Reluctant to Love

by Gallo , Rebecca

  Izzy and I return to the loft and we find refuge in the master bedroom. The late afternoon sunlight streams into the room, warming it up. There’s a massive upholstered king-size bed against one wall and the moment I place Izzy on top of the cushy mattress, she falls asleep almost instantly.

  There’s a small sitting area in the room with a loveseat and a television mounted to the wall. I curl up there with my laptop and try to read through the contract Caroline sent me from the publisher. It reads like nonsense to me. When Roderick comes back, I’ll ask him for help. I glance over at my little sleeping angel and realize a nap doesn’t sound so bad. All of my ghostwriting projects are finished and for once, I really have nothing to do. I place my laptop on the coffee table in front of the loveseat and shuffle to the bed. Just like my daughter, I’m asleep as soon as I sink into the soft mattress.

  When I wake up, the bedroom is considerably darker, and Izzy is missing. For a moment, I panic until I hear her voice mingled with the murmur of Roderick’s voice. I shuffle off the bed and wander into the main living space of the loft.

  It’s renovated too, just like the master bedroom. There’s a traditional two-piece sofa and loveseat in front of a massive entertainment unit. Izzy and Roderick look thick as thieves on the couch, whispering and laughing like life-long best friends.

  “You two look cozy,” I say, entering the room. I run my hand along the curved back of the couch and sit down on the loveseat.

  “We were just having a chat about princesses,” Roderick says with a happy smile.

  “Mama, Roddick says you a pwincess,” Izzy exclaims.

  “Of course I am,” I reply with a wink. “And so are you!”

  When Izzy’s tummy growls loudly and then mine echoes it, we all laugh. “I guess my two princesses are hungry! What do you want for dinner?”

  “Chicken nuggets!”

  “I’ll grab some takeout menus and see what’s available.” Roderick gets up from the couch and makes his way over to me. He leans down slightly, as if to kiss me, but I hold up a hand.

  “It’ll only confuse her,” I whisper.

  He growls in response. “Fine. But there’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s important.”

  His words are soon lost and forgotten as we fight over what to order and as Roderick navigates Izzy’s first real tantrum. When he begs for mercy and pleads for help, I hold up my hands and say, “Hey, parenting isn’t easy. Get used to it.”

  I love the way he tries to reason with her, explaining that chicken strips are just like chicken nuggets only bigger. But my little girl is smarter than that and refuses to budge.

  “You’re going to be hungry,” I tell her, finally stepping in. “Roderick ordered all of this food for us. It would be bad manners not to eat it.”

  That gets her. Izzy doesn’t like bad manners and is not above scolding others for their bad manners. Roderick looks relieved as he sits back against the dining chair.

  “Thank you,” he whispers.

  “How did your meeting go,” I ask.

  “That’s what I need to talk to you about.” He shifts nervously in his seat, which instantly makes me nervous. But the conversation is put on hold once Izzy declares she is done and wants to watch a movie.

  “Anna and Elsa,” she demands.

  I came prepared with all of Izzy’s favorite movies. I run into the bedroom to grab it from my suitcase. Once Roderick has it set up and playing, I clear away the leftovers and trash.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he says quietly as his hands circle my waist and he pulls me back against him.

  “Roderick,” I scold him.

  “Relax. She can’t see us.” He playfully nips at my ear which sends shivers up and down my spine and makes my nipples tighten into sharp buds. “It feels like forever since I’ve touched you.”

  I can feel his hard length pressed against me and my mouth waters at the thought of being with him again. It’s like a faucet has been turned on inside of me. I’m craving him.

  “I need to take a shower,” I stammer. What I really need are his hands all over me and his lips leaving trails of kisses on my body.

  He lets me go without a word and I shuffle down the hallway. Suddenly, making sure Izzy has a bedroom over her very own has become priority number one.

  Roderick’s master bathroom is a white marble masterpiece. I eye the clawfoot bathtub for a moment before deciding to test it another time.

  Just as I close the door to the bathroom, I hear the sounds of their voices mingling together. No doubt, she’s telling him all about her favorite movie. Every time I hear them talking, I have to stop and listen, if only for a moment. It gives me hope, hearing them together, that everything will work out, that Izzy and I will find our happily ever after.

  I feel relaxed as I step into the steaming hot shower, eager to get rid of the grime of the day.

  When I feel a gust of cold air against my bare legs, I turn and catch Roderick stepping inside with me.

  “What are you doing,” I hiss.

  He holds up a hand. “Simmer down, sweets. Izzy is out cold on the couch.”

  Any further admonishment is swallowed up in his searing kiss. He grips my slickened body tightly, ensuring I won’t slip out of his grip.

  He pulls away first and touches his forehead to mine. “I can’t stand being so close to you yet feeling like you’re a million miles away.”

  “We’ll figure all of this out. Together. You just have to give it a little time.”

  He pushes my wet hair off my shoulder and strokes his fingertips along the ridge of my collarbone. “I have to tell you something and you’re probably not going to like it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Famke is trying to sue me.”

  I look up at him sharply. “For what?”

