Almost Perfect (22 page)

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Authors: Susan Mallery

BOOK: Almost Perfect
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“I will,” Liz promised.

Dakota waved and left.

Liz followed her son into the living room. Instead of sitting he turned to face her.

His dark eyes, so like Ethan's, were bright with emotion. He pressed his lips together, as if gathering his thoughts, then spoke.

“You should have married Dad.”

She held in a groan. Not exactly a turn she expected the conversation to take, and not a concept she looked forward to explaining.

“Is this about what that woman said on Saturday?” she asked, doing her best to sound calm.

“Sort of. Parents get married.”

“Some do. Some don't.”

Tyler glared at her. “I wanted to know my dad. I kept
asking and asking and you wouldn't tell me. You wouldn't say anything. It's not fair.” His voice escalated exponentially.

“Okay, if we're going to have this conversation, we're going to sit down and we're going to speak calmly. If you're going to get upset and yell, I'm not talking to you.”

“Fine,” he grumbled and collapsed on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest.

She sat on the coffee table in front of him, so they were facing each other.

“When I found out I was pregnant, I was terrified. I was only four years older than Melissa. Do you think she's ready to be a mom?”

He shook his head but didn't speak.

“I came back to tell your dad, but he was with someone else. A girl. And I was hurt and confused, so I left.”

“You should have stayed. You should have tried harder.”

“I know.”

“You should have,” Tyler repeated, his voice getting louder again. “He would have married you. I asked him and he said he would have married you. We would have been a family.”

She drew in a breath. “Tyler, please. I know you're upset, but I meant what I said. I'm not having a screaming match with you.” Especially not about this.

She reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked it
back. That hurt more than the questions, more than the accusations.

“He would have been my dad,” her son said more quietly.

What was she supposed to say to that? How could she explain?

“I was very young.”

“You keep saying that. I don't care. You were wrong.” His eyes filled with tears. “You kept me from my dad.”

Which is what this was about.

How was she supposed to explain about hurt pride and a bruised heart? Maybe she didn't.

“You're right,” she said again softly. “I did keep you from him. That wasn't my intent. I didn't mean to hurt either of you, but that's what happened and I'm sorry.”

“That's not good enough.” A tear slipped down his cheek. He looked away. “I needed my dad and he wasn't there.”

She thought about pointing out how she'd tried again five years ago, but fate, in the form of Rayanne, had intervened. Information Tyler would need at some point, but not now.

“I can't change the past,” she stated, feeling sick to her stomach.

“He would have come to get me,” Tyler told her, his voice fierce with emotion. “He would have wanted me with him.” He turned to glare at her. “I want to live with him. I want to live with my dad and not you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

H
ELL CAME IN THE FORM OF A
pain that wouldn't go away. Ethan's rejection was nothing when compared with her only child telling her that he didn't want to live with her anymore. It was as if Tyler reached into her chest and pulled out her still-beating heart and threw it in the trash. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All she knew was that she couldn't cry in front of him because it might upset him. An irrational, maternal response that came from instinct.

She stood, amazed that her legs still worked, then walked into the kitchen.

“Did you hear me?” he yelled, following her. “I don't want to live with you. I want to live with my dad.”

Each breath sliced through her like a knife. She half expected to see blood pouring out of her body, pooling at her feet. It felt like she was dying. Truly no death could be worse.

After finding Denise's phone number, she turned to Tyler.

“I heard you,” she said quietly. “I need to make a call, then we're leaving.”

“I don't want to go back to camp.”

“Good, because you're not.” Liz couldn't imagine making the drive. She was in no shape to negotiate the mountain road and surely shouldn't be behind the wheel of anything dangerous.

She punched in the phone number, then waited until Ethan's mother answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Denise. It's Liz.”

“Oh, hi. How are you?”

Talk about a question she couldn't answer. “I know it's really short notice, but could you please take Tyler for a couple hours? He's not sick or anything.”

“Of course. He's not at camp?”

“Not right now. May I bring him over now?”

“Sure. Is everything all right?”

No. Nothing was all right. Nothing would ever be all right again. “May I bring him now?”

There was a pause. “I'll be here.”

“Good.”

Liz grabbed her cell phone and her house keys.

“Let's go,” she told Tyler and walked out of the house.

It took less than fifteen minutes to get to Denise's place. Tyler didn't