Alone with You Read Online Aly Martinez

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Aly Martinez Advertisement1

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“I love you, Daddy!” she replied.

Chills exploded across my body, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My head popped up and I saw her through the computer screen, still frozen in time at five years old.

Oh, the cruel yet perfect timing of that video.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was a sign sent from up above.

One that freed us both.

Clinging to the thought of my girl letting me know that she was okay, that we were all going to be okay, I smiled at her perfect face as she blew countless kisses my way. I caught each and every one of them, pressing them to my tear-stained cheeks.

“Byeeeeee!” she sang as her face got really close to the camera again.

I didn’t want to say it. I’d never been able to utter it before. It was always see you soon or talk to you later. But never goodbye.

Never to her.

But it was time. Time to move forward. Time to make her proud. Time to live in the present.

Time to recapture the life I’d put on hold all those years ago.

I wasn’t sure I could speak at all. But I only had a few more seconds before the screen went black.

I drew in a deep breath, praying that she was somewhere out there, dancing in the clouds and watching over us all.

“Bye, baby,” I croaked out.

And then she was gone.

However, my world didn’t go dark.

I wasn’t gone.

Gwen wasn’t gone.

And I was finally ready to face the world in order to ensure Nate wouldn’t be gone, either.

After drying my face and straightening my navy suit, I exited the office, not a new man but a man determined to build a new life.

My living room was full of people, and they all stood when they saw me.

Daniel walked over to me and rested his hand on my shoulder. “You ready to do this?”

“Not yet.”

His gaze flashed with concern, but I walked over to the basket of toys and picked up Fiona Iona. Smiling, I heard her voice in my head. “I love you, Daddy!”

Yeah. I could do this.

I tucked the tutu-wearing Tiger inside the pocket of my coat and then nodded. “Now, I’m ready.”

Gwen

The air was stale with the scent of old wood and faded varnish as I nervously shook my foot. The cramped courtroom was even smaller than I’d imagined in the minuscule Belton courthouse. Two worn tables stood in front of the judge’s bench, each with a pair of mismatched chairs tucked behind them. A waist-high, wooden partition separated the front from the gallery, where three narrow pews lined the back of the room.

Angela was seated beside Dylan and Lucille in the front row. She leaned forward and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

I wanted to believe her. But it didn’t matter what happened from that point on. My son’s life would never be the same. I’d sworn not to put Nate in the middle of my relationship with Jeff. We were two adults. Our child shouldn’t have to deal with jealousy or revenge stemming from of our failed marriage. However, it seemed I was the only adult in this situation.

Jeff had every right to be upset about the way Truett had acted. But there were ways to handle difficult situations without dragging our child into the middle. He could have taken it up with the cops and used his legal connections to find out why they hadn’t charged Truett with more. That wouldn’t have been my personal preference, but at least it wouldn’t have involved Nate.

Or we could have had a discussion when he’d called me after Truett was arrested. However, that would have required him not to call me names and scream into my ear.

If the task had been too difficult to calm himself that day, then he could have spoken to me when I’d picked Nate up from his house to ask face-to-face if Truett had moved in with me.

But no, Jeff had decided to use our son as a pawn to get his revenge on Truett—and, in turn, me.

I would never be able to forgive him—or forget.

Dylan slapped me on the shoulder when Jeff walked into the courtroom. My jaw fell open as he strutted in sporting an oversized bandage on his nose and a brace around his neck. He hadn’t needed either when I’d seen him two days earlier. And just to add salt to the wound, Taggart Folly entered one step behind him.

“You have got to be shitting me,” I whispered, a rancid mix of nerves and rage churning in my stomach.

“Ignore him,” my attorney, Marcus Cooper, ordered. Well, really, he was Truett’s attorney.

Marcus had called me less than ten minutes after Truett had set out on his journey to “fix this.” I still had no idea what that meant or if he’d figured out anything. But he’d sworn he was going to be there, and while there had been no sign of him yet, I had faith he’d keep his word.


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