Page 154

I’m glad she has them in her life. I’m kind of grateful they are here, I think. At the same time, they grind on my nerves.

All the silent gazes, whispered words, unspoken accusations, and the fucking behemoth of worry they bring with them are unbearable.

When the double doors open again, I groan. Dorothy Quinn walks into the hallway, dressed in a simple wrap dress and without makeup, and yet looking very put-together.

And while I am still not ready to face her, her presence somehow makes the harsh light softer, the cold room warmer, the bleak situation slightly more bearable.

“Declan had to stay with the children.” She wraps me in her arms, and I somehow get lost in her embrace, even though she is at least a foot shorter than me.

Her hug is… it’s all it used to be when I was a little boy, and just like a little boy, a sob escapes me.

I tame the fucker, and don’t let everyone see me broken, but, fuck, it’s hard to pretend I’m whole.

Mom pats my back and ushers me away from the group as if she knows me. Because she fucking does.

She opens some door and pushes me inside an exam room, where I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be. She pulls me into another hug. “Let it out, son.”

And fuck, if this woman doesn’t know how to kill me with her love and compassion. I let go and sob. “I should have—”

“No should-haves. Cry because you’re sorry. Cry because you’re sad. It’s okay. Let go. But I’m not letting you blame yourself for anything that happened tonight. Unless it was you who pulled the trigger.” She pushes me to a chair, hands me a handkerchief, and holds my shoulder.

I lower my head to my palms. The pain, spreading like acid, burns my throat, chars my chest cavity, singes my stomach.

“I love her.” Not sure why I’m clarifying that.

“She’s a great woman. I’m happy for you.”

I wipe the stupid tears. “You met her?”

Mom shrugs, a coy smile on her face.

“I’m sorry I ignored you for so long.” I lower my head.

“Well, you owe me some quality mother/son time, but let’s focus on your wife now.”

My wife.

She felt so mine just a few hours ago, but it’s so easy to fall into that illusion when I’m around Saar.

“According to the latest update, the injuries are not life-threatening. Let’s go back in case there is more news.” Mom swipes her hands over my shoulders, adjusting my now-clean shirt, like looking presentable is what matters now.

“How do you know?”

“I’m on the board here, didn’t you know?” She shakes her head and gives me a peck on my cheek.

“Thank you, Mom.” I stand, my legs shaking, and reach for the door handle.

“Corm, this might not be the right time, but I guess...” She trails off, and then takes a deep breath and continues, “Your father was never home. After Declan was born, Connor dived into work. I lost a baby girl a year later, and we grew apart. I was alone with my grief. He was working in the office to deal with his.

“I met a man, and he was there, listening, available, charming. But being with him made me realize how much I loved your father, and it made me fight harder for him. He forgave me, he accepted his role in my affair, and he accepted you with love. You became the reason we healed.”

I bow my head, shaking it. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s not working. I don’t have the capacity to deal with this.”

“What I’m trying to say is that you deserve love. I’m glad you stopped pushing it away, but it’s in times like these when we need to embrace love rather than anger and fear.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. I want to retort thatthat’s easier said than done, but Saar deserves better. Saar deserves all my affection.

She’s had enough of my bullying and power-tripping. She deserves better. I might not be the best she deserves, but fuck, I’ll try to be that for her.