Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,443

to make me realize I would. They were all I needed back then. And they still are today.

“Carla,” I breathe, forcing her to tear her attention away from my daughters, my arms protectively in front of them, shielding them from her…her lack of empathy, her lack of compassion, her lack of love.

Overwhelmed with animosity, I don’t even notice the little boy clutching her hand or the man at her side until he speaks. “Come on, bubba. Mama will be along.” He nods at me, almost offering a silent apology. He must know who I am, why the tension in this small space is as thick as lava. Then Carla lets go of the little boy’s hand, tousling his hair as he walks away with the man. Is she planning on abandoning them, too? Will she wake up one morning miserable with her life and decide to start over, leaving a tornado in her wake?

When she lifts her gaze to mine, tears are visible in the corners of her eyes. Her lips part, but no words come. I should walk away, but I’m glued to this spot. It’s vindictive, but I want her to see how perfect the girls she tossed aside are. Want her to regret what she did to them, to me, to us. Want to take the knife she stabbed into our hearts and return the favor tenfold.

“Daddy?” Charlotte says, and we all snap our eyes to her. “Are we in trouble?”

Carla’s lower lip quivers, having difficulty containing her emotions at the sound of Charlotte’s angelic voice. She doesn’t deserve to hear it.

Seemingly able to read my thoughts, Brooklyn steps forward, pulling Charlotte and Alyssa close to her. “Of course not. Why don’t you two come with your auntie Brook and we’ll go see the prisms, okay?” She steers them away from me, then glances over her shoulder. “Daddy will meet up with us in a minute.”

Nodding, I offer her a smile, watching as three of the most important women in my life head away from the one woman I’d hoped to never see again.

“I can’t…” There’s a tremble in Carla’s tone. I whip my fiery eyes back to her. She always was a good actress. She made me think she loved those girls when she never did. “They’re so beautiful, Andrew.”

All the anger I’ve suppressed the past six years bubbles to the surface in the blink of an eye. I can get over the fact that she didn’t love me, and I have. But I can never forgive her for what she did to those girls.

“Don’t,” I bark, my voice louder than I want, but I can’t control it, not when it comes to protecting my girls from this woman. My jaw tightens, my fists clenching and unclenching as I struggle to work through the feelings rushing forward. “You don’t get to say that about them. You lost that right years ago.”

“I understand how you must feel,” she responds softly. Her tone is a stark contrast to the woman I remember her to be.

When we first met, she carried herself in a way that made everyone notice her. She craved the attention, didn’t care what she had to do to garner that attention. Now, she seems like a different person—reserved, aloof, withdrawn. While she once wore the tightest pair of pants and shirts that showed off her tiny stomach, she now dresses in more conservative attire—a sweater and jeans that don’t look like they were painted on her skin. Her hair, no longer streaked with blonde highlights, is a deep chestnut. Her face isn’t hidden behind layers of makeup. Gone is the dark eye shadowing and bright lips. In its place is just a subtle bit of color to bring out her eyes, cheekbones, and mouth. If I didn’t say good night to two little girls who bear a striking resemblance to her every night for the past six years, I probably wouldn’t have even recognized her.

“I don’t think you do!” A heat fills me, my heart pounding in my chest, a vein twitching in my neck.

“I made some horrible mistakes when I was young.” Her expression remains calm, unlike the Carla I married who would argue over the littlest things. She got upset easily, but that was one of the things I was drawn to…her passion. The sex when she was angry was incredible. But a relationship isn’t sustainable on skin clawing and hair pulling. We’re proof of that. “My biggest regret is…” She trails off,