Page 57 of Lone King


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See, that’s the problem. I still love him.

After another ten minutes sobbing in the shower, I get out and throw on some clothes before heading downstairs. I hoped the ice cream would have been here by now, but maybe the delivery company is running behind tonight.

“Ava, I wonder what’s taking them so long.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before Marius steps out from the pantry. Ava looks at me sheepishly, but I can’t be angry with her. She’s a romantic who loves the idea of love, so naturally, she made sure not tell me he was here.

“Duck, I thought we should talk.”

Of course, he had to come around when I look like something the cat dragged in. My hair is soaking wet, I’m dressed in ratty black yoga pants and an old t-shirt from college, and I don’t have a stitch of makeup on.

For a moment, I consider saying I don’t want to talk, but that’s not the truth. I love talking to Marius. In addition to being incredibly funny, he’s smart, so our conversations are always interesting.

The man is everything I’ve ever wanted in a husband, so how can I not take the chance to talk to him?

Just then, the phone rings. I answer it and hear the doorman downstairs telling me the delivery guy is here with our ice cream.

“Okay. Thanks, Conrad.”

Ava walks across the kitchen to stand with me. “How about I go downstairs to get the ice cream? Just text me when you want me to come back up with the goodies.”

I shake my head at that idea. “No. Just go down and get it and then come back up and hang out here. Marius and I will talk upstairs so you don’t have to stay down in the lobby with melted ice cream.”

She smiles and gives my hand a sympathetic squeeze. Leaning in toward me, she whispers, “I think it’s a good start that he came to talk, don’t you?”

Rolling my eyes, I shrug. “I guess.”

When Ava begins walking toward the hallway to get on to the elevator, she turns to Marius. “I’ll be right down here, so my warning from before stands.”

He nods and says, “Got it. No funny stuff or the best friend slaps me across the face again.”

She gives me one last glance before walking out to the elevator and leaving us alone. For a few moments, neither of us say a word. To be honest, I don’t know what to say. What exactlyare you supposed to talk about with the man who was just served divorce papers from you not four hours ago?

Finally, he speaks first. “Thanks for not throwing me down the elevator shaft as soon as you saw me.”

Marius still looks like he hasn’t slept all week, but at least his sense of humor hasn’t disappeared.

“Let’s take this upstairs. I don’t want Ava hearing what we have to say.”

I start walking toward the stairs as he follows me, but he stops me by touching my hand before I reach them. When I turn around, I see hurt filling his eyes. I hate seeing him look like this. I don’t want him to be unhappy. That was never my goal.

“Eden, I know you want us to talk upstairs, but before we head up, I have something I need to say. I’m sorry. This whole thing is my fault. I never meant to make you feel like I wasn’t the proudest man in the world to have you as my wife.”

Well, he’s definitely come armed with the big guns. An apology and taking responsibility for this mess on top of a lovely compliment? Who would dislike that?

“I appreciate you saying that.”

We don’t say another word until we get upstairs. I’d wanted to talk away from Ava without having to make her sit in the damn lobby, but now I’m wondering if this was a good idea. Talking in the bedroom will probably give him the wrong idea.

So instead, I stop at the top of the stairs in that area on the second floor that the realtor called a mezzanine. It’s partially open to the downstairs, but I don’t think Ava will be able to hear what we’re saying.

Like in the much of the penthouse, this area only has those minimalist chairs Marius hates. I don’t like them much either, which I guess begs the question why neither one of us has bought new ones. Then again, he spends more time at Ava’s home than here, so that explains why Marius hasn’t doneanything about them. As for me, I barely notice these ugly chairs when I come upstairs.

He realizes we aren’t going into the bedroom and looks around as I stop next to one of the chairs. “Oh, we’re talking here? Why not in the bedroom?”

“Because I thought a more neutral ground would be better.”

The real reason is I know what will happen if we’re near a bed for any amount of time. While a bout of lovemaking is always great, I’ll never be able to have a real conversation with him if sex is looming over our heads.