“She was already insecure,” Rachel retorted heatedly, clenching her hands. “She was the personification of insecure! And I didn’t talk about eternal love or fairy tales, or...whatever! That’s all in your head. I didn’t do anything! She’s a grown woman who cried and poured her heart out to me. So, I talked to her. But she can make her own decisions. And what’s wrong with her taking a little more time?”
“She has children, Rachel!” Connor was shouting now, looking so angry that a wiser woman might have taken a step back. But Rachel wasn’t feeling wise just then. She felt belligerent. “She’s not fucking alone in this situation! She has seven-year-old twins who have been suffering for weeks!” He leaned toward her, his dark eyes black in the dim light. “Two children that I had to prepare to testify in court! Do you know howshittythat is? And now Mrs. Teager wants to rethink it so I can subject her children to that absolute hell a second time? Why did you have to open your mouth?!” His hand trembled with anger as he ran it through his hair.
“I comforted her,” she replied, glaring at him. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Connor laughed mirthlessly. “We obviously have two very different ideas of right and wrong! God, this isn’t right!” He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head repeatedly. “I didn’t want to see you, Rachel. I don’t want to be here! I thought we had negotiated some kind of truce in the alley behind the restaurant! I thought it was clear that we could interfere with each other’sdates because of that stupid bet, but not with each other’s damn jobs, each other’s damn lives!’
“I didn’t mean to interfere!” she snapped, her toes painfully bumping against his. “I didn’t even know she was your client. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill!”
“No, you don’t think,” he barked at her. “You talk and talk, and everyone hangs on your every word and believes what you say. They believe you’re perfect, that you’re quiet, that you’re perfectly content and friendly, but you’renoneof those things! You’re irritating and cheeky, and at least in my presence, you always seem to take what you want! I have yet to discover your kind side, and I couldn’t care less! Fuck, I could even respect all of that because you’re the most amazing woman I know, but you can’t interfere with my work! For me, it’s not aboutlove. About whether Mrs. Teager still adores her husband or not. It’s about doing therightthing. No matter how fucking difficult it is. I mean...was that intentional? Are you trying to mess with me, make my job harder because I made yours harder? Is this payback for proving to you that you’re looking for the wrong type of man? For hating that I made you come in two minutes flat, and that you want me even though I’m the last man on earth your stupid questionnaire would have chosen for you?!’
“Payback?” she spat out, angrily thrusting her hands against his chest. She wanted him to leave, to stop reminding her that she hated him...and for the past week, when she hadn’t been able to think about anything but his hands on her body. His mouth on her breasts. His fingers deep inside her. “You take yourself too damn seriously, Connor!”
“No, you don’t take me seriously enough,” he growled, pinning her hands to his chest with two fingers. He didn’t give an inch. “I fucking told you! You don’t believe what you see and hear, and then decide what’s right for you over others. Especially not when you make such disastrously bad decisions as you do!”
His words hit her right in the chest, right above the spot where the guilt had been that she’d been carrying around for a whole decade. Like an arrow, his words pierced her... But there was already a hole there, so the truth behind Connor’s words only hurt half as much.
“Yeah,” she whispered tonelessly. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe I make disastrously bad decisions, but you’re wrong to think I intentionally meant you harm, or advised your client to go back to her husband. All I did was ask questions and show compassion. That’s what I do.”
“Oh, please.” He tightened his grip on her hands. “You’d rather force a couple to stay stuck in their misery than advise them to get a divorce! Because otherwise it interferes with your idea of romantic forever love.”
She gritted her teeth and dug her nails into his shirt. “That’s not true. I don’t decide which of my patients stay together and which don’t! I never directly state my personal opinion! That’s not my job. I can only guide conversations. And the only time I’ve broken my stupid rule is the reason I’m standing here with you now. So that was obviously the worst decision I’ve ever made! But you seem to forget that you’re Mrs. Teager’s lawyer, not the God of Love who can tell her if her marriage is worth saving or not.”
His jaw muscles flexed as he shook his head and continued to push her backward with his body, forcing her onto the defensive. “Sometimes the only good thing that can happen to a relationship is that it breaks up, Rachel! Sometimes a marriage needs to end for the suffering to stop. And Mrs. Teager was so damn close to finally understanding that. Before she talked toyou.”
There was still anger in his voice. But this time, there was also a hint of despair. Bitterness.
Remorse.
She glared at him, her lips slightly parted...and a warm blanket enveloped her anger. Not smothering it, just dampening it. Connor’s words echoed in her head, and the puzzle pieces fell into place. She’d found the pieces she’d been missing for a complete picture of Connor. She finally understood why he’d become a divorce lawyer, even though his parents had never separated.
“Is this really about Mrs. Teager, Connor?” she asked gently.
“What?” he snapped.
“Are you really angry because of her? Or because their case reminds you of your own parents? Who didn’t get divorced — though they should have. Because it would have saved you so much pain if they’d just given up on their relationship.”
Connor let go of her so abruptly that she would have stumbled backward if he hadn’t already pushed her up against the desk.
“Be quiet,” he said, but his words had lost their edge. His expression seemed more perplexed than angry.
“Is that it?” she asked cautiously, swallowing. “Did you become a divorce lawyer to help people who need to take the final step but need someone to push them?”
“Be quiet, Rachel.” There was a warning in his words, but she was making terribly bad decisions...
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking at him seriously, hesitantly taking his arms and squeezing them gently. “I'm sorry that you obviously suffered from your parents’ terrible relationship. But every relationship is different. Was it your mother or...” His eyes turned almost black. “Ah, your father. Your father went too far. Didn’t deserve your mother? Treated her badly? Yet she wouldn’t give up on him?”
“Rachel...”
“Did your mother give him too many chances? Decided what was best for the family without considering the children?
“I said...”
“Did you have to take care of everything? Because you’re the oldest?” She couldn’t stop talking. The words poured out of her as they always did when she had a sudden realization. “Your siblings don’t know how bad it was, do they? You never told them. You covered most of it up for them so they could have a normal childhood.”
“Rachel, damn it!” he snapped, his biceps flexing under her touch. “Stop psychoanalyzing me.”
Her eyes burned, and she lifted a shoulder. “I can’t. My brain is running a mile a minute and unstoppable. But Connor, I’m sorry. I understand you better than you think. Your siblings live far away, don’t they? Because when you finally got rid of the family responsibility, you never wanted it again.”
