Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,75
anymore.
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“WHY DIDN’T YOU EVER tell me the truth, Mom?” Darby squeezed her mother’s hand on the bench beside her. The front porch of her parents’ modest home was finally empty except for the two of them. The rest of her family—her father, her brothers and sisters, their wives, husbands, children—had all rushed over in an impromptu family reunion when they found out the prodigal daughter had returned.
Not one of them had judged her, or berated her for having ignored them for over a decade.
Her mother gave her a watery smile. “It took years of therapy just to get you to talk again after falling into that well. The doctors said not to push, not to try to get you to tell us anything, that you’d tell us in your own time, on your own terms.”
Darby shook her head. “All these years, I thought no one looked for me. I made up my own story, that I’d climbed out of the well on my own. That no one came for me.” She looked at the little white lines on her fingers.
Her mother smoothed the lines. “You tried to climb out but you couldn’t. Your daddy is the one who found you. You’d wandered off miles into the woods.”
“It must have all been a dream, terrible and wonderful at the same time. I dreamed I was with Grandma, and I wandered off. But Grandma—”
“Died a year before you fell down that well.”
Darby stared out at the cars lined up and down the street. She was surrounded by love. She’d always been loved and had never realized it. She’d been blind to what she had, and had never known what she’d lost.
Until now.
Darby wasn’t wealthy, but she had plenty of money. Her parents had far less than her, yet they were far happier than she’d ever been. The misery Darby remembered wasn’t misery because of how little they had. It was their misery that their daughter couldn’t be happy, that she had withdrawn from her own family and had built a fake world to retreat into so she could cope.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I know.”
The front yard began to fill with her family. One by one they drifted from the backyard, giving her tentative smiles, standing in groups or watching the children play.
Darby’s oldest brother leaned down and kissed his wife.
Darby’s heart squeezed in her chest.
“Honey,” her mother said, “you have to stop blaming yourself. Everything turned out fine. You’re here now. Today is a happy day.”
“I know I should be grateful. And I am, but so much has happened, so much you don’t know about.” She gave her mother a fierce hug, then pulled back. “Did you hear about that warehouse explosion over a week ago?”
“Where the assistant district attorney was killed?”
Darby swallowed hard. “Yes. That was an awful day. And I was there.” She began to tell the story, starting with the moment Rafe Morgan had burst into her office. As she spoke, her family gathered closer, listening with rapt attention. Halfway through, her mom gave her an odd look and went inside the house.
“Go on,” Darby’s father urged her. “What happened next?”
By the time Darby finished telling everything, her mother was back on the porch, and there wasn’t a dry eye in her entire family, except for Darby. She’d cried so much she didn’t think she had a drop of moisture left for even one more tear.
Her father pulled her into a tight hug. “You’re lucky to be alive, young lady.”
Darby hugged him back. “I know. Rafe saved me.”
Her mother shoved in between them and cupped Darby’s face in her hands. “Answer me one question. Are you in love with Detective Rafe Morgan?”
Darby’s face heated and she glanced at her family gathered around her.
“Mom, I can’t—”
“Do you love him? One simple question, young lady. I could hear it in your voice the entire time you were telling your story. The answer is obvious to me and everyone else, but you need to admit it to yourself.”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. He doesn’t love me.”
“Darby.”
“Yes, yes, okay? Yes, I’m in love with a man who doesn’t love me.”
Her mother grinned and stepped to the side. “Everyone, move out of the way.” Her mother waved them back.
“Mom, what are you...” Darby gasped and her hand flew to her throat.
Rafe stood at the bottom of the steps, his right arm in a sling, staring up at her. Now she knew why her mom had gone inside. She’d meddled, had called Rafe.