As Tears Go By by Lydia Michaels

the good
thing he lost.”
    Her
lashes lowered. “No. He didn’t appreciate us.” She sighed and sat back. “But
the thing is, he got the real me. He didn’t get me on my way to a meeting or
out for drinks with friends. He got the everyday me. She’s not fancy. She’s not
tidy. And she’s not interested in stroking some grown man’s ego, because she’s
too busy trying to raise a man, against most odds. And anyone who isn’t with
her, is only in her way.”
    There
was such quiet strength to this woman it boggled his mind. “ I want to be
with her.”
    Glancing
away, she shook her head slowly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
    “Explain
it to me then.”
    Her
fingers brushed over his cuff link and his chest swelled at the slight contact.
Her eyes combed over his tailored suit. “You’re a very well dressed man,
Braydon. I’ve seen your home. It’s impeccably kept. You even have tiny glass
jars for each one of your spices all stacked in a row. My life’s messy. My
house is hardly ever clean. That’s my reality. Glass breaks.”
    “It’s
only glass. I’m sturdier than that.”
    “When
Hunter has a meltdown, I take the brunt and it rips me apart. I don’t get to
lose it at home, though sometimes I want to. He needs Mom to be Mom under all
circumstances, come rain or come shine.”
    “It’s
understandable that you need an outlet, Becca. And yes, my apartment’s
immaculate. It’s just me and I’m hardly there. I’m an architect, not a neat
freak. I grew up in a house of nine. Nine, Becca, and not a single one
of them is normal. Our home was complete chaos most of the time. Nothing was
ever where it belonged, people were always coming and going, and there was
never a single peaceful room in the house.”
    She
smiled as if this bit of information amused her. He’d made the mistake of
judging her before really knowing the real her and he didn’t want her to make
the same mistake. The professional he was in the city was very different from
the guy he was at home.
    “And
you know what? I miss the pandemonium. It’s lonely as hell here. That’s
probably why I never hang out at my place. I need the noise. I crave the chaos.
You think a messy house and some shouting’s going to scare me off? Not a
chance. I was bred from a clan of Irish psychos—well, not psychos, but they’re
all a bit nuts—in a harmless way, of course.”
    She
shifted and her lips firmed like they did whenever she was silently debating
with herself. “It’s more than shouting.”
    “I
watched videos online. I saw how difficult it can be. I promise not to run
scared. Let me in, Becca. Show me how it works. Teach me. And for once, accept
the help being offered to you.”
    Her
face tightened and she drew in a deep breath. “Why are you doing this?” she
whispered. “There’re so many other women out there. Easier women with easier
lives.”
    “I want you .”
    A tear
slid past her lashes and fell to disappear somewhere on her lap. “I’m nothing
special.”
    Those
quiet words ripped at his heart. “You’re everything special. At first, yes, it
was all superficial, but now…after everything I’ve learned about you…I think
you’re extraordinary. I want it all, Becca. The sexy woman, the tireless mother
devoted to her child beyond all else. I want you, just as you are,
jagged edges and all.”
    “I
think you’re running toward false illusions.”
    “I’m an
architect. My job’s to envision ideals and build them. Let’s build something
great together. We have a connection, Becca.”
    A
shallow laugh slipped past her lips. “I can’t devote my life to ideals. I exist
amongst tangible realities.”
    “You
have to dare to dream.”
    “I’ve
learned to dread dreaming. I’m better off being content with the simpler gifts
in life. Wishing only gets me hurt.” Someone needed to shatter the oppressive
emptiness filling her.
    His
hand closed over hers and he gave a small squeeze. “Then let me show you