And here he wondered if she might sleep with him? He probably had a better chance with Beck outside. “And yet you give your dad more money so he never hits rock bottom?”
Her lip trembled in a way that made him want to put his arm around her. And, though he hated to admit it, it also made his pants feel tight. “I know, and that’s why I’m a fraud,” she said. “I shouldn’t be leading those meetings. My friends would be so disappointed if they knew the truth.”
He put down his beer and reached for her hand, wanting to make her feel better. Damn, her skin was soft. Surely it was no different than another woman’s, but for some reason it felt like velvet in his hands. “Last I checked, you weren’t nominated for a sainthood, so don’t worry if the halo doesn’t fit. Maybe you should stop worrying about helping your friends, and concentrate on helping yourself.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do, Kate. You’ve always known. Stop giving your father money. He has to hit his lowest point before he can get better.”
“The problem is, I’m afraid his rock bottom will only come with him at a cemetery. He should have hit his lowest point years ago.”
He brushed a hand against her cheek. “Why do you say that?”
She looked at him, her eyes now brimming with tears. “My mother died because of him. If he didn’t hit rock bottom over that, he won’t change just because I cut him off.”
He caught one of her tears as it trailed her cheek. “How did she die?”
“She killed herself.”
Fuck. Maybe the beer had rendered him overly sympathetic, but out of nowhere waves of sorrow began to wash over Liam, making him feel as if he were drowning in a vast ocean. “Oh, Jesus, Kate. I’m so sorry.” He gathered her into his arms and held her. She didn’t fight back and laid her head against his chest. It felt right there. He ran a hand over her soft hair, gathering her ponytail into his hand and fingering the silky mane.
“It happened ten years ago, but it feels like last week. She’d put up with my dad’s gambling since I was a kid, had begged him to stop until she was hoarse. When I was at college, he lost everything, cleared out my mom’s accounts, threw it all away. She’d begged so many bank managers for leniency, had borrowed so much money from family members and friends. The shame was just too much. She took a bunch of painkillers one night, and left a note saying she wanted it all to go away.”
Kate’s shoulders trembled in his arms. “And you know what he said to me when he found out? He said, ‘Katie-bug, I can’t believe she’d do such a thing after all the good years I gave her.’”
Liam said nothing. What could you say to that?
“I still feel sick when I think about it. Right after he said it, I must have spent the next hour crouched over the toilet. I puked my guts up every night for a week afterward. And my dad just kept on betting. He didn’t even come to the funeral. It made my skin crawl, to see him so diseased.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I just couldn’t look him in the face anymore. My mom supported him their whole married life. She dug him out of every hole. And when he’d finally broken her, he still didn’t snap out of it. I don’t want my friend Lisa to end up the same way.”
“I’m sure she won’t. She has you.”
“My mom had me, too.” She let out a bitter laugh and swallowed back a huge gulp of beer. “What good am I? Lisa says she admires me, but she has no idea I still enable my dad.”
He grasped her by the shoulders. “Then justify Lisa’s faith in you. Right here. Right now.”
She blinked away a few more tears. She reached inside her handbag and produced a bank card and a small pair of craft scissors. “This card is how I leave him money. Will you cut up the card for me?”
“No. But I’ll hold it while you cut it up.”
She gazed at him, unsure. Liam offered her an encouraging grin and held the card out for her.
“Go on, Kate.”
With a nod, she positioned the scissors and cut straight through the plastic. Half of the card dropped on the table with an anticlimactic tap. Liam picked it up and she did it again to both halves.
She looked up at him as she put the scissors back in her bag, pale, but clearly relieved. Like the weight of the world, or at least a good sized chunk of it, had been taken of her shoulders.
“I’m proud of you.”
“I’ve been carrying those damn scissors around for months, trying to get up the courage.” She let out a quiet but shaky laugh. “I don’t think I could have done it without your help.”
His chest swelled with pride at that. He couldn’t have felt better if he’d discovered fire. “This calls for another beer.”
She smiled. “I’d like that. But you’d better make mine a cranberry juice. I’ve had enough excitement for one evening.”
