love for my mother. “I understand. Even though I wasn’t expecting him, the day I got Henry has turned into the happiest day for me.”
“Children do that. You were so precious to me. We tried, but we never got blessed with another.” Then she shook her head. “I used to love to gaze at this photo. To remember how happy your father and I were then, and we were happy. At least I was. I always thought your father was. But now I look at it and I feel sick. It was all a lie.”
“Why did you leave the picture on the floor, Mom?”
“That’s where I threw it.”
“Why didn’t you throw it out?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to. I was ready to pick it up and hurl it into the nearest trash can.”
“And…?”
“Instead I left it on the floor.” She shrugged her shoulders lightly. “I don’t know why. Maybe I wasn’t quite ready to let it go.”
“Let go of what? Dad’s dead.”
“Let go of the memory of what we had.” She sighed. “Or rather, what I had. I have no idea what he thought we had. I thought I knew him so well, and now… He was the loving husband and father who went off and did unspeakable things.”
“I know. All those business trips when I was young.”
“He was an attorney then, before he was mayor. He had some high-profile clients. It made sense that he’d travel. I never thought to question any of it. How could I have been so naïve?”
“We were both naïve.”
“You were a child, Bryce. This isn’t on you.”
“Mom, I haven’t been a child for the last twenty years. This is on me too.”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” she said.
“I could give you the same advice.” I took the photo from her. “What do you want me to do with this?”
She looked to the ceiling for at least a minute, seemingly lost in thought. Then she met my gaze. “Throw out the frame and the broken glass. Keep the picture. Hide it in a book somewhere. I know it’s ridiculous, but although I don’t want to see it, I can’t bear to part with it.”
“I understand.” I walked to the crib, leaned down, and kissed my sleeping son lightly on his forehead. “I’ll take care of this, and then I’m going out for a while.”
“At this hour?”
“Yeah. Just back to Joe’s. He has some information I need.”
“All right. I love you, honey.”
I kissed my mother’s cheek. “Love you too, Mom.”
Chapter Forty–Five
Marjorie
Colin stared at his lap for seconds that seemed like hours. Jade seemed to feel sorry for him, and I knew I should as well. He’d been to hell and back, but so had my brother. So had all of us in our own way, and his time to talk was running out. I had no idea how long Talon would allow him in this house. He could storm out of the office any minute and demand Colin leave, and he’d be well within his rights.
Still, I waited for Jade to make the first move.
And I waited.
Until I could wait no longer.
“We’re waiting, Colin,” I said.
He messed with his sleeve again.
“What’s wrong?” Jade asked.
“I got a tattoo on my forearm. It itches.”
“What did you get?” She leaned slightly forward.
“It’s bandaged up. But it’s…nothing really.”
Yeah. He got a tattoo. Who cared? “We’re waiting,” I said again.
He finally met my gaze. “Would you believe me if I told you I have no idea what my father’s up to?”
“Not even slightly. Jade?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”
“Jade, we spent seven years together,” he said. “You know me.”
“The Colin I knew was committed to me. He wouldn’t have run off and left me at the altar. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me?”
“There are things you don’t know,” he said, looking down at his lap again.
“You’re lying,” I said.
“I’m not.”
“You looked down. It’s a classic tell. You left because you were selfish. If you had second thoughts, you should have discussed them with Jade beforehand. For God’s sake, you could have told her the day before and spared her the embarrassment. You could have called it off together, made it look mutual. You deserted her, Colin.”
“Marj…” Jade entwined her fingers.
“Sorry. I know it all turned out for the best. You and Talon belong together, but that doesn’t make what he did okay.”
This time Colin met my gaze. “There are things you don’t know,” he said again.
“Really? Spill them, then. And while you’re at it, you can