a great person, Blake Smith. One of the very best. But I’ve done a lot of growing up these past six years. A lot of soul searching. I’ve engaged in some pretty brutally intense self-examination and I know myself a whole lot better than I did when I married you. My father’s suicide, my mother’s single-minded dedication to the church as a result, left their marks on me.”
Annie looked Blake straight in the eye. It felt good to be telling him this. As if maybe she was helping him, freeing him of any responsibility he might have felt for the failures in their relationship.
“I’m not going to live my life as a victim,” she continued, speaking straight from the heart. “I’m not going to blame my parents’ choices for any aspect of my own life. What I can do is offer myself understanding and acceptance, and change what I can and work with what I can’t.
“I know that I need a lot of love and support. I need words and gestures and all the little moments of love. I need to be able to express my feelings openly and often. That’s who I’ve turned out to be. And I’m okay with that.”
He was watching her, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, saying nothing. But the guarded look in his eyes was gentle.
“You, on the other hand,” she continued, taking a step closer, “have been shaped by your own life. Your parents dying while you were so young… Being raised by a man who never told you how much he cared about you…”
“He cared.”
“I know he did. But Alan never once told you so. And that had an effect on you—you’re just like him, Blake. Reticent. Withdrawn, when it comes to anything dealing with emotion.”
His “yeah” sounded almost like “so?” Annie’s heart fell, though there was no reason for it to have done so. She was only verbalizing the conclusion they’d both reached separately.
“Your way of life makes me feel a little locked up, emotionally.”
There. She’d said it. Clearly. Simply.
“I know that,” Blake said, but the tone of his voice, or maybe the look in his eyes, left her feeling as if there was more to be said. Or rather, more that he wasn’t saying.
Her first instinct was to call him on it. And then she gave herself a shake. Blake’s thoughts were his own affair. And an affair between the two of them was exactly what they didn’t need.
“So those are your stipulations?” Her voice sounded loud, as if she’d blurted the words just to fill a silence.
“I have one more.”
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she waited.
“I want this child conceived in the normal fashion.”
The tendrils swirled through her stomach again—and lower. Bringing a physical warmth to places down there that hadn’t been fully active since the last time she’d made love with her first husband.
Now was the moment to tell him that they didn’t have a deal. As soon as he’d finished speaking….
“I’m okay with that,” she said instead. And almost melted onto the floor at the impact of that verbal commitment. She was going to make love with Blake Smith again.
An event that, every single time, had been the best, most complete, magical and deepest experience of her life. And, in retrospect, had nearly killed her.
“WHEN?” Sweat drenched the back of Blake’s shirt with the effort it took him to remain in the doorway of his ex-wife’s beautiful nursery.
She glanced down and then back up, but her gaze skittered away from his. “I don’t know.” Kicking at a bit of fuzz on the carpet with her bare toe, she suddenly seemed less sure of herself. “As soon as possible, I guess.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
