said.
Trust me …
She’d looked up at him then, his Mike, with her brown eyes floating in tears and her mouth trembling.
I do trust you
.
That had been the beginning.
Jacey had called him Dad for so long, he’d forgottenthat there was another father out there, another man who could lay claim to both his wife’s and daughter’s hearts.
“Dad. DAD.”
Bret stared at him. His little face looked unbalanced with the one black eye. “You’re gonna take me to basketball tryouts aren’t you?”
“Of course, Bretster.”
Bret nodded and started talking to Jacey about something. Liam tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t do it. A single sentence kept running through his mind.
She was married to Julian True
.
When he looked up again, he saw that Rosa was staring at him, her dark eyes narrowed and assessing.
“Do you have something you want to say to me, Rosa?”
She flinched, obviously surprised by his tone of voice. He knew he should have softened his tone, pretended that everything was okay, but he didn’t have the strength.
“
Sí
, Dr. Liam. I would like to speak to you … privately.”
He sighed. Perfect. “Sure. After the kids are in bed.”
Liam knew that Rosa was waiting for their “talk,” but he wasn’t ready yet. He’d spent almost an hour reading to Bret, then kissed Jacey good night and taken a long, hot shower.
Jacey was bunkered in her room now, probably talking on the telephone to one of her many friends and trying on her mother’s dress. Liam hadn’t gone toher, afraid that if he saw her wearing that beautiful gown, looking like her mother, he’d lose it.
Right now he wanted to hole up in his own quiet space. Christ, he’d give almost anything to be able to go downstairs, sit at the piano, and play the hell out of some sad bit of music.
He wanted to be angry, to scream and rail and feel honest-to-God outrage. But he wasn’t that kind of man. His love for Mikaela was more than just an emotion; it was the sum total of who he was.
This one thing he knew above everything else. He loved Mikaela too much. Which in its way was as bad as loving someone not enough.
Slowly he went downstairs.
The piano stood in the empty living room like a forgotten lover.
Liam closed his eyes and remembered a time when music swirled through this room every night … He could almost hear the squeaky joint of the bench as Mike sat down beside him.
Tips are welcome
, he’d say, just as he’d said a thousand times on a thousand nights.
Here’s a tip for you, piano man: Get your wife to bed or miss your chance
.
When he opened his eyes, the room was empty and silent.
He’d never thought much about silence, but now he knew its every shape and contour. It was a cheap glass jar that trapped old voices and kept them fresh.
He went to the piano and sat on the antique benchwith its needlepoint seat. With one finger, he plunked at a single key. It made a dull, thudding sound.
Mrs. Julian True
.
“Dr. Liam?”
He jumped, and his hand crashed on the keys in a blast of discordant sound.
Rosa stood in the archway that separated the great room from the dining room.
Liam didn’t want to talk to his mother-in-law right now. If she opened the door to intimacy, he might ask the question that was killing him:
Did she ever love me, Rosa?
And God help him, he wasn’t ready for the answer.
“
Lo siento
, I do not mean to bother you.”
He studied her, saw the nervous trembling in her hands, the almost invisible tapping of her right foot, and he was seized by a sudden fear that she knew what he’d found, that she’d talk about Mikaela’s past now, tell him more than he wanted to know. He got slowly to his feet and moved toward her. In the pale, overhead light, she looked incredibly fragile, her wrinkled skin almost translucent. A tiny network of blue blood vessels crisscrossed her smooth cheeks. “Yes, Rosa?”
She gazed up at him, her dark eyes steeped in sorrow, and he knew that she understood the
Trust me …
She’d looked up at him then, his Mike, with her brown eyes floating in tears and her mouth trembling.
I do trust you
.
That had been the beginning.
Jacey had called him Dad for so long, he’d forgottenthat there was another father out there, another man who could lay claim to both his wife’s and daughter’s hearts.
“Dad. DAD.”
Bret stared at him. His little face looked unbalanced with the one black eye. “You’re gonna take me to basketball tryouts aren’t you?”
“Of course, Bretster.”
Bret nodded and started talking to Jacey about something. Liam tried to pay attention, but he couldn’t do it. A single sentence kept running through his mind.
She was married to Julian True
.
When he looked up again, he saw that Rosa was staring at him, her dark eyes narrowed and assessing.
“Do you have something you want to say to me, Rosa?”
She flinched, obviously surprised by his tone of voice. He knew he should have softened his tone, pretended that everything was okay, but he didn’t have the strength.
“
Sí
, Dr. Liam. I would like to speak to you … privately.”
He sighed. Perfect. “Sure. After the kids are in bed.”
Liam knew that Rosa was waiting for their “talk,” but he wasn’t ready yet. He’d spent almost an hour reading to Bret, then kissed Jacey good night and taken a long, hot shower.
Jacey was bunkered in her room now, probably talking on the telephone to one of her many friends and trying on her mother’s dress. Liam hadn’t gone toher, afraid that if he saw her wearing that beautiful gown, looking like her mother, he’d lose it.
Right now he wanted to hole up in his own quiet space. Christ, he’d give almost anything to be able to go downstairs, sit at the piano, and play the hell out of some sad bit of music.
He wanted to be angry, to scream and rail and feel honest-to-God outrage. But he wasn’t that kind of man. His love for Mikaela was more than just an emotion; it was the sum total of who he was.
This one thing he knew above everything else. He loved Mikaela too much. Which in its way was as bad as loving someone not enough.
Slowly he went downstairs.
The piano stood in the empty living room like a forgotten lover.
Liam closed his eyes and remembered a time when music swirled through this room every night … He could almost hear the squeaky joint of the bench as Mike sat down beside him.
Tips are welcome
, he’d say, just as he’d said a thousand times on a thousand nights.
Here’s a tip for you, piano man: Get your wife to bed or miss your chance
.
When he opened his eyes, the room was empty and silent.
He’d never thought much about silence, but now he knew its every shape and contour. It was a cheap glass jar that trapped old voices and kept them fresh.
He went to the piano and sat on the antique benchwith its needlepoint seat. With one finger, he plunked at a single key. It made a dull, thudding sound.
Mrs. Julian True
.
“Dr. Liam?”
He jumped, and his hand crashed on the keys in a blast of discordant sound.
Rosa stood in the archway that separated the great room from the dining room.
Liam didn’t want to talk to his mother-in-law right now. If she opened the door to intimacy, he might ask the question that was killing him:
Did she ever love me, Rosa?
And God help him, he wasn’t ready for the answer.
“
Lo siento
, I do not mean to bother you.”
He studied her, saw the nervous trembling in her hands, the almost invisible tapping of her right foot, and he was seized by a sudden fear that she knew what he’d found, that she’d talk about Mikaela’s past now, tell him more than he wanted to know. He got slowly to his feet and moved toward her. In the pale, overhead light, she looked incredibly fragile, her wrinkled skin almost translucent. A tiny network of blue blood vessels crisscrossed her smooth cheeks. “Yes, Rosa?”
She gazed up at him, her dark eyes steeped in sorrow, and he knew that she understood the
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