Mistletoe Twins. Lois Richer
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That wasn’t going to change.
“I don’t have one.” Adele grimaced. “I told you a long time ago that I was never going to marry and repeat my parents’ disasters.”
“Apparently you forgot that vow because you did get engaged, Delly. The aunts wrote me about it a while ago.” He saw pain in those expressive eyes. “What happened?”
“What always happens with romance, what I’ve been avoiding my entire life.” She squeezed her eyes closed and sighed. “Arguments.”
“About?” Don’t prejudge the guy. Mac waited for her to explain.
“Rafe and I argued about pretty much everything, but recently they centered around Francie and Franklyn. He said I was getting too involved.” She rolled her eyes.
Mac figured this Rafe couldn’t have known Delly very well if he expected her not to get involved with a pair of needy kids.
“We bickered a lot about that, but I thought if he’d just get to know them...” Adele shook her blond head, apparently unwilling to tell Mac all. “One day Rafe informed me that he didn’t want a ready-made family. Or any family.” She stared at her hands. “I tried to understand. But I couldn’t marry him and not care what happened to the twins. I kept praying for God to help.”
“I see.” Mac frowned but said nothing more, waiting for the rest of the sad story.
“Then Rafe missed an important dinner. He lied about why and I knew it, so I pressed him. People who love each other don’t lie to their partners.” The way she compressed her lips told Mac she was still hurting. “Turns out Rafe didn’t love me, not the way I thought. He wanted to marry me because he figured I’d be an asset to him in his bid for full partner at his law firm. Francie and Franklyn didn’t fit his plan.”
Mac hissed air between his teeth, disgusted with a man he’d never met. “Ow.”
“Yes. Reality bites. Rafe wasn’t the man I’d dreamed he was. Our so-called love was all in my mind.”
Mac could see her struggling not to show her distress over that discovery. Since the day they’d first met, he’d understood that Adele needed to replace the painful memory of her parents’ bitter marriage and abusive home life.
“I finally realized that marrying Rafe would be repeating the ugliness of my parents’ marriage.” She shook her head to emphasize her words. “I won’t do that, Mac. I will not subject myself or anyone else to the hate and misery of that. I experienced it as a kid. I’m never going there again. Rafe was the second guy I trusted and then realized didn’t really love me.”
Mac sat up straight at the news. Delly had loved someone else?
“So I’ve reaffirmed my decision never to marry,” she said firmly. “I don’t think I could endure the failure.”
“Not necessarily gonna happen,” he murmured, but she ignored him.
“You know me and my past. My parents—my childhood dug marks too deep. Even when they were finally splitting up they couldn’t agree on parenting, so Gina and I were sent to foster care.” She swallowed hard. Seeing her so determined not to cry made Mac feel helpless. “How could they do that to their own kids?”
“I don’t know, Del—”
“So-called love wreaked havoc with my self-esteem.” Adele straightened, control regained. “It was even worse this time to realize Rafe was prepared to pretend to love me, but only as long as I fit the mold he had. Love tore my family apart, Mac. I thought I was over the effects of that, but here I am, reliving the same old feelings. Love costs too much. I want no part of it.”
“Adele, love has given you so much,” Mac countered, hating to see her so distraught. “Tillie and Margaret took you, Victoria, Olivia and Gemma from the foster system before you were teens. The four of you grew up here at The Haven surrounded by so much love from those two ladies that the rest of us local kids envied you.” He brushed his hand against her cheek before quietly continuing. “You and your foster sisters have two aunts that adore you. And you have one another to lean on.”
“True,” she agreed solemnly, her gaze holding his. “And we love that the aunties did that for us.”
“But?” Mac hated that she couldn’t seem to break free of her past.
“This sounds a little schoolgirlish, but I’ve always longed to have what other girls had,” she whispered. “Boyfriends, somebody who loved me enough that I never doubted it.”
“I don’t count?” Mac arched his brows.
“You were my best friend, Mac, and that counts for a lot. But you never loved me,” she said. “Not romantically. We’re just friends.”
“Just.” His mouth turned down. Adele had been a huge part of his life before he’d left home. Was he going to lose all that? “Friendship’s not enough now?”
“It’s a great deal, Mac, and I will always treasure it.” Her hand closed around his and squeezed it. “But my escape from the past was always a dream about a fairy-tale love that would override my past.” She withdrew her hand. “Hasn’t happened and I doubt it ever will.”
“That’s why you went out with Kent Krane from high school.” He gaped when she nodded. “I always wondered what you saw in him.”
“Kent was handsome enough to be a Prince Charming, but he wasn’t for me.” She smiled sadly. “Before I met Rafe, after Jeff dumped me—”
“Jeff?” Mac frowned.
“A guy from my church in Edmonton.” Adele sighed. “I dated several. I’d pray about those dates, wait for God to stop me or let me know those men weren’t the one. When He didn’t, I’d go out for coffee with them. Or lunch. Or to adult fellowship. Whatever.” She couldn’t read Mac’s expression, but she was pretty sure he thought she was an idiot. “None of them fit my list.”
“Until Rafe.” He waited for her nod. “Let me guess. He was attentive, he was fun and he made your heart speed up.”
“Yes, all of it.” She thrust out her chin when he smiled. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing if he was the one. But he wasn’t. Can I take a stab at guessing why?”
“I already told you why. But go ahead.” Adele looked as if she wished she’d never told him anything.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you, dear friend Adele, like perfection. Never a hair out of place, even when you’re cooking full tilt. Your chef’s whites are probably always pristine, right?”
“I try,” she acknowledged. “So what? You’re making me sound as if I’m suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder,” she complained.
“No, I’m not saying that at all.” Mac paused.
While recuperating after the amputation, he’d had sessions with a psychotherapist, during which Mac had talked about Adele, a lot. It had helped him avoid facing his own truth. The therapist had offered insights that helped Mac understand much more about her and about his friendship with her. Maybe he should shut up now, but Delly was his friend and he wanted to help her.
“What are you saying, Mac?” she demanded in a testy tone.
“Sweetie, you were a kid who lived in a place of turmoil. Everybody deals with things differently. After my brother died, I rode broncs, the worst ones. I needed to feel like I was challenging life.”
“You were.” Adele tossed him a cheeky grin.
“Agreed. You coped with your messed-up world by learning to bring order from chaos. Once you had things in order, perfect, you were able to deal with them.”
“I guess.” At least she was listening.