“Liv was definitely a good mom,” he said carefully, not quite sure what was on Erin’s mind.
She nodded slowly. “Sure sounds like it.” Her expressionseemed unguarded in a way he hadn’t seen it before. “I was just thinking about other people I’ve known who sucked at parenting and still get chances to do it over again. I’m sorry your wife did her best and didn’t get that second chance.”
Something about the way she said the words made him think he’d learned something personal about her. Yet, she’d already told him she didn’t have children of her own.
“There’s a hell of a lot of things in life that aren’t fair.” He looked at their hands propped next to each other on the railing. Her thin silver bracelets glinted next to his shirtsleeve. “But you sound like you’ve got someone in mind.”
He didn’t ask who since she’d been kind enough not to pin him down about Liv’s death. He figured she’d talk about it when she was good and ready. Not that he was planning on…hedefinitelywasn’t planning on sticking around beyond this week to get to know her better.
“A crappy ex-boyfriend who never told me he had kids.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe there are people so shallow in this world that they’d rather cheat on their spouse and spend time with a lover than be with their family. I mean, why have a family if you’re only going to ignore them?”
She turned to him with anguish in her eyes, which he’d been totally unprepared for. And that wasn’t the only thing that surprised him.
“Your boyfriend was married?”
“Right.” She nodded, her expression closing again. “Forgot to mention that part, as did he. But what killed me most is that he hadchildrenhe was ignoring to be with me while I thought he was single and stupidly waiting around for a proposal.” Her laugh was sharp and humorless. “As if I’d ever want to be with someone who is a selfish,pathological liar.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I had only one beer tonight. But I am going to use that as an excuse for my sudden bout of chattiness. I’m so sorry to?—”
“Don’t. Please don’t apologize to me.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her face. “I told you I’m the King of Awkward around you, and I meant it. But I’ve been more awkward around the rest of the world for the last two years, and I’ve got to admit it’s been—” he searched for the right word “—refreshingto talk to you and not feel like you’re cringing for me with every word I say.”
“All cringing is on my own behalf, I assure you.” She untwined her wrist from his grip and jammed her fist into her pocket again. “I’m embarrassed over the choices I made this year, so I don’t have a clue what possessed me to share any of that with you tonight while you’ve got something so traumatic of your own you’re trying to deal with.”
They sat together while the music played and the spring breeze turned cooler. Now and then, he could hear shouts from kids running through the woods, and he relaxed to think that Sarah was one of them. Maybe it was because Erin didn’t ask about Liv the way so many other people did. Or maybe it was the bluegrass band sliding into an old zydeco tune that brought Remy back to another time and place. But something about the moment made him offer freely the truth he rarely ever spoke.
“My wife was murdered in a home invasion.” He knew—no matter what family counselors and grief counselors and even Sarah’s school guidance counselor liked to say—that admission would never get easier. It still ripped his chest raw to say it. To think about it. “That’s the reason I’m still grappling with her death two years later. The reason I was freaked-out that first night we met when I couldn’t get a cell signal. I needed to call Sarah to check on her because when I can’t get in touch with her I can get—scared.”
Erin’s shocked expression was about what he’d come to expect, but there was an honesty about it. Unlike some people who already knew what had happened to Liv and asked him about it just to—he didn’t know the reason—to pry? To search for more details than what had been in the papers? Erin obviously didn’t have an inkling about what had happened.
“I’m—” Her voice cracked on a hoarse note. “I’m so sorry. And stunned. I had no idea.”
He nodded. Accepted her words of sympathy. “Thank you. I’m telling you because I know what it’s like to be drop-kicked by life and left sprawled on the floor.” He’d had days he could hardly move let alone think, function, care for Sarah. “I’m still trying to find my way, for Sarah’s sake more than my own.”
“And yet you lost so much, too.” Erin hugged her arms around her tighter, making him realize how cool the evening had gotten since they’d been out here.
“I should have been there.” He knew where the blame rested for Liv’s death. He could have made a thousand different choices that would have insured she was still alive. For six months straight after her death, he’d run through them all in a litany of regrets most nights before he fell asleep. “The break-in happened while I was traveling for work.”
Liv had insisted he keep the job even after her perfumes had started attracting international attention. She liked the quiet, she said.
Unwilling to dwell in the past, he dropped to his feet, sliding off the rail. He held a hand out for Erin to do the same. “We should head back so I can find Sarah.”
It made him uneasy that—even as they were talking about Liv—he thought about what it would be like to step closer and slide his hands around Erin’s waist. To lift her up and off until she stood in the circle of his arms again.
“You couldn’t have possibly known.” Erin took his hand briefly, just long enough to find her footing on the wooden bridge.
She turned to head back to the village square, but Remy’s feet remained rooted to the spot.
“I did, though.” It had to be the darkness that made the confessions easier. Or maybe two years had simply been long enough for him to choke on that truth by himself. “I knew that Sarah’s felon father was resentful of the home I built for Liv and the life I tried to provide for her. It was only a matter of time before one of his convict friends got out and targeted a wealthy woman on a remote piece of property.”
This time, Erin didn’t try arguing with him. No doubt because she understood why he blamed himself.
She laid a hand on his forearm and drew him forward.
“You couldn’t have known,” she repeated. “Thank God Sarah wasn’t hurt.” She squeezed him arm hard. Once. Twice. “I’ll help you find her.”
Remy let her tug him along, her swift strides all business as they headed back to the party. No tearful nodding and patting him on the back that only made him feel pathetic. Every day that passed made him like Erin more.
And maybe that was the real reason he’d revealed the truth about his dead wife tonight. It didn’t have anything to do with Erin being easy to talk to, or wanting to put them back on even footing after she’d shared something personal with him.
No. He’d told her the truth to push her away. To clueher in to how much baggage he carried around and how ill equipped he was for a relationship. His head and his heart were still in the past. This way, Erin would know that he was a mental and emotional mess before they shared any more dances or long looks or accidental brushing of hands. Remy had figured out how to laugh again since his wife had died. How to do his job without the crippling sense of loss stealing hours of time and productivity.
