“I didn’t stay to hear the rest,” I whisper. “I couldn’t. I left his stupid bandana on his door and walked away.”
He nods.
I sniffle.
He stands and walks to the small bookshelf behind me. He pulls out the box of tissues and sets it on my desk, but he doesn’t say it’ll be okay. He’s too smart for that.
Instead, he sits in the chair across from me. “Sometimes people just say things, Jayne. I’ve seen him with you. He loves you.”
“Does he?” I can’t believe that right now, not when I’m falling apart.
“He does,” Daniel says confidently. “What do you want to do?”
I wipe my tears. “Run.”
“Figured.”
I meet his eyes. “Figured what?”
“You’ve got that look.” He gives me a wan smile. “Like you’re already halfway out the door in your head. Somewhere warm, quiet, and anonymous.Somewhere that doesn’t ask anything of you.”
A weak laugh slips out of me. “Yeah. Just for a little while. No kids. No Rhys. No responsibilities.”
He tilts his head, considering. “That’s not an option.”
My breath catches, halfway between protest and relief. “Why not?”
“Because running doesn’t fix anything.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “It just moves the pain somewhere else.”
“And why is that a bad thing?” I say on a sob.
“Because you love your family, which includes your husband,” he says simply, and fresh tears erupt, streaming down my face.
He doesn’t ask me to calm down or stop crying.
“So, you gotta pick another path, honey.”
I blow my nose. “And what will this path look like?”
“One that’s not built around everyone else’s schedule or needs.”
I look down at my hands, trembling in my lap. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Oh, yes, you do.” He extends his hand and tilts my chin up so I look at him. “You’re the toughest and strongest woman I know. You have grit, Jayne Prescott.”
My face crumbles. “I don’t want to be strong.”
“I know.” He comes around the desk and pulls me up. “Have a breakdown today.”
“Yeah?” I sniffle.
He chuckles and pulls me into a hug. “Yeah, honey. Cry your heart out.”
So, in the safety of his embrace, I cry my heart out, pouring out the pain of the past and the agony of my present.
CHAPTER 10
Rhys
