The Best Bride. Сьюзен Мэллери
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I didn’t know what to say, either. I lived with that man for six and a half years.” She laughed, then stopped before the laugh turned into a sob. “I found out when the police knocked on my door in the middle of the night. They arrested him, right there in my living room. You know the funny part?”
He didn’t answer.
“I was going to leave him and get a divorce. The marriage—the whatever we had together—had been in trouble for a while. It didn’t work with his separations. Of course his already being married would have put a strain on things, too, if I’d known.”
“Elizabeth—”
“No, I know what you’re thinking. Any kind of moron could have figured it out. My God, in six years there should have been hundreds of clues. There were. I know there were.” She couldn’t look at him anymore. She stared at the loose tiles in front of her. One was plain cream with tiny flecks of rose. The other was the same cream background with rose-colored flowers in each of the corners. The bathroom was going to be beautiful when he was done. She wondered if he would let her come and look at it then, or if he wouldn’t ever want to speak to her again. She couldn’t blame him. Her friends had stared at her with disgust. Most had stopped calling. The ones who had continued to speak to her had made her feel worse. She hated their pity.
“I should have known. There I stood on my wedding day, so happy. I knew I would be the best bride, the best wife, the best mother. It was all a joke.”
The colors on the tiles blurred. She heard a movement behind her. Travis crouched next to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Dammit, stop beating yourself up.”
She stared at him, at his wavering image and only then did she realize she was crying. She raised one hand to her cheek. It was wet with tears.
“I told you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky. “I warned you I wasn’t who or what you thought.”
“Give me a break,” he said impatiently. “You made a mistake. So what? People make mistakes all the time.”
“Not like this.”
“Hey, this isn’t half as terrible as some of things I’ve been imagining.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Elizabeth, you aren’t the bad guy. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Except be stupid.”
He smiled slightly. “That’s not against the law.”
She pulled free of his grip. “You haven’t thought this through, Travis. It’s not just about being stupid. I was never married. Every document I have is a lie. I won’t even bother with the details of what the IRS had to say about this. We had joint property together. It’s still not all straightened out. And my daughter—” Her voice started to shake. “My daughter doesn’t have a father anymore. I wasn’t married when she was born. Even her birth certificate is a lie. I love her more than anything, yet I might have destroyed her life. I only wanted the best for her and look what happened.”
“I’m sorry.”
He reached for her, but she pulled back. She leaned against the pile of tiles. “Do you know what it’s like having the police show up at your door at four in the morning? Do you know what my neighbors thought or said the next day? Sam was gone about two weeks every month. I used to wonder why he didn’t want to buy a house. Now I know it’s because his other life would show up on the credit report. He didn’t want me to go back to work, but thank God I did. When this all hit, I walked away with my daughter, my personal savings account and only what I’d paid for. I left behind everything else. I wanted to start over.” The tears began to flow again. She felt her voice getting thick, but she couldn’t stop. She had to explain it all. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
“Hush.” He reached for her and this time she didn’t have the strength to resist him. After months of carrying around her guilty secret she felt cleansed, having spoken the truth at last. She knew that Travis would never be able to understand what she’d been through or look at her without feeling disgusted, but right now she couldn’t deal with that.
He drew her into his embrace. He was warm and comforting, all the things her life lacked.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, willing herself to fight, but not able to find the strength. “I’m incompetent. I ruined my life and Mandy’s, and—”
“Never,” he whispered. He rested her head on his shoulder and stroked her back. “Never.”
“It’s true. I am. I’m—”
He silenced her with his kiss. His firm lips brushed against hers, his mustache tickled her skin. He tasted salty; then she realized it was her own tears. She clung to him, to his strength, letting herself believe that this was real. Even for just a second, it was enough. His powerful body acted as a shield from the horrors of her past. In his arms, she could forget her part in the debacle that had been her life. She could ignore how it had affected Mandy, and caused them both to be cut off from friends and family. Even her parents didn’t know the truth. She couldn’t face telling them.
She turned her face away, breaking the kiss. “I wish you didn’t know,” she said, inhaling the scent of his warm body, knowing he would soon remove his strength from her reach and she would be alone again. “I wish I didn’t have to see the disgust and pity in your eyes.”
He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “What do you see in my eyes?” he asked.
She saw the flames that had been there the last time they’d kissed. She saw compassion, and something she couldn’t identify.
“You haven’t had time to think it through,” she said, not willing to believe it was that easy.
“Give me a little credit for knowing myself.”
She didn’t say anything because she knew he was wrong. In time he would get angry at her for being so young and blind. Her friends had. She’d certainly gotten angry at herself. She was used to the weight of disapproval.
He rose and pulled her to her feet. Then he bent over and picked her up in his arms. She thought about protesting, but she didn’t have the energy. She wrapped her arms around his neck and savored the feeling of being safe.
He carried her down the hall into his bedroom. She’d never been in here before. There was a large sleigh bed pushed against one wall. It dwarfed this room, but would look perfect in the master suite. An antique rocker stood in one corner. He settled down on the seat. She started to struggle.
“I’m not Mandy,” she said. “I don’t need to be treated like a child.”
“Maybe not,” he said mildly, “but you need a good holding anyway and this is the best way I know to do it. Relax, Elizabeth. Everything is going to be all right. I promise.”
“You can’t make it all right.”
“Sure I can. Even if I can’t make it right forever, I can fix it now. Close your eyes. Don’t think about it anymore.”
He held her head against his shoulder. His other hand moved slowly up and down her back. The comforting embrace weakened her resistance. She felt the tears forming. She clutched at his shirt and gave in to the pain.
It filled her, surrounding her. All the days and nights she’d lived with her shameful secret, all the lies she’d told, willingly and unwillingly. She’d hoped for a fresh start in this small town. Nothing was the way it was supposed to have been. This shouldn’t have happened to her.
Travis murmured quiet words of encouragement. Her sobs lessened. She drew in a ragged breath and turned her face toward his neck. His shirt was damp against her cheek, his legs hard beneath hers. Big strong hands held her gently, as if she were the most fragile of creatures. Something precious. She wanted to believe his embrace. She wanted to know that she was fragile and special, something of value.
“Better?”