“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I said, horrified.
She raised her hand in dismissal of my sympathy. “Don’t be. My life had been a living hell for years prior to that. They were constantly at each other’s throats, dragging me into their squabbles like a pair of children. I’d already run away several times to try and escape. And when they died I was free. I stayed with a distant aunt until my inheritance” — she scoffed over the word — “what was left of it, was handed over and then I tried to survive off it. But it was hard trying to adapt. I wanted desperately to go back to the life of my childhood where money was no issue, that was when I was happiest, but I soon realized that if I wanted to live like that then I needed to find myself a rich partner.”
Her eyes lifted to mine as she tried to gauge my reaction. But all I felt right now was sadness, sadness for the little girl lost and the woman she had become.
“And it wasn’t hard, I’ve been lucky in that department,” she continued, matter-of-factly. “One man goes and the next comes along. I stay for as long as it works and then I move on. So here I am. I don’t pretend to love them, but I do make them happy, in all the ways they care about.”
“And you?” I said, thinking on the most important thing to me. “Can you honestly say you are happy?”
Her eyes were so desolate in that moment that I knew the answer for myself.
“Let’s just say I’ve grown up. I was foolish to associate my happiness as a child with the abundance of money. What made me happy was the fact that my family had been happy.”
She fixed me with those beautiful green eyes. “Seeing how you live, with all that you have, but without love” — she shook her head in pity — “I can see the sadness in you. Money isn’t the answer. Not for either of us.”
Her words struck a chord within me. Hadn’t I come to the same realization only last night?
“It sure isn’t,” I said, pain adding an edge to my voice.
“Look, I know you must think me a money-grabbing whore,” she said bitterly, and I realized she took my reaction to be one of distaste for her.
“No!” I exclaimed. “I think nothing of the sort! You have no idea how similar we are.”
She scoffed. “You’re nothing like me. You’re young, delightful, miraculously untainted by the scheming world around you.”
I laughed. “How can you say that after what I’ve done, what we’ve done?”
She gave me a small smile. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” I conceded. “But you see I’m no different to you really. I should have run away from my stepfather years ago, but the idea of being without his financial support terrified me.The knowledge that I would have to give all this up and fend for myself — I just couldn’t face it. And so I’ve stayed and allowed myself to be used by him.”
Her eyes shot to mine in horror and I realized she’d misunderstood me.
“Not in that way,” I said quickly, my tummy turning on the thought. “Last night was the first time he’s ever given any indication that he would even go there.”
She let go of a shaky breath, her relief both touching and scary, to think how real the possibility had been to her.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to hear you say that,” she said. “Last night, when I went to bed, I couldn’t sleep, I just kept thinking of you both, you know, and what would have happened if you hadn’t left when you did...”
She gave a little shiver and broke off.
“I didn’t sleep well either,” I said, my thoughts turning to what had kept me awake. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her what had actually happened after I left. Deep down, I really didn’t want or need to know. Once the imaginings became real, I was certain they would be all the more powerful for it.
“I’m sorry.”
Her apology surprised me and I realized she had read me perfectly.
“It is what it is,” I shrugged, trying to brush it off, wanting to stop the thoughts before they drove questions from me I didn’t want to pose.
She eyed me for a while and I started to worry what was coming next, but as her eyes turned back to Storm’s flank, she said quietly, “You still haven’t told me why you’re encouraging the relationship with Daniel.”
Her change of subject was a relief but now it left me with the difficult decision as to how much to say.
“It’s a long story,” I said, and one where I didn’t really know where to begin. If I told her I was caught rummaging in Dad’s study, she would be bound to ask why and whether I’d discovered anything.
Instinct told me to trust her and I desperately wanted a confidante to share it all with, but I wasn’t so naive as to realize that my intense attraction could be clouding my judgment. It wasn’t like I had the best track record either, Dr Tate being a prime example of my misplaced trust.
“Please, Abi,” she said softly, her face so full of affection and open concern that I had to grit my teeth to stop the swell of emotion bringing tears to my eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, you’ve learned more about me in the last half hour than anyone I know.”
