MARRIED TO MY EX FATHER IN LAW

OCEAN'S FALLEN

I stand in my bedroom for a full minute after Lola runs out.

Just stand there. In a towel. Dripping water onto the floor. Trying to process what just happened.

She walked in on me. Saw me half-naked. Saw the scars I usually keep hidden.

And the way she looked at me before she fled...

Fuck.

I know that look. I've seen it enough times in my life to recognize it.

Desire.

Lola looked at me with desire.

Not gratitude. Not fear. Not pity for the scarred criminal who saved her.

Want.

Raw. Unmistakable. Want.

And my body responded. Instantly. Which is why I grabbed a shirt so fast. Why I let her run instead of stopping her.

Because if she'd stayed one more second, if she'd kept looking at me like that...

I don't know what I would have done.

"f**k," I say out loud. To my empty bedroom. To nobody.

This is bad. This is so f*****g bad.

I get dressed. Try to calm down. Try to think rationally.

She's twenty-three. Traumatized. Healing. Living in my house because she has nowhere else to go. The power dynamic alone makes this impossible.

And she's probably not even attracted to me. Not really. She's just confused. Mixing up safety with desire because her brain doesn't know the difference after four years of abuse.

That's all it is.

Except the way she looked at my scars. Not with disgust or fear. With something like... fascination? Curiosity?

The way her breath caught when she saw my chest.

The way she couldn't stop staring before she remembered to be embarrassed.

That wasn't confusion. That was attraction.

And I felt it too. Standing there in a towel with her eyes on me. Felt the pull. The want. The desperate need to close the distance between us.

I've been fighting it for weeks. These feelings that keep growing. But seeing the way she looked at me today?

I'm not the only one feeling this.

Which makes it so much worse.

Because I can control myself. Can maintain boundaries. Can ignore my own desires.

But if Lola wants me too? If this thing between us is mutual?

We're in dangerous territory.

I go downstairs. Need to check on her. Need to make sure she's okay. Need to do something normal instead of standing in my bedroom thinking about how she looked at my body.

I knock on her door. "Lola? Are you okay?"

She sounds flustered when she answers. Embarrassed. Apologizing again.

I tell her it's fine. Not her fault. All the right things.

Then I ask to come in. Terrible idea. But I need to see her face. Need to assess the damage.

She opens the door.

And the moment our eyes meet, I know she felt it too. The pull. The awareness. The thing we're both trying to pretend doesn't exist.

She mentions the scars. Asks if they hurt.

"Not anymore. They're old. Just reminders of mistakes I survived."

She's looking at me like she wants to ask more. Like she wants to touch them. Trace them. Learn their stories.

The thought of her hands on my skin makes my chest tight.

I need to leave. Need to get out of this doorway before I do something stupid.

"Lola? What you saw... I know it's a lot. The scars. The evidence of what I am. What I've done. If it scared you..."

"It didn't scare me."

The words come fast. Too fast. Too honest.

And I see it again in her eyes. That flash of want before she can hide it.

She's attracted to me. Really attracted. Not confused. Not grateful.

Attracted.

"Good," I hear myself say. "That's... good."

What the f**k am I doing? Why did I say that?

I leave before I can make it worse. Before I can say something that crosses the line we can't uncross.

Back in my office, I pour whiskey. Down it. Pour another.

Daniel walks in without knocking. Takes one look at me and sighs.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You're drinking at three in the afternoon. Something happened."

I shouldn't tell him. Should keep this to myself. But I need someone to talk sense into me.

"Lola walked in on me. After my shower. I was in a towel."

Daniel's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And she looked at me like..." I can't finish the sentence. "Like she wanted me. And I wanted her back. And this is a f*****g disaster."

"Okay." Daniel sits down. Processing. "So the attraction is mutual now."

"It was always mutual. I've just been ignoring it. But today, seeing the way she looked at me..." I run my hand through my still-damp hair. "I can't ignore it anymore."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing. I'm going to do nothing. I'm going to maintain distance. Keep our relationship professional. Ignore these feelings until they go away."

"You think they're going to go away?"

"They have to."

"Why?"

"Because she's twenty-three! Because she's traumatized! Because the power dynamic makes this impossible!" I'm on my feet now. Pacing. "Because I'm a criminal twice her age who killed people and ruined lives and she deserves so much better than me!"

"Does she get a say in that?"

"No. Because she doesn't know what she wants. She's confused. She thinks she's attracted to me but it's just gratitude and safety and..."

"Boss." Daniel's voice cuts through. "You're making a lot of decisions for her. Assuming you know what she feels better than she does."

"I'm protecting her."

"From what? From being attracted to someone? From having feelings? From potentially being happy?"

"From making a mistake she'll regret."

Daniel is quiet for a moment. Then: "What if it's not a mistake?"

"It is."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know me. I know what I am. I'm not good for her. I'm not good for anyone."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Daniel leans forward. "You're one of the most honorable men I know. You have a code. You protect people. You saved Lola's life. You're treating her with respect and kindness. You're helping her heal. That's not a bad man."

"I've killed people, Daniel."

"In this life. In self-defense or to protect others. That's different from being cruel. From being abusive. From being Ethan."

The name sits heavy in the air.

"She's his ex-wife," I say quietly. "My son's ex-wife. That alone makes this wrong."

"Ethan gave up any claim to her when he divorced her. When he tried to have her killed. You saved her. You married her. She's your wife now. Not his."

"On paper."

"Is it though? Just on paper?" Daniel's voice is gentle. "Because from where I'm sitting, you two have been building something real. The dinners. The conversations. The way you look at each other. That's not a business arrangement anymore."

He's right. I know he's right.

But admitting it means acknowledging these feelings. Means acting on them. Means risking hurting Lola if this goes wrong.

"I can't," I say. "I can't risk her. She's been through enough. If I pursue this and it doesn't work out, if I hurt her somehow, I'd never forgive myself."

"And if you don't pursue it? If you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been? Can you live with that?"

I don't answer. Can't answer.

Because I don't know.

All I know is that Lola looked at me today with want in her eyes. And I wanted her back so badly it physically hurt.

And I don't know how to be near her now without thinking about it. Without wanting more.

"Just... be careful," Daniel finally says. "Whatever you decide. Be careful with her. And with yourself."

He leaves. I sit at my desk, staring at nothing.

Distance. That's what I need. Space from Lola until these feelings fade. Until I can see her as just a responsibility again.

Except I have dinner with her in four hours.

And the thought of canceling makes my chest ache.

Because despite everything, despite all the reasons this is wrong, despite the age gap and the trauma and the impossibility of it all...

I want to see her. Want to talk to her. Want to hear about her day and make her smile and pretend for just a few hours that this could be real.

That we could be real.

"You're f****d," I tell myself. "Completely fucked."

Because I'm falling for Lola. Maybe already have fallen.

And I don't know how to stop.

Don't know if I even want to anymore.

But I know I need to. For her sake if not mine.

So I'll go to dinner. I'll be polite. Professional. I'll maintain distance.

And I'll ignore the way my heart races when she walks into a room. The way my hands itch to touch her. The way I think about her constantly.

I'll ignore all of it.

Because the alternative is pursuing something that could destroy us both.

And I won't risk her. Won't risk the fragile peace she's found. Won't risk her healing.

Even if it means denying myself what I want most.

She's worth the sacrifice.

She's worth everything.