Blue-Eyed Devil by Lisa Kleypas Page B

him would he enough to make him want to change.”

    I sipped my wine and considered that for a while. Was Nick’s abusiveness something that could be peeled away like an orange rind? Or was it marbled all the way through?

    “I think with Nick, it’s always going to be about control,” I finally said. “I can’t see him ever admitting something is his fault, or that he needs to change in any way. The fault is always mine.” Set-ting aside my empty wine glass, I rubbed my forehead. “I keep wondering . . . did he ever love me at all? Was I anything more than just someone to push around and manipulate? Because if he never cared about me, it makes me even more of an idiot for having loved him.”

    “Maybe he cared about you as much as he was capable,” Liberty said.

    I smiled without humor. “Lucky me.” I realized we were talking about my relationship with Nick as if it were already in the past tense. “If I had known him longer,” I continued, “dated him longer, maybe I would have seen through the facade. It was my fault for rushing into marriage so quickly.”

    “No it wasn’t,” Liberty insisted. “Sometimes an imitation of love can be pretty damn convincing.”

    The words reminded me of something I’d heard her say a long time ago on her wedding night. A lifetime ago. “Like the imitation you had with Hardy Cates?”

    She nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. “Yes, although I wouldn’t care to put Hardy in the same company as Nick. He would never hurt a woman. In fact, Hardy had the opposite problem . . . always wanting to rescue someone . . . I forget the name for it . . .”

    “A white knight complex.”

    “Yes. But after the rescue was done, that was Hardy’s cue to leave.”

    “He wasn’t such a white knight when he ruined Gage’s business deal,” I couldn’t resist pointing out.

    Liberty ‘s smile turned rueful. “You’re right But I think Hardy considered that a shot against Gage, not me.” She shook her head dismissively. “About you and Nick . . . it’s not your fault that he went after you. I’ve read that abusers choose women they can easily manipulate — they have a kind of radar for it. Like, if you filled the Astrodome with people and put one abusive man and one vulnerable woman in there, they’d find each other.”

    “Oh, great.” I was indignant. “I’m a walking target.”

    “You’re not a target, you’re just. . . trusting. Loving. Any normal guy would appreciate that. But I think someone like Nick probably thinks of love as a weakness he can take advantage of.”

    Regardless of what I wanted to hear, that got to me. It was a truth I couldn’t get over, under, or around . . . it stood right in my way, blocking any possible path back to Nick.

    No matter how much I loved him, or what I did for him, Nick wouldn’t change. The more I tried to please him, the more contempt he would have for me.

    “I can’t go back to him,” I said slowly, “can I?”

    Liberty just shook her head.

    “I can imagine what Dad will say if I got a divorce,” I muttered. “Starting with a big, fat ‘I told you so.’”

    “No,” Liberty said earnestly. “Really. I’ve talked with Churchill more than once about the way he behaved. He’s sorry about having been such a hard-ass.”

    I wasn’t buying that. “Dad lives to be a hard-ass.”

    Liberty shrugged. “Whatever Churchill says or thinks is not important right now. The point is what you want.”

    I was about to tell her it might take a long time to figure that out. But as I lowered myself next to the baby’s warm body and snuggled close, a few things had become very clear. I wanted to never be hit or yelled at again. I wanted to be called by my own name. I wanted my body to belong to me. I wanted all the things that anyone deserved by virtue of being human. Including love.

    And I knew deep down it wasn’t love when one person had all the power and the other person was completely dependent.