Chapter 698 After the Breakup, They Found Peace 5
The moment hit her harder than any of the countless times they had made love.
Avery had helped her more than once--money, resources, influence--but tenderness like this was rare.
The tears that had been threatening earlier now pressed harder, but she fought them back. She would not fall apart in front of an audience.
She blinked once, slow and deliberate.
His hand stayed wrapped around hers, steady and warm. To anyone watching, they could have been a couple in love. A real husband and wife. Maggie's perfect parents.
Across the room, Nora set a new test in front of Maggie. No writing or drawing this time--just naming the pictures.
Maggie leaned against Nora's shoulder, her jewel-bright eyes lighting up. "That's a chick. And that's a duck."
Nora smiled. "You're so clever, Maggie."
Maggie turned to Avery, her little face glowing with pride. His chest swelled, the pride almost dizzying. This perfect child was his. He glanced at Isadora, and something in him softened.
Nora, clearly enchanted, decided on the spot to enroll Maggie immediately.
She told Avery and Isadora to come back at 4:20 to pick her up, and assured him, "Mr. Montague, you can rest easy. Food safety, personal safety--everything here is absolutely secure."
Avery believed her. After all, the food was sourced from his own organic farms, and the security guards were handpicked from the Montague Group's elite protection unit. Maggie was as safe here as she could be.
A young, pretty teacher took Maggie by the hand toward her classroom.
Maggie looked back every few steps.
"Bye, Daddy!"
"Daddy, you have to come pick me up after school!"
"Daddy!"
Isadora stayed silent.
Avery glanced at her, a flicker of smugness in his eyes. "What, Maggie's forgotten she has a mom? Only likes her dad now?"
Isadora refused to take the bait. She strode toward the exit, not bothering to look at him.
Avery followed at an easy pace, watching her walk fast and tight-shouldered. Once, he would have matched her mood for mood, both of them too eager to ruin each other's day. Now, he found her flustered retreat strangely... endearing.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, wondering if he was developing some kind of masochistic streak.
In the car, she said briskly, "Take me to the office."
He buckled in slowly, then turned toward her. She thought he was refusing.
"Fine, I'll get a cab," she said softly, reaching for her seatbelt.
Before she could unfasten it, his hand closed over hers. She looked up sharply, meeting a gaze so deep and unreadable it made the air between them feel heavier.
"Avery, let go," she said after a long beat.
His eyes darkened further. His throat worked, and then he murmured, "And if I don't? You gonna call the cops? Or tell Tobias to come beat me up?"
The words carried a dangerous edge of intimacy.
She tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding--steel disguised as skin.
When she realized she couldn't break free, she gave up with a flash of irritation. "What do you want, Avery?"
The answer came in the form of his mouth on hers.
It was a soft kiss at first, careful, almost reverent, as if she were something rare and fragile. She kept her eyes open, so did he, their gazes locked. And just like that, the tears were back.
He had never kissed her like this.
A single tear slipped down her cheek, warm and salty.
She thought he would pull away. Instead, his hand slid to the back of her neck, and the kiss turned fierce--deep, consuming, a claim more than a question. The tears came harder. She didn't even know if they were his or hers anymore.
When he finally let her go, she was dazed, breathless. He stayed close, his forehead resting against hers.
"Now's your chance," he murmured, voice low. "Call it sexual harassment. Or slap me."
Two seconds later, the slap landed. Sharp. Clean.
Her chest rose and fell in ragged bursts. Her lipstick was smeared, eyeliner smudged, hair sticking to her damp forehead. She looked like a woman who had just been taken. And that, God help him, made him want her more.
He swallowed the thought and rasped, "You really don't let anyone get away with anything."
She turned her head sharply. "Do it again and I'll bite your tongue off."
He hauled her back in and kissed her hard.
She refused to respond, pushing and struggling until the scene dissolved into a messy tangle of anger and heat.
At one point she ended up pressed against his chest, crying and shouting into him, "You bastard! You were going to take Maggie from me! You wanted me to be your mistress! I'm getting married!"
"I know."
Time seemed to stop.
His arms tightened around her, holding her as if he could fuse her into himself.
They had hurt each other, resented each other, wasted years in pride and silence. And yet, nothing had ever cut as deep as this moment.
Why hadn't they ever tried to understand each other? Why hadn't they taken even one step toward meeting in the middle? They had been in love--still were--but never once had they said the words out loud.
Until now.
When he whispered it in her ear--"I love you"--she froze. Then she hit him. Twice. Hard. Her eyes were red, wet, locked on him like she could burn him alive.
Seconds later, she wrenched the door open and stumbled out.
A taxi passed. She flagged it down and was gone.
Avery sat in the driver's seat, his face unreadable. Slowly, he touched his mouth. His fingers came away with a smear of blood.
She hit hard. And he still wanted her. He had told himself he'd moved on, that he'd let her go. But seeing her again had ripped the lid off every buried instinct--wanting her in his bed, in his life, in every possible way.
His phone rang. Jennifer's voice came through, breathless and urgent, "Mr. Montague, Tobias just remarried his ex-wife."