“I’m great. Need to use the restroom, that’s all,” she lied, hurrying to toss her bag on the bedroom floor then running into the bathroom before her mother could stop her.
She shut the door, then turned around and slid to the floor, finally letting the tears fall that had threatened all morning. She hated crying, especially since she’d probably cried more lately than most people cried an entire lifetime. But it seemed to be the only outlet for her tumultuous emotions. Admitting to her mom that she was more upset over the way the relationship between her and Bryson had ended than the fact that a killer was still out there wasn’t something she was keen about. Especially since the so-called relationship had never really begun in the first place. It wasn’t real, none of this. It couldn’t be. They hadn’t even dated. So how could she possibly be in love with him? It wasn’t love. It was lust, and shared trauma. In a few weeks, or months, this ache deep in her soul would be gone and she’d forget all about Bryson Anton.
Now if only she could convince her heart of that brazen lie, she’d be just fine.
After crying for a ridiculously long time, she actually felt better. She blew out a shuddering breath, then climbed to her feet. The mirror above the sink was not her friend. Her eyes were puffy and red. Her hair was escaping her customary braid. And her makeup was a disaster.
Thankfully, her mom and dad wouldn’t care about her makeup. But they would care if they realized she’d been sitting in here crying for the past ten minutes. She grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink and washed her face, scrubbing off all of the makeup she’d painstakingly applied in the hotel bathroom. Not that Bryson had noticed. Her throat tightened.Good grief. Stop it, Teagan. He’s not worth it.She lifted her gaze to the mirror and shook her head. Maybe if she kept lying to herself, she’d eventually believe the lies.
Straightening her shoulders, she drew a bracing breath and headed off to find her parents. Her mom smiled at her from the archway into the kitchen.
“Teagan, baby. Finally you’re home.” Her mom tossed a dishcloth onto the countertop and wrapped her arms around her.
“It’s so good to be here. I missed you and Daddy so much.” After a good long hug, she let her mom go and glanced around the kitchen. “It smells amazing in here. Did you cook all my favorites?” She crossed to the stove and bent down to smell the tantalizing aroma rising from the huge pot. “Jambalaya. You’re the best, Mom.”
“There’s apple pie baking in the oven. It’ll be ready by the time we finish supper.”
She turned around to hug her mom again, then froze. Bryson was leaning against the wall beside the table at the other end of the kitchen, looking like a model out of a magazine in his charcoal gray tailored suit.
He straightened away from the wall and smiled. “Hello, Teagan.”
“What...what are you doing here?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to be on your way to the airport.”
“I wanted to pay my respects to your parents and they invited me to dinner. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Well, of course I mind.” She put her hands on her hips. “You need to leave.”
“Teagan Ray,” her mother chided her. “That’s not how we treat our guests, especially your fiancé.”
“He’s not—”
“Teagan!” Her father had just stepped inside from the backyard, holding a pitcher of sun tea that her mom must have had steeping on the porch table. Behind him, Zeus lay on the grass, sunning himself. Her father’s mouth widened in a broad smile. “Your mom said you were finally home. Come over here and give dear old dad a hug.” He nodded at Bryson, apparently unsurprised to see him, and set the jug on the table.
She reluctantly stepped into his embrace, glaring at Bryson over her father’s shoulder. This farce had to end now. No way was she going to sit through dinner pretending everything was okay. When he let her go, she moved back beside her mother.
“Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“You can relax,” Bryson said. “I already told them.”
Her jaw dropped open. “You told them?” She glanced from her mom to her dad. “Neither of you look furious with me. What exactly did he tell you?”
Her mom pressed a kiss against her cheek. “The truth. That you were never engaged, that you weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. He explained how you told the hospital you were his fiancée so you could be in on his care plan, which I think is really sweet. I was just teasing you a minute ago about being engaged. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She blinked at her mom, then shot Bryson a confused look. “What did he tell you about why I said that he was my boyfriend?”
“Heis standing right here and can speak for himself,” Bryson teased, sounding lighthearted, which had her even more confused after everything that had happened. “I explained thatyou didn’t want them to worry about you because of the bad breakup with your ex. You wanted to protect them, to keep them from thinking you hadn’t moved on in your life.”
“You said that?” she whispered, her throat tight.
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
She slowly nodded. “I still don’t understand why you’re here. You should be on the plane.”
He stepped toward her, his limp barely noticeable. Then, to her complete and utter shock, he took both her hands in his.
“I couldn’t leave with things the way they are between us,” he said. “I need to explain why I’ve been a complete and utter jerk since waking up in recovery.”
Her chin wobbled, and to her horror she realized she still had tears left to shed. She furiously blinked them back and glanced at her parents, who were both avidly watching without making any pretense at not trying to listen. She leaned forward, lowering her voice, even though she was certain they could still hear. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
