“So when was the last time you saw Cerek?” she asked, drawing a lazy circle on his chest with the pad of her index finger.
His stomach instantly tightened, and an image filled his mind. A flash of that last day, when he’d set that fire. “Fifty years ago.”
“In Argolea?”
“No. The human realm.”
She didn’t ask, but he knew she was waiting for more. And even though talking about it only brought back painful memories, he owed her answers after everything she’d given him.
“After my soul mate was killed, I wasn’t much fun to be around. I was living in the human realm then, just trying to get from one day to the next. Cerek kept popping over to check on me when he should have been focused on his new position with the Argonauts.”
“He took your spot after you left?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have other children?”
“No. Just Cerek.”
“And you miss him.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement, one that hit him hard beneath her hand where it rested on his chest. A lump formed in his throat. One he’d spent fifty years trying to get rid of but never quite could, one that made it hard to form words. He nodded.
She was quiet for several seconds, then said, “Since you said you were only with your soul mate a few months, and Cerek’s way older than fifty, I’m guessing his mother wasn’t your soul mate?”
He breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful they’d moved on from what a shitty father he was. “No, she wasn’t.”
Daphne looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “It’s very hard to get information out of you, Mr. Super Secretive Argonaut.”
There she went again, relaxing him when no one else ever really had. He brushed his hand down her hair, smoothing it over her lower spine. “It was right after I’d joined the Argonauts. I was young. She was interested in hooking up with a Guardian. It wasn’t serious. When she discovered she was pregnant, we both knew our relationship wasn’t going to last, but we remained connected through our son. We stayed friends.”
“Does Cerek see her often?”
“She died when he was about ten. This was back when the borders of Argolea were more fluid. She and some friends crossed into the human realm and were attacked by a horde of daemons.”
“I’m sorry.”
He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, another whisper of guilt rushing through him because he hadn’t been able to stop Gia. Hadn’t been able to save her. “It was a long time ago. When she died, I mourned her, but it didn’t break me. It was harder for Cerek. I had the Argonauts. He didn’t. Somehow, no thanks to me, he got through it.”
Ari’s chest squeezed tight. Cerek had been dealt a crappy hand, and it was all Ari’s fault. He hadn’t done a thing to make life easier for Cerek, and when it all got to be too much, he’d walked away, leaving Cerek to pick up the pieces of a shattered family. That was Ari’s greatest regret. That his son had paid for his mistakes. Was still paying for them.
“No,” Daphne said softly. “I’m sure it’s because of you that he got through it.”
Startled by her words, Ari looked down at her. Her eyes were a soft green, her face filled with so much emotion, the pain in his chest slowly seeped away. She didn’t know Cerek, didn’t know how cocky and arrogant Ari had been back then, didn’t know anything about his old life except what she saw now. And even after all of the horrible things she knew about him today, she still believed the best of him.
“Why do have such faith in me?” he asked quietly. “I’m not worth it.”
“Do you really have to ask? I have faith because I love you.”
For a moment, he was sure time stood still. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. His heart beat hard against his ribs as he searched her face for the lie he knew had hidden somewhere inside her. But in her shimmering gemlike eyes he saw nothing but truth.
“Daphne.” His pulse turned to a whir in his ears. “I’m pretty sure I’m not capable of love.”
Bracing her hands on each side of his shoulders, she straddled his hips and leaned forward so her lips brushed his in the sweetest, softest kiss. “I don’t believe that for a second. I can tell by the look in your eye and what you don’t say that you love your son. And something tells me you didn’t fake your death so Cerek would stop pestering you. You left to spare him from seeing his father in the throes of a nightmare he didn’t understand. You can love, Ari. You already do.”
She moved back to his side, rested her head on his chest, and curled into him. “Love is a blessing, not a curse. You just have to choose it.”