Written with Regret (The Regret Duet Book 1) by Aly Martinez

Author:Aly Martinez [Martinez, Aly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Regret Duet (Book 1)
Publisher: Aly Martinez
Published: 2019-05-22T16:00:00+00:00

CAVEN

Clearing my throat, I stepped as far away from her as I could get in a single stride.

Why did she always look at me like that? It was the most bizarre combination of anguish and adoration, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to burst into tears or launch herself into my arms.

And even more bizarrely, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to run as far away from her as I could get or… No. There was no or. Not with her.

I didn’t want to feel anything for Hadley, but in the week since she’d reappeared, she was the only thing I’d been able to think about.

Every day as I’d watched Rosalee playing on the beach, I’d done nothing but think about Hadley.

What if she took me to court?

What if she somehow won?

What if she managed to get custody?

Even the idea of joint custody where I’d lose Rosalee every other week and alternating holidays made me feel like I was burning at the stake.

It was a week spent in Hell, forcing smiles for my daughter while silently preparing for the worst. According to the team of attorneys Doug had gathered, losing Rosalee at least partially was a definite possibility. They were all in agreeance that Hadley didn’t have much of a case at the moment, but eventually she would. She appeared to have money, owned a home, and had a good attorney. Hell, even the letters from her therapists, which she’d preemptively turned over to Doug, were glowing with just how well she’d been doing in the recent months.

But months weren’t enough for me. Not when it came to Rosalee.

At night as I’d lie in bed, staring at my daughter, I’d wonder, had the roles been reversed, if I’d have had the foresight to leave Rosalee with her.

I would have liked to say I would have.

But nothing made sense when you were lost in the past.

When I was eighteen, just two weeks after I’d started college, the kids outside my dorm had set off a round of fireworks. I’d thought I was going to die. My visceral reaction trumped any kind of rational thought. I knew that it was fireworks. I could see them outside my window. Yet, at the sound of the first blast, I could smell all the food and blood as if I were right back in that mall food court again. Fireworks. Fucking fireworks, and I was a six-foot-four, one-hundred-seventy-pound young man hiding under a bed, convinced that it was the end.

I didn’t know if I would have been able to separate that fear from reality long enough to focus on a baby, not even short-term to get her somewhere safe.

It took a lot of years, a lot of anger, a lot of medication, a lot therapy, and a lot of trial and error for me to figure out how to manage the reality of my past. It also required a lot of help.

Ian saved my life that night when he came home from a date and found his college roommate—a kid he’d only known for two weeks—hiding under the bed.

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