A Glimpse of the Dream (15 page)

Settling on the sand, I switched off the flashlight and looked out at Kane’s island. A light was burning, probably his bedroom. Being home, all the memories I had tried so hard to forget were right there, so vivid it was as if they had happened just yesterday and not all those years ago. Was he awake? Was his wife? Were they even now making love? Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to remember how it felt when he touched me, the taste of him, the way our bodies so perfectly fit together, how it felt when he slid into me. I had fooled myself believing I would ever be free of him. He had been there for too many of the moments that forged the person I became. And deep down, despite everything, I loved him—deeply and completely. He was the reason why every man since only ever touched my body; my heart wasn’t mine to give and hadn’t been for a very long time.

And even loving him, I hated him. Hated that he walked away from something so precious and rare. Not just walked away—never looked back. In the years that came, I wasn’t sure how all of this would work. Mrs. Marks was sick and when—because I wouldn’t think
if
—she recovered, how many more years did she have? I didn’t want to miss any more special moments, but thinking about holidays and birthdays, of seeing Kane living the life I had so much wanted to share with him, made me ill, so how the hell would I ever live through it? Seeing the smiling faces of his children, the look of love he’d give his wife, knowing that once upon a time that look had been solely for me. For Mrs. Marks I would do it, I would suck it up and watch the family dynamic as an outsider again, but I knew I’d die a little bit every time I was forced to. Resting my chin on my knees, my focus stayed fixed on that light, and like a star I wished on it: wished it was me with him, not her, living our dream.

Teagan

Simon and I sat in the hospital waiting room, but we weren’t allowed into Mrs. Marks’s room. Apparently she was having a bad day, but she was still listed as stable, so that was something. I tried not to think about it, but what if she didn’t recover from this? I had missed so many years, and with the thought that she could die with things the way they were between us, I wanted to weep again. Trying to stay positive, I pushed my fears out of my head, but then thoughts of Kane settled in as well as the dread I felt at facing him again. I really didn’t want to know whatever it was he had to say, didn’t think there was anything he could say to heal the hurt he had caused. And yet I was going to see him and hear him out, because it wasn’t possible for me not to.

While sitting there, hoping the doctors would give us at least five minutes with Mrs. Marks, I saw Kane appear at the end of the hall. Everything just seemed to stand still as I got my first look at him in five years. My heart rate sped up at the sight of him. He looked beautiful. His hair was still long, so it brushed his shoulders but, unlike the last time I saw him, it wasn’t messy. It looked windswept and sexy as hell. He was taller, maybe even taller than Simon, and his shoulders, always so big, were even wider, his waist narrow, his thigh muscles showing in relief against the faded denim of his jeans. His face was turned away, so I couldn’t see his eyes—and I missed those eyes, even though they’d been haunting my dreams. And following that nearly perfect moment of silent appreciation came a stabbing pain that stole my breath. I should have realized that he would have been visiting Mrs. Marks too.

“Shit.” I sank lower in my chair.

“What? What’s happened?” Simon had been totally engrossed in the magazine he was reading—he could tune out better than anyone I knew.

“That’s him.” Why the hell did he have to look so freaking good?

Simon’s head snapped in the direction I was looking. “Kane? He’s hot. Too bad he didn’t go bald or get fat.”

My head snapped in his direction. “I was just thinking that same very thing,” I said. Talk about uncanny.

“Great minds and all. So is that the wife?”

Kane walked along the corridor with one of the nurses, her arm draped through his. Their heads were turned toward each other, and she was laughing at something he’d said. Sweet, almost intimate, and definitely not his wife.

“No, that’s not the wife.”

“You think he’s stepping out? Or maybe they didn’t work out. Maybe he’s a player—turned into a real Don Juan.”

My focus shifted back to Simon. “You’re getting a little excited.”

“I know, but I do love a good intrigue. So what do you think is going on over there?”

“I never thought he was a player, but he isn’t the boy he was, so I don’t know. Maybe he is a slut now.”

Simon was eyeing Kane, and I knew his thoughts as if he were speaking them out loud.

“He doesn’t go your way, and even if he did, would you seriously tap that after what he did to me?”

“No, but a man can dream.”

“You’re an idiot.” They drew closer, so I grabbed a magazine and held it to my face. The last thing I wanted was to have a chitchat with Kane. But he didn’t even glance over when they passed by us. Had he seen me and purposely avoided me like we were in grade school? Sure, I was doing that to him but, as the wounded party, I was entitled.

“I guess he doesn’t want to talk to you any more than you want to talk to him.”

“Fuck that.” I stood, dropping the magazine on the table, and started after Kane and his tart. When I was practically on top of him I snarled, “Hey, Kane. How the hell are you?” His whole body jerked like I’d hit him. I wished I had.

Slowly, he turned around, but those eyes were just as lifeless as they had been five years earlier.

“Teagan, you’re home.” So much for the lessons in giving people eye contact that Mr. Clancy drilled into us. Asshole.

“Not home. Visiting. Home’s Boston now. This place has too many bad memories. So who’s this? What happened to your wife, Kane? Did you not want that permanency either?”

For just a second I saw what looked like pain cross over his expression, but I just didn’t care anymore. “Careful, he won’t linger long, this one,” I said to the woman. “A rolling stone, always on the move. Best to not get your heart involved. It hurts like a mother when he rips it from your chest and stomps on it. Believe me, I know from personal experience.”

“Teagan! You’re being rude.” Kane had the nerve to call
me
rude? Oh no.

