What could it be? Was he an escaped convict, a murderer? He’d sworn already he didn’t have a wife or a child. “Go on. I’m listening.”
And Carter began to speak, his voice soft at first, then rising with pain and determination. As Reed listened to his heartbreaking tale of neglect, of a childhood without any love whatsoever, he ultimately understood Carter better and why he walled himself off from people and from life. No one could let him down or use him if he remained alone and apart. But what a sad way to live. Carter had so much love brimming inside him, waiting to be unleashed.
“So now you know,” said Carter when he’d finished his story. He took a deep swallow of his drink and cradled the tumbler between his hands. Hands which Reed knew from experience could be harsh and rough, or soothing and loving. He’d never met a man who was such a dichotomy.
“I never thought you were an angel. None of us walk around with untarnished halos. Stop trying to think you need to be perfect.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then help me to.” Frustrated, Reed stood to pace the room. “We’re human, we’re allowed to make mistakes.”
“My mother having children was a mistake.”
Children?“You have siblings?”
Carter nodded but said nothing further.
In order to keep the conversation going, Reed continued to ask questions. He’d already assumed from that errant text a few months ago Carter had a child in his life. Maybe he’d finally open up, and instead of giving the story like a puzzle in bits and pieces, he’d tell Reed the whole truth.
“You said you changed your name. Why?”
Carter opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, took another sip of his drink.
The small hesitation from Carter told Reed he still had unresolved issues about that subject.
“It’s okay. I’m not judging you.”
“Doesn’t matter if you are or aren’t. I’m too busy judging myself.” The empty glass dangled from his long fingers, swinging between his knees.
“Sometimes talking about things helps you feel better about them.”
“Sounds like that philosophy stuff again. Are you sure you’re not studying psychology?”
That comment hit too close to home for Reed. “Not at all. I’m letting you know I’m here for you.”
Carter let out an audible sigh, and Reed watched the internal struggle play across his face.
“Everything I did from the time I left home I did on my own. I wanted a clean start and no possible connection with my mother. To be brutally honest, I’d never wanted to see her again. But when I changed my name, I discovered I needed her one last time.”
“Did she make it difficult for you?”
Carter’s mirthless smile sent chills down Reed’s spine. “In order to change my name, I needed to know in what state my birth certificate was issued so I could get a copy. Ugliness ensued.”
Almost afraid to ask, Reed couldn’t help himself. “What happened?”
An unpleasant laugh escaped Carter. “True to form, she made it a business arrangement. I’d pay her and tell her my new name; only then would she give me the information I needed for my paperwork. I had no choice, so she ended up knowing my new name and address.” That haunted look Reed now recognized darkened Carter’s eyes. “I thought I managed to put those days and my real name behind me, but I guess that’s never really possible, is it?”
Thinking of himself, Reed had to agree. “No matter how much we try, no. I don’t believe we can ever fully escape our past. Take us for example. We couldn’t seem to.”
“I guess I have my answer.” Carter drained his glass. “You speak of us in the past tense. I guess that means we’re done.”
How quickly Carter shut down and presumed the worst; that defense mechanism of his—pretending the hurt didn’t matter—so achingly familiar to Reed. He’d used it himself for almost half his life. But no longer. He wouldn’t let Carter go without a fight.
“Is that what you assume? I thought you were smarter than that.”
Carter glanced up at him sharply, but Reed pushed on and sat down next to him on the sofa. There’d be time enough in the future for Carter to tell him everything about his past; it didn’t matter at this point. He knew what he needed to know. Reed would make damn sure his future included Carter. Most important now was for him to reassure Carter that he had no intention of leaving. That sometimes things worked out in the end.
“You think I’m going to walk away from you for good without looking back? Tell me,” said Reed, plucking the glass out of Carter’s hands and setting it on the coffee table. Yes, he’d made the promise not to get physical, but that was before Carter unburdened himself, sitting broken and strangely hesitant. Reed discovered he hated seeing Carter as anything but the slightly arrogant, cocky, self-made man, and right now Carter needed to hear how much Reed wanted him. “Would you leave me if I’d done what you had to do? It’s made you who you are, and so far I haven’t had a problem with that.”