  “First, she tried to take credit as my co-writer for the Tristan series. Then, when Larry produced the NDA you signed, she backed off. Now, she’s claiming breach of our divorce agreement.”

  “How could you possibly be in breach of that agreement? We haven’t seen each other in four years.”

  “It wasn’t just about you. I agreed to not engage in any sexual behavior with any woman.”

  “So, you had sex with someone else after we broke up?” My question is a little more accusatory than I intended. I shouldn’t feel upset because we were done but hearing he’s been with other women is upsetting.

  “Yes, I did. Jesus, Eleanor, I’m a man not a monk.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. Just…surprised.”

  He runs his hands across my soaked skin. It feels heavenly having him touch me like this. I watch him trace the Aquarius tattoo on my thigh before his fingers make their way across the words across my ribcage and then to my upper arm.

  “She’s desperate,” he says softly. “Her family money is running out and she’s not very happy I’m succeeding, especially when she thought I’d fail. When I first told her about my idea to reboot the Tristan and Yseut legend, she laughed in my face.”

  My hands find their way up to his face. My fingers burrow deep in his beard and caress his cheek. “How can I help?”

  “Just let me love you,” he answers before burying his face in my neck.

  The water in the shower has turned lukewarm but Roderick’s breath against my skin is hot. His hands skim my waist as he walks us back to the far wall of the shower.

  When he lifts his head slightly to look me in the eye, I see the need and desire all bubbling together.

  “My heart has always been open for you,” I say. “How can it not be when I see your face every day? I’ve never stopped loving you, Roderick. I’ve just been waiting for you to come back.”

  18

  Roderick

  The next day, I take the girls to Empire Stores to go shopping. Izzy needs her own room so Eleanor and I can reclaim some privacy. Living alone meant prioritizing only the space I needed but now that Eleanor and Izzy are in my life, those empty
spaces will soon be filled. We browse the lone furniture shop and pick out pieces for Izzy’s room. Eleanor’s face is pinched with worry the entire time.

  “What’s wrong,” I ask her as we contemplate a variety of twin beds.

  “This place is expensive,” she says.

  I run a hand over my neck and look her square in the eye. “I have money, Ellie.”

  “Don’t remind me,” she scoffs.

  “What bothers you so much about it?”

  She scrunches up her face and shrugs. “It just feels weird. Like, you’re taking pity on me.”

  “I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. Truth is, if you hadn’t come back into my life and brought Izzy, those rooms would still be empty. So, really, you’re doing me a favor.”

  “Please don’t make a joke out of this. I should be able to provide all of these things for her. She’s my daughter.” The last part she whispers as her eyes dart around to see if Izzy is nearby.

  I grasp her upper arm and pull her close. “She’s my daughter too. You’ve been taking care of her alone since she was born. You have to let me help. You have to let me start learning to be her father.”

  Her head falls and the top of it hits me squarely in the chest. “You’re right. Thank you for doing all of this.”

  With a finger under her chin, I tilt her face, so she sees my Cheshire cat smile. “This is for purely selfish reasons, sweets. Our little girl needs her own bedroom so I can have my wicked way with you.”

  I kiss her quickly but not quick enough. There’s a little squeak and both of our heads turn to see Izzy standing ten feet away with eyes as big as saucers.

  “Hey Izzy,” I say with a slight tremble to my voice. “Is that the bed you want?”

  “You kissed mommy!”

  Eleanor hides her face behind her hands, and I can sense her embarrassment.

  “Yes, I did. Is that ok?”

  She places her tiny finger over her lips and taps them. “Do you like her?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Very much.”

  “Okay,” she says with ease and then skips away.

  I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “Shit,” I mutter.

  “Is it over,” Eleanor asks, peeking out from behind her hands.

  “Yes, and it was a lot easier than I expected.”

  “Just wait until we tell her the other truth.”

  From the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar head of raven-black hair. Famke. I reach into my pocket, pull out my wallet and hand Eleanor some cash. “I’ll finish paying for everything and set up delivery. Why don’t you go and get some dinner?”

  “Oh, okay,” she says, shoving the money into her pocket.

  I hope Famke hasn’t spotted us, that it’s just a coincidence she’s here but from the way she’s slowly lurking in the background, picking up one item only to immediately put it back down tells me she knows we’re here.

  When Eleanor and Izzy are out of sight, I make a beeline for her. “What the fuck are you doing here,” I growl in a low voice.

  She takes her time meeting my gaze. “Shopping for furniture, just like you.”

  “Bullshit. You’d never willingly come to Brooklyn, let alone DUMBO. Something tells me this isn’t just a happy accident, Famke.”

  At last, she finally flicks her gaze up. Cognac-colored eyes hit me with their fiery anger. “I had to see it for myself,” she hisses.

  “See what?”

  “To see that you’re really back with her.” She moves forward and runs a hand down my arm. “I thought we could make a fresh start. We could open our own publishing company together, just like we used to talk about.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Famke? You tried to sue me. Twice.” I shake out of her grip and step back. “What makes you think I’d want you back after the shit you pulled?”

  “I had to get your attention somehow,” she says. “Maybe I should have gotten myself knocked up instead.”

