They hadn’t really been talking much about their lives, but he figured now was as good a time as any.
“Oh, um…you know. The usual places. The beach. Disney. Nothing major.”
Nodding, he thought it was a little vague but didn’t want to push.
At least, he thought he didn’t want to push but he started rattling off all kinds of questions.
“You never really mentioned whether you were from around here. Do you have any siblings? Have you always been a decorator? You have a real knack for it. Have you done any other hotels or resorts that I might have seen?”
Taking her hand from his, Maisie walked a few feet ahead and stopped at a spot where there was a small dock on the lake. Axel slowly followed and waited to see if she’d answer him.
“I’ve done some decorating, but mostly residential,” she said without looking at him. “No siblings. I don’t really see my parents much either. We don’t have a great relationship.”
That he could understand. Stepping forward, he moved beside her and relaxed when she turned to him with a small smile.
“What about you, Axel?”
“What about me?”
“You mentioned how you’d see your mom whenever your foster parents brought you here on vacation, but…have you seen her since?”
Damn. He hadn’t expected the questions to turn on him.
Staring out at the lake, he took a moment to calm himself. The mention of his mother usually brought out a bit of anxiety in him. It was one thing if he was the one to bring her up, but when anyone else did, he always felt a wave of unease.
“Uh, yeah, so…when I aged out of foster care and was going to move out on my own, I came here to see her. I wasn’t sure where I was going to move—or where I wanted to move—but there was a part of me that thought maybe now that I was an adult, she’d want me back.”
He paused, his throat tightening. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was telling Maisie this. He hadn’t shared this with anyone—not Walker, Connor, or any of the guys.
And yet…he couldn’t seem to stop.
“I came here, and she agreed to have dinner with me,” he went on. “I told her I was preparing to move out on my own and how my foster family was helping me a bit. And then I asked her if maybe I could stay with her until I got on my feet.”
Another pause.
“And, uh…she said no,” he said quietly. “She told me she didn’t miss being a mother and she thought I’d just eventually go away. I was nothing but an unpleasant reminder of the dumb mistakes she’d made in her life.”
“Oh my God. Oh, Axel…I’m so sorry.” Maisie reached for him, but he didn’t react. Her smooth hand rested on his bicep, but his gaze was still on the lake.
“Part of me wanted to beg her to change her mind, but when I looked at her face, I knew…it was like looking at a stranger. She just…there was nothing there. Like she had no soul, you know? We finished our dinner—I paid, naturally—and I left.”
“Wow. I…I don’t even know what to say.”
“Two years later, my foster mom called and told me she heard that my mom died. Drug overdose.” He let out a shuddering breath. “By that time, I was already living down in Baltimore, and I didn’t come back for the funeral. I’m not even sure if there was one. I didn’t ask. Hell, I don’t even know if she’s buried around here in the local cemetery or anything. I just…” He shrugged.
Then, her arms were around him, holding him and comforting him. For a minute, he wasn’t sure what to do, but then his arms went around her because he needed her, needed this.
He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when they finally broke apart, he felt…good. He was still sad, but there was something a little cathartic about saying that awful memory out loud.
“Not all parents are good people,” he said gruffly, taking her hand back in his. “I know you said you don’t have a great relationship with your parents—and I’m not asking for the reasons why—just know that I get it.” He gave her hand a small squeeze. “You’re not alone.”
“Neither are you,” she whispered, caressing his cheek with her free hand.
“I know. I have Walker, Connor, Milo, and Slater. They’re my family. They all had it easier than me, but we all have our shit. No one has a perfect life.”
“I don’t think perfect exists,” she said sadly.
“I don’t know about that. I mean…look around you. This lake? This view? It’s pretty damn perfect.”
