children.’
‘Ah.’
‘Not that she had any intention of being a mother. She told me that she’d pop a kid out for me but had no intention of raising it. Since I knew exactly what it was like, being raised by a parade of nannies and au-pairs, I knew that I wanted my kids to have a mother.’
She heard the thinly disguised pain in his voice and wished she could soothe it away.
‘I realised a long time ago that I wasn’t cut out for the picket fence and two-point-four kids.’
Oh, Luke. You are so made to have a family. Instead of the words she wanted to say, she asked, ‘Why not?’
This was the trouble with smoky bars with low lighting and cool, vibey music. Confessions and confidences tended to flow.
‘I think to have a successful family you have to be part of one.’
‘I don’t know that I agree with you,’ Jess said, moving her hand across his. ‘Do you think you’d feel differently if your mother hadn’t passed away when you were so young?’
Luke wondered whether he should tell her or not...after all it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t talked about, but it was not a secret. For the first time in his life he actively wanted to share this information with someone...wanted her to know a little piece of his soul. Normally that would terrify him, but in this warm bar, with soft music, a couple of drinks under his belt and a gorgeous woman looking at him with tender eyes, he couldn’t keep the words from spilling out. Tomorrow he might regret it...
‘No, I don’t think anything would’ve been different. My mother—a fairly moody creature, from what I hear—bailed out on me when I was three and got herself killed in a car accident a couple of days later. And my father was fickle, selfish and changed women like he changed clothes. Kids raised in a dysfunctional home do not have functional adult relationships and families. Basic psychology.’
‘That’s such nonsense—but back up a moment.’ Jess frowned. ‘Your mother left you?’
‘She had suitcases full of clothes and personal possessions in her car when she crashed. Nothing of mine.’ Luke felt the muscle tick in his jaw and closed his eyes. It had happened over thirty years ago—why did it still sting? Why did he still wonder what she’d needed, wanted from her life that had made her step out of the marriage, away from him? Freedom? Another man? And would he ever stop wondering what he’d done that had made his mother leave him instead of taking him with her?
He’d been three, for goodness’ sake...even he couldn’t have been that bad.
Jess shook her head and covered his hand with both of hers. She had a look on her face that Luke had come to recognise as stubbornness. ‘Who told you that she’d left you behind? And when?’
‘My father...all my life.’ Luke shoved his hand into his hair. ‘It was his standard way of ending a conversation—No wonder your mother left you... Fill in the blanks. Can’t catch a ball, make the swim team, come first in class.’
Jess’s mouth fell open in shock, and anger sparked in her eyes. ‘That’s...diabolical.’
‘That was my father.’
Jess’s eyes flashed. ‘That’s child abuse.’
Luke felt sparks jump in his stomach at her defence.
‘How did you manage to become so successful, so together, so strong after having that constantly fed to you?’
Because he’d been too damn stubborn and too proud to let his father win.
‘And, I’m sorry. I don’t believe your mother left you. I saw that photo of you and her in your bedroom—the look on her face as she looked at you. Nope, I don’t buy it,’ Jess said, her voice saturated with conviction. ‘She loved you...there has to be another explanation.’
Luke wished there was. But his mother was long dead and, as much as he appreciated Jess taking up the cudgels on his behalf, he knew that to think about his mother was useless and self-defeating. If he considered other scenarios he risked reopening old wounds.
He’d tried marriage. It had been a failure. Losing his dream of having a family of his own had hurt a lot more than losing his wife, but he’d come to terms with the idea that St Sylve would not be home to dirty kids running wild.
Knowing his mother’s motives wouldn’t change that. It was in the past and he couldn’t change what had happened.
‘What happened to your mom’s things?’ Jess leaned forward, her arms on the table.
‘According to my father