Whenever she went, she was always depressed for days afterward, and I knew Janice, in particular, always trod very carefully around her, knowing that the missus, as Irish born Janice called Anna, was in a precarious mood at that time of the month.
It seemed incongruent to me that she’d brought me in, had been kind to me even, when she was capable of making her son suffer the folly of his brother, so was it all a façade?
Anna’s way of offsetting her continued loyalty to Cain by homing a poor orphan who was a poster child for Team U.S.A?
I was already starting to attract small stories in the press. My winning streak catching the eye of the people who monitored these things in the buildup to the Olympics… Anna was many things, and shrewd was one of them.
Plucking at my bottom lip, I whispered, “This isn’t fair.”
His shoulders sagged, and I wasn’t sure what he’d expected to hear from me, but I couldn’t tell if his reaction meant he was relieved or more upset by my response to his words.
“No, it isn’t fair.” He stared at me in a way that made me think of a child looking through a toy store window, dreaming about gifts they’d never receive.
Because that analogy reminded me of me when I was a kid, I bit my lip and crossed over to the bed. Since I didn’t know what else to say, I whispered, “Momma isn’t dead.”
He froze, and I ducked my head, hunching my shoulders.
“She killed herself,” he stated, his tone sure, even though I saw the sudden doubt in his expression.
“No. I went to this town...” Rubbing my temple where the ache had stopped gathering and was like a lead weight now, I whispered, “I grew up there. Well, it’s where my nanny lived. We moved around a lot.”
“Why did you go back, love?”
Love.
So painful an endearment in the face of what he’d just told me.
I wasn’t a fool. I’d known there was a reason why he’d done what he had. Why he’d cut himself off from me like I was contaminated all of a sudden. What hurt was that he hadn’t been the one to share that with me, that he’d evaded me and avoided me for months, but, in his defense, it didn’t change anything, did it?
Sure, it validated that our bond was real and true, as much as it had ever been.
But he was still married.
To a cheating octopus.
If Maria was pregnant again, and Adam said they didn’t have a regular marriage… I had to assume she’d cheated. But, dear God, how could she cheat on him? Adam was beautiful and such a good man. I hated her even more—and before today, that hadn’t seemed like it was even possible.
As I stared at my sneakers, I whispered, “I was lucky. Lavinia was my grandmother’s friend. She’s dying, and that’s pretty much the only reason she told me the truth.” I blew out a breath. “Father used to beat Momma. I mean, I knew that. I have wispy memories of it, vague ones, but she killed him protecting me and her. She’s in jail, Adam.”
He gaped at me, then staggered over to the bed which jostled under his weight as he settled at my side. His arm came up like it always had before, and I nestled into my spot, pushing my face into his throat, slipping my arm around his waist to hold him close.
I could hear his heart, could feel his heat, and nothing had felt better in years.
Not even the water.
“I love you,” I whispered miserably, knowing I was stupid for saying the words, for telling him that, but unable to withhold it.
“God, Thea, I love you too.” He pressed his finger to my chin, lifted it, then whispered, “I love you so much,” as he stared straight into my eyes—no lies, no bullshit. Just hard truth.
Cold fact.
But nothing was cold about the look we were sharing.
Nothing.
I shivered as he pressed his mouth to mine, gently at first, like I remembered. It was beautiful. Heaven. Like I’d been under water all this time, like only now, I was coming up for air.
But nothing could stay the same when everything had changed.
Just like downstairs, his kiss had morphed. No longer chaste. It was needy.
He needed me.
I needed him.
His life had gone to shit before he’d even hit eighteen, and he was stuck with a woman who was cheating on him.