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A frisson of guilt, of regret, of what if passed through him. Still, he left the envelope in the mailbox and walked away.
From her.
From their marriage.
From their shared history.
Maybe in another life, he could’ve found it in himself to be a cop and a husband—but in this one duty to the city took precedence over duty to his family.
Semper Fi.
He’d taken the oath.
Always faithful.
But to what?
To whom?
Olivia’s face flashed in his mind’s eye. He blinked and shook his head trying to clear it.
And then he paused. He had signed the papers. He and Kathy were separated. There was nothing keeping him from exploring the idea, from exploring her .
He closed his eyes again. It was too soon, then again, it had already been more than eight years. Perhaps, instead, it was well past time.
He lay in bed starting at the ceiling. The shadows that danced across it may well be all the ghosts of his past poor decisions for how they tormented him.
The look in her eyes when he’d called her on her history with men–flashing not only with anger, but with hurt.
He'd meant to do so, wanted her to feel a fraction of what he'd felt when she'd left him–for a second time–without a word.
And yet, now that he saw the impact, he regretted it. It was not who he was.
He reached for his phone and even as he was moving, it rang. Her.
He should've known.
“Liv.”
He found her on his stoop–two takeout cups in hand. A peace offering that he didn’t quite deserve, but was nonetheless going to accept. It was going to be okay.
They made their way slowly to the diner, the silence between them still heavy but now at least companionable.
He could feel her next to him, her presence pulling at him the way the moon acted on the tide. He gently bumped her shoulder with his. “Hey–” He smiled down at her.
“Hmmm?” She looked back up at him, curiosity etched on every perfect feature.
“I'm glad you're back,” he told her, infusing every syllable with meaning. “I should have said so sooner.”
Her fingers barely grazed his–the most fleeting of touches, but it brought with it a promise of something more. “Me, too,” she whispered. “I missed you.”
The diner was bright and welcoming. He stepped forward to open the door for her, and she smiled again this time a little more shyly.
Somehow that unsettled him even more. The stakes felt higher. He wasn't going to screw this up. He couldn't screw this up.
“Liv,” he breathed her name as she passed. It was barely a whisper, an acknowledgement, but she seemed to sense it, shivering. Her tongue darted out between her lips, moistening them, and the movement sent other images into his head.
How would that tongue feel running over his lips, over his neck, over his cock… He took a breath, he was hungry, and not for what the diner was serving.
“You okay?” she asked, looking at him curiously as she slid into the booth across from him. “I know it's been a weird. . .” the thought trailed off. “I know it's a lot–” She reached out covering his hand with hers. “I'm here.”
That was all he needed to hear. “Good,” he answered meeting her dark eyes and holding them deliberately.
She looked away and blinked, and he knew she'd picked up on what had gone unspoken. More importantly, he knew she felt the same way.
He wasn't going to fuck this up.
End