“I’m being rude? Yeah, I probably am. I’m a lot of things I never used to be. Simon, this is Kane, I told you about him. Kane, my boy, Simon.”

Simon put out his hand and Kane refused to shake it. “Now who’s being rude?” said Simon.

“We should probably get going,” the nurse said, speaking up for the first time after having watched the show like a tennis match, her expression horrified.

“By all means, I certainly wouldn’t want to hold you against your will. We know how you respond to that, don’t we?” I punched Kane in the arm playfully—and not really playfully. I nailed him pretty fucking hard and, damn, that felt good.

A chin lift was all I got from him, a chin lift before he said, “Teagan.” And then he turned and left me, again.

“Well, you really handled that well,” Simon said, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“I wasn’t at my best, but can you blame me?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s go eat. Being bitter and resentful has made me very hungry.”

He laughed, the sound so loud it echoed down the hall. My eyes were still on Kane, and I saw his body tense, even from our distance. Asshole.

Simon was schmoozing Mrs. T, working his wiles so he could get a sample of every dish she was making for dinner. Growing up, I thought Kane could pack food away, but Simon put him to shame. I honestly didn’t understand how the man could eat the way he did and still stay so fit. He worked out, but not as much as I would have to. Life wasn’t fair.

Standing on the balcony off my room, my thoughts roamed all over the place. We never did get in to see Mrs. Marks. It concerned me how sick she was. I felt guilty for not coming home, even though I knew she understood why I hadn’t visited. And seeing that reason the day before—Kane—for the first time in five years, I’d expected to feel anger and bitterness. But under that, there was a longing that had never gone away. I hated that he had that kind of power over me, especially since clearly I didn’t have that kind of power over him.

He had moved on, apparently was still moving on, if the scene at the hospital was any indication. I couldn’t lie, seeing him with that woman had been more painful than meeting his wife. It sounded crazy, but over the years I had rationalized to myself that he’d left me to be with the one he planned on spending the rest of his life with. She hadn’t been, though, and that only threw in my face how right I had been to fear that I had really been no more than a convenience.

He was still so altered from the boy he had been. Why? I still wanted so desperately to know what had happened to him that had changed him so completely. Mr. Clancy had said there was more to the story and, despite myself, I found I really wanted to hear it.

And still my heart ached for him, missed him, missed us. Hated that I would never be free of him, that my love for him had turned into a life sentence. Suddenly the years ahead seemed rather bleak.

Pushing it from my head for now, since thoughts of Kane only led to pain, I left my room. Moving through the house, I marveled over Mrs. Marks’s treasures. Having studied art history at school, I couldn’t believe I’d grown up in a museum, but had never realized what she had. And yet, it felt like a home: warm and cozy, despite the rare antiquities all around.

Reaching the library, déjà vu washed over me at the sound of voices within, voices I recognized immediately: Kane and Camille. Jealousy, waves of it, crashed over me, even though I had no claim on Kane anymore.

“I’m going to the party too, so I can pick you up, if you’d like.” Camille was still sniffing around. Get a life already. He wasn’t interested.

“Sure, thanks.” My jealousy darkened. He left me, broke my heart over the phone, removed himself completely from my life, and now he was going to parties with Camille, someone I knew he didn’t even like. What the fuck? Strolling into the room, I didn’t even bother hiding my contempt.

“Camille, how have you been?” She looked terrible. I found comfort in this observation. “You’re looking a bit tired. Are you okay?” Mean, petty, beneath me, and oh so satisfying.

Smug was the best word to describe the expression that passed over her face. What the hell did she have to be smug about? Well, besides the obvious that Kane was talking to her and not me.

“Teagan. So you’ve finally decided to grace everyone with your presence.”

“If you want to put it that way, sure. Still got your sights set on this house?”

That got her. Surprise flashed over her face. Take that, bitch.

“Just visiting an old friend. While you were off doing whatever you were doing, Kane and I have become rather close.”

“Camille.” That one word from Kane held meaning, I was sure, and yet I had no idea what that meaning was.

“Well, it’s true. You never looked back, did you, Teagan? As close as the two of you were, you sure as hell severed all ties, and quickly. You should have looked back.”

“Enough,” Kane barked.

Looked back—what the hell was she talking about? It had come from her mouth first, and in great detail, the developing affection between Kane and Doreen. Camille had relished in telling me
that
news, knew the impact it would have on me—Kane moving on. And it had been him who had moved on, going so far as to get married. Why the fuck would I want to look back on that? “Seems my lack of looking back, as you call it, worked in your favor.”

“Indeed, but we’re just friends.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Kane dumped me, and it seems like the little wife couldn’t hold on to him either. His affection is fickle, so you may get your hands on him, after all.”

She was like a rabid dog, drooling over the possibility.

“You deserve each other,” were my parting words before I swept out of the room.

I fumed as I stomped down the hall, because, of all the people to be sitting in that room with him, it was fucking Camille. As if I hadn’t been through enough because of him, and now he was entertaining her? And she just loved throwing that in my face. Stopping dead, I struggled with the need to walk right back into that room and punch him, punch them both, but that wasn’t the proper way to handle a conflict, apparently.

Footsteps down the hall turned my attention to Dimitri Falco. Now what the hell was he doing? He moved around the house like he was looking for something as I followed him. His fingers, long, thin, and creepy looking ran along several of Mrs. Marks more valuable pieces.

“Can I help you?”

Snapping around, his startled expression would almost have been comical if not for the underlying hostility that pulsed off him. He’d been so consumed with his thoughts, which I just bet were sinister, that he hadn’t noticed he had company.