What Remains of Us | Book 1- Baker and Yvonne

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

Baker sat in his home office, his tie loosened, fingers drumming against his whiskey glass. He could hear the faint sound of Abigail's lullaby playing from the nursery down the hall. Aubrey had insisted on keeping that routine, something she was surprisingly diligent about, but beyond that, everything between them was unraveling.

His head throbbed. The weight of his mistakes bore down on him like an anchor, dragging him into the depths of regret.

Aubrey was in the kitchen. He could hear the clatter of dishes, the exaggerated force behind every movement. He sighed, already knowing the storm brewing between them was inevitable.

He stood and made his way down the hall.

"Aubrey," he called.

She didn't turn immediately. Instead, she scrubbed at an already clean plate, jaw clenched so tightly he thought it might shatter.

"I can feel you staring at me, Baker," she muttered. "Just say whatever it is you need to say."

Baker exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Can we not do this tonight?"

Aubrey let out a sharp laugh, finally spinning to face him, her dark eyes flashing with anger. "Do what? Talk? Address the giant elephant in the room? Or do you just want to sit in your office and drink yourself into oblivion while pretending everything is fine?"

His patience was running thin. "Aubrey—"

"Don't Aubrey me," she snapped, throwing the dish towel onto the counter. "I'm tired, Baker. I'm tired of this house feeling like a prison. I'm tired of trying to make this—us—work when I know you're still in love with her."

Baker's jaw clenched. "Aubrey, that's not fair."

"Isn't it?" She crossed her arms, stepping closer. "You think I don't see it? The way you zone out when you think no one's watching? The way you check your damn phone like you're hoping she'll call? And let's not even talk about how you refuse to set a wedding date."

Baker sighed heavily. "It's not that simple—"

"No, it is that simple!" Aubrey nearly shouted. "You don't want to marry me, Baker! You never did! You just felt guilty about Abigail, and I let myself believe that guilt could turn into love."

His silence spoke volumes.

Aubrey's face twisted with emotion. She let out a breath, shaking her head. "You still love Yvonne."

Baker opened his mouth, then closed it. His throat felt tight. His hands balled into fists at his sides. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he had moved on.

But he couldn't.

Because she was right.

Aubrey's breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "You don't even have to say it." She let out a bitter laugh, tears brimming in her eyes. "I see it. I feel it. Every day, I wake up knowing that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never be her."

Baker's stomach twisted.

"I never asked you to be," he said softly.

Aubrey scoffed, wiping at her face. "You didn't have to! I spent all this time convincing myself that I was different, that I was what you needed. But all I did was destroy a marriage. A home. And for what?" She let out a shaky breath. "Nothing."

Baker swallowed the lump in his throat. "Aubrey, I care about you. I do. And I love our daughter more than anything. But I can't change the way I feel."