Page 106 of Entangled

He found Cara tucked into the corner of the bathroom, soaking wet from a still-running shower, and naked, though she clutched at a towel. She wouldn’t look at him, not when he called her name again, or even when he got down on his knees and reached for her. She flinched away from him when he touched her, but he still pulled her into his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he said over and over.

“Why would someone do that to me, Gian? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

But he thought he did. He thought he might know. He still didn’t want to tell her. How could he explain that someone had violated her privacy and life, simply to hurt him? Wasn’t it bad enough that Cara had to know those photos were his to begin with? That he had not been careful enough with something like those images she trusted him with?

Cara shook from the force of her cries. No matter how hard he tried, Gian couldn’t wipe the tears away fast enough before more ran down her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her again.

He couldn’t make this better.

This couldn’t be fixed.

Gian hated himself for that.

“Cara, look at me,” Gian demanded.

She did, but the sadness that had been constant in her eyes for a week, stared back at him. He was so angry and disappointed in himself, because she asked him the same thing every day: why and who. He was no closer to being able to answer that for her, and each time he couldn’t give her what she asked, he failed more.

“It’ll be fine, a quiet weekend away,” he told her.

Cara nodded, her attention drifting back to the sleeping baby in the car seat next to her. “Maybe it’ll help to get away.”

That’s what he kept telling her.

He hoped it was true.

“Chris will keep an eye on you,” Gian promised, “but if you need anything, if you want me, just call. Okay?”

“Sure, Gian.”

He didn’t for a second think she would call. She blamed him, in a way, and Gian didn’t fault her for it. It had been his phone, his pictures. It was her job lost, her newly beginning career already stained and tainted, and her reputation destroyed with one selfish, vile act. It was her image and self-worth ruined, not his. And fuck him, because he couldn’t even tell her who or why.

“Is it different?” Cara asked. “The Ottawa penthouse, I mean. Is it different from the last time I was there?”

Gian smiled. “A bit. I had some upgrades done. It needed them. I think you’ll like it. Take some time to enjoy it, anyway. I haven’t been able to yet. Not entirely.”

“You could come.”

“You don’t really want me to, though, do you?”

Cara glanced away. “I just need to get out of this city and breathe, Gian.”

“I know, mon ange.” He wouldn’t fault her for that, either. Leaning into the back of the SUV, Gian kissed Cara on her forehead, and relaxed a bit when her soft fingertips stroked his cheek. It felt like a silent promise that things would be better … eventually. Quickly, he laid his hand on top of his son’s head, and Marcus’s eyes fluttered open at his father’s touch. “For anything, Cara, you call me.”

“I will. I love you, Gian.”

That, he didn’t doubt.

Not at all.

“Ti amo, Cara.”

Closing the SUV door, Gian smacked the roof with his palm, and caught Chris’s eye in the front seat. He didn’t have to verbalize his order for the man to do his job, Chris always did it without needing to be told.