  I suck in a breath. Famke has always had a cruel and bitter streak. “Leave them out of this.”

  “Are you sure the girl is even yours?”

  My jaw tenses and my fingers flex. One look at Izzy and it’s easy to see who she belongs to. “Shut your mouth, Famke.”

  “Just remember who has the power, Roderick.” She turns her back on me, intending to leave, but I reach out and grab her arm, spinning her to face me. We’re dangerously close to one another; so close, I can feel her breath and smell her noxious perfume.

  “Do you really think you have power over me? Once upon a time, maybe you did. You had enough money to force me into submission. But Daddy’s money doesn’t last forever, does it? You haven’t been making wise decisions. Make your move sweetheart and we’ll really see who has the power now.”

  I release her and look up to find Eleanor and Izzy standing on the opposite side of the store, watching us with open mouths and wide eyes. “Shit.” I leave Famke behind and hurry over to them. “What are you doing back already?”

  “What’s going on?” Eleanor looks beyond me to where Famke is still standing, a sneer on her red painted lips.

  “Nothing for you to worry about.” I know my words have zero effect on Eleanor because she reaches down and holds Izzy’s hand in a death grip.

  “Don’t lie to me.” Her voice is barely above a whisper but there’s an icy coldness to it.

  I take one cautious step forward, holding out my hands in surrender. “She’s here to cause trouble, and I won’t let her.”

  Her breath is shaky as she inhales and a single tear travels down her pink cheek. “Let’s go.”

  She leads Izzy out of the store and Famke hurries toward her. I’m not fast enough to intercept her before she steps outside.

  “Why are you trapping him with a child?” I hear Famke say just as I make it through the doors.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eleanor answers back.

  “Of course I do. It’s the oldest trick in the book. You absolutely reek of desperation,” Famke hisses.

  “That’s enough,” I snap, stepping between the two of them. “You’ve done enough, Famke. Now leave.”

  “Does the girl even know you’re her father?” Famke says rather loudly. I seize up, hoping Izzy is too preoccupied to notice.

  Eleanor pushes her way between us. “How dare you!” She seethes right before she sends a resounding slap across Famke’s cheek. “What gives you the right to say something like that?”

  “You ruined a good thing,” Famke snarls.

  “No, you did,” Eleanor snaps back before she turns, latches onto Izzy’s hand and leads her away.

  “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” Famke moans.

  “I look forward to it.”

  19

  Eleanor

  I’ve never been a violent person, but Famke crossed a line. She deserved what she got and so much more.

  “Mama,” Izzy whines softly.

  Her voice shakes me from my own heated thoughts, and I stop. Izzy must have heard.

  I crouch in front of my daughter. “What’s wrong, Izzy bear?”

  “That lady was mean,” she pouts.

  “Yes, she was.” We both look up to see Roderick towering over us like some Celtic knight in shining armor. “And I’m very sorry you had to experience that.”

  She shuffles over to him and wraps her tiny body around his much larger frame. “I knew it,” she breathes out with a happy smile on her lips.

  His large hand strokes her hair slowly. “Knew what?”

  She looks up at him, her lone dimple on full display. “My daddy,” she sighs right before she hugs him tightly.

  I sigh because this is going to be a big conversation.

  “Why don’t we get some dinner and take it back to the loft?” I suggest.

  “Okay,” Izzy says, as if she didn’t just find out Roderick was her father. �
��I want chicken nuggets!”

  She hops in front of us and takes the lead, twirling and swirling around like nothing happened. Like some Evil Queen type didn’t just try and crush both of our hearts. I wish I was young and innocent like her.

  Roderick comes up beside me and reaches for my hand but I’m not ready to make nice. “You are not off the hook,” I tell him.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he says defensively.

  “How could you marry someone like her?”

  “Because I hadn’t met you yet.”

  I stop and glare at him. “Don’t be cute.”

  “I’m not trying to be cute, sweets. It’s the truth.”

  I ignore him and yell to Izzy to slow down before she gets too far ahead of us. Izzy may know the truth and Roderick may claim to love us both forever, but the walls around my heart have not completely tumbled. Some refuse to budge and I’m not sure what will bring them down.

  We make two stops for dinner. Roderick is not taking any chances with Izzy tonight. It’s sweet how she’s already got him wrapped around her little finger. When we get back to the loft, we settle around the dining table and there’s an uncomfortable silence. The only person who is oblivious is Izzy.

  Roderick clears his throat and looks in her direction. “Izzy,” he begins. “Do you want to talk about anything you heard today?”

  She pauses mid-chew and looks up thoughtfully. “No,” she says.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Yep,” she responds.

  Roderick and I both look at each other. We’re both stunned.

  “That mean lady said something very important thought,” I press on.

  “Mama,” Izzy says, looking at me with a serious expression. “Stop talking.”

  “How do you feel about what the mean lady said,” Roderick asks. It’s a risky move on his part.

  “Good,” she replies. She finishes eating, wipes her hands with a napkin and looks at him. “You look like me.”

  “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m your dad,” he tells her.

  She points to her heart. “I know you are, in here.”