Their daughter had made up for the lack by proving herself more than capable of taking over whenever the time comes.
With the meal finished and dessert, a delectable raspberry mousse Andre had made just this morning before leaving for court, he poured coffee and sat back to watch the blue jay darting from one tree to the next. He had set a bird feeder out, conscientiously remembering to fill it when it became empty.
This was his own slice of paradise. The loft was comfortable and not too showy. The most important thing was the privacy.
Abigail glanced around the space, appreciating the subtle touches that made the space uniquely Andre's: the antique clock ticking softly in the corner, the stack of legal journals beside the window, and the framed photograph of their family from a summer long past.
She felt a sense of gratitude for these moments, knowing that whatever uncertainties lay ahead, their bond remained a constant anchor. The evening light filtered in, casting a warm glow on the table and making everything seem a little more hopeful.
"It's going to be fine." Her brother's quiet voice rang with conviction, and she found herself wondering fleetingly just how much he sounded like he was in the courtroom making his case. "Besides, you don't know if he's even here to stay."
"There's a rumor floating around that he got into some trouble with an opera singer in Italy." Her lips curled in disgust. "That's not the kind of man I want around my daughter."
"I hate to point out the obvious, but my darling niece has two parents." He sipped wine and eyed her stubborn expression over the rim. "And one day she's going to want to know about theother half. She's a smart girl who happens to look very much like her daddy."
He lifted a hand, anticipating her argument. "And he's her father, whether you like it or not."
"Donating his sperm doesn't make him a father," she countered tightly. "My daughter is better off without him. Has been and will be."
"Now that he's back, you're bound to run into him."
"We don't run in the same circles." Ignoring his raised brows, she picked up her cup and gulped coffee. "Not usually."
"Be prepared to see him, honey. As well as for the fact that nothing remains a secret for very long."
*****
The topic of such heated discussion was just shrugging on his shirt in readiness to go down to supper when his door was pushed open.
"I would think you're old enough to know that when a door is closed, you're required to knock." He was only just mildly irritated when his sister came right in and plopped down on the bed.
"You look the same."
He cast her a mild look as he buttoned his shirt.
"You expected me to look different?"
Tilting her head to the side, Katherine studied the face that looked so much like hers. Dark hair tumbled in an appealing way over his forehead. He had spent five years hopping from country to country, but his looks were still dazzling.
It had been five years since he was home and she missed him. And he looked a little sad. She was not used to seeing him like that. Her brother had always been fun-loving and a daredevil.
What had happened to him in Italy had taken most of it away.
"I'm sorry about, you know." She shrugged helplessly when he pinned her with his laser blue gaze.
"You're allowed to say it, Kat." He turned to slip on his watch and gave his image a brief glance. Dragging long fingers through his thick dark hair would serve as an attempt to tame it. "I made a royal mess of things."
He had miscalculated and that was something he had to live with. He had been careless with another's emotions and was paying the price. They both were.
Thankfully, the other person was on the road to recovering, but the paparazzi had gleefully printed the gruesome details. It had sobered him up and made him realize that he needed a change from his normal pace.
Regret flickered across his features, quickly masked by a wry smile. "Coming home was supposed to be a fresh start," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it turns out, you can't outrun your past, not even by crossing oceans."
She rose gracefully and crossed to stand in front of him. "You were not to blame," she told him firmly. "Knowing you, you no doubt told her that you were not in the long-term thing." She cupped his stubbled cheek when he winced. "And that's being honest. Nothing is wrong with that."
Placing his hand over hers lightly, he met her gaze. "You're making excuses for me that I made for myself countless times. Itdoesn't change the fact that she took those pills because of me. She tried to end her life because I told her it was over."
"She could have died, and it would have been due to my careless frivolity and the fact that I cannot commit, am unable to stick to a relationship or anything for that matter."
