away, and things could not have gone more badly.

      Nigel Johns sat behind his mahogany desk with spreadsheets piled up on his right and a keyboard in front of him. Today, he was off his game. This wasn’t like him, and it wasn’t good.

      He worked in the accounting department of an investing and accounting firm. He hadn’t been there very long, but he was doing well, thanks to what he was able to do for his clients and what he’d done with his own portfolio.

      “We don’t need you, so just leave, and don’t come back.”

      He hadn’t expected her to fall into his arms, but he’d thought they could talk like two rational adults—now that he was an adult. But that was admitting that he hadn’t been before. Well, it was true, he hadn’t been. Their breakup had been his fault, and now maybe it was too late.

      He’d decided to crunch numbers for the rest of the day—something simple he could do without too much thought. He always double-checked every calculation, but today he was having to triple and quadruple check because his mind just wasn’t where it should be.

      “I don’t need you. Now get the hell out.”

      He should have sent her the money, laid out a plan and put the plan fully into place before entering the picture himself. If he hadn’t gone there...

      He wasn’t getting much done. He pushed the keyboard away, shaking his head. He had clients coming in within the hour. At least their folders were ready, and the review of the accounting figures would be easy. This was a good thing, because where his head was right now didn’t leave him a great deal of concentration.

      “...so just leave, and don’t come back.”

      He’d allowed himself to be chased off once. It was the last time that they’d seen each other six years ago. It was in college, and he was in her apartment. They’d been arguing more, but he didn’t expect her to actually call their wedding off and cast him to the wind. She’d used the same kind of language.

      “Now get the hell out.”

      No way was he going to be run off again. If he hadn’t gone there, things might have worked out differently. But in for a penny, in for a pound. Now that he’d shown himself, he wasn’t backing down, and she wasn’t keeping him from his child.

      Children? Was it one, or was it both of them? The girl was bigger, but then girls grew faster. Right? He wasn’t sure, but he sure as hell was going to find out.

      He’d only found out a few months ago that there was a child—or children. He’d been working, saving, building a life that he could offer Regina. He didn’t want her to see him until he had made it—made something of himself that contradicted the waste of time he’d been in college. The news had hit him square in the gut.

      “You ever see Regina? You been in touch with her since then?”

      He was visiting his parents at home when he’d run into one of his college buddies—the one who used to date Regina’s roommate. The question put him on guard because it pried into places he didn’t want opened.

      “Why do you ask?”

      He wanted to skirt the issue and let it die, but his friend persisted.

      “Because I need to know if you ever found out.”

      “Found out what?”

      The silence and the cryptic way his friend was treading around the subject told him that whatever it was, it was serious.

      “Found out what?”