“Because I don’t cower anymore?”
He frowned. “I never made you cower.”
For an instant she looked startled. “I never said you did.”
She crossed her arms and began to move, pacing almost the same track he had taken around the living room.
“You saved us, Drew, don’t think I don’t know that, or will ever forget it. I have come a long way, and it’s in large part because you made it possible.”
It was a pretty little speech, a sentiment she’d expressed more than once. And not so long ago it had been enough. More than enough. It had told him he’d done exactly what he’d intended. That he’d accomplished his goal. That she was stable now, strong, and he’d had a hand in that.
And it wasn’t her fault that wasn’t enough for him anymore.
“That’s what we dull, boring rocks do,” he said, using his brother’s terminology. Doug had always insisted it was a joke, but Drew had always known there was a certain amount of venom behind it. His insisting it was a joke just made Drew look touchy if he took offense. Doug had that little game down to a science.
Alyssa turned then. “There’s a lot to be said for being the rock of the family.”
Yes, she had come a long way. There was a time when she’d meant it just as Doug had, but no more. He had to give her that.
“Is there?” he asked.
“Yes. We’ve been safe, thanks to you. Back then I didn’t appreciate how important feeling safe and steady was. Now I do.”
He supposed that was something.
For a moment she just looked at him. One hand stole up to push her hair behind her right ear. She’d gotten it cut recently. He’d thought he would miss the long waves of golden blonde, but he liked this smooth shape, how it swept forward onto her cheeks, making her eyes look even bigger and bluer. He’d wondered what was behind the radical change, but had been wary to ask. Their relationship was such a minefield sometimes. She too often took a simple question as a criticism, when he never meant it that way.
But when you practically force somebody to marry you, you took what you got, he supposed.
“Thank you,” he finally said. That had to be safe enough, didn’t it?
“Thank you,” she said, “for not blaming me.”
His brows lowered in puzzlement. “Blaming you for what?”
“Luke slipping away.”
He drew back slightly. “It wasn’t your fault. He’s a smart kid, he knew when to sneak out.”
“Which brings us back to why he did it.”
Drew let out a compressed breath. “Okay. I get it. It was my fault.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I appreciate that you don’t hold your feelings about your brother against Luke.”
“Appreciate?” What an insipid, bloodless word that suddenly seemed. “I love him like he was my own.”
“I know that,” Alyssa said in that patient way of hers that worked wonders with Luke but tended to spark his temper. “I know you love him completely. But Luke needs to know his father loved him, too.”
“His father didn’t even stick around to know him.”
“That wasn’t by his choice, Drew. You know that.”
“His choices led to everything that happened. Can’t you see—”
He cut himself off when he realized he was just repeating the exact words that had started this whole thing this morning. Just like that they were back in that circular rut. He determined to make her see, and she determined to hang on to her rose-tinted memories.
And the way things were going, they could well spend the rest of their lives there, endlessly circling.
He was going to lose her. He could feel it. What they had was a facade, a construct that had served a purpose that was now accomplished, and should be demolished before it collapsed under its own weight.
They weren’t just circling each other, they were circling the drain.
Chapter 4
“Please, Mom?”
Luke’s voice had taken on the wheedling tone that made Alyssa laugh but drove Drew nuts. But he didn’t react. He knew it was because it reminded him of Doug, who had had that perfected at Luke’s age. He hated to think there was anything of Doug in this boy he thought of as his son, although he knew there likely was. It was bad enough that he looked so much like him, but any hint that he’d inherited other things worried him.
But now he made himself chalk it up to typical six-year-old behavior and not a sign of hereditary, blatant self-absorption. And he told himself the actions of a six-year-old were not a predictor of the man Luke would become.
But he had less luck telling himself that the very thing that irritated him about that tone was what made Alyssa laugh; it reminded her of the man she’d loved. Still loved. Didn’t the fact that she still wore that damned necklace that Doug had given her prove that?
“Dad? Can I?”
“Not by yourself, if that’s what you mean,” he said.
“I should say not, young man,” Alyssa said, her tone so heartfelt in its agreement that Drew felt his irritation ebb away. Luke was just a six-year-old boy who wanted something, not a fledgling narcissist.
“Well, you could come,” Luke said. “We can even walk on the sidewalk if you want,” he added generously.
“Well, now, there’s a selling point,” Drew said drily.
Alyssa laughed. She did so easily now, and Drew caught himself again remembering the days when she had been too ill, and too frightened for herself and her son to laugh at all.
Seems like we switched places, he thought. She’d blossomed, while he’d...retreated. He supposed he should be thankful she wasn’t the nudging, prying sort, or he’d lash out even more; a public display of his private pain wasn’t in his nature. Or hadn’t been, until lately.
Of course, maybe she wasn’t the nudging, prying sort because she didn’t care. She might appreciate him—yeah, he hated the word all right—but that didn’t mean she felt anything more.
“Please? He might be there already.”
Drew snapped himself out of his useless reverie. “Or he might not be at all,” he warned.
“He will be. I just know it.”
It
