Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-seven
Alicia's POV
I was in my room going over some contracts when Travis knocked.
Actually knocked. He never knocked. Usually just barged in like he owned the place. Which technically he did. This was his room too. Even if he rarely slept in it anymore.
"Come in," I said.
He opened the door. Stood there. Sober. Clearheaded. Looking more like the man I'd married than he had in years.
"Can we talk?"
"About what?"
"About us. About whatever this is." He gestured between us. "Or whatever this isn't."
I set down my laptop. My body tensed automatically. Years of conditioning. Years of not knowing which Travis would walk through that door. The drunk one. The angry one. The one with fists.
"Okay. Talk."
He came in. Closed the door. Sat on the edge of the bed. Far enough away to give me space. Like he knew. Like he remembered what he'd done and was trying not to scare me.
Too late for that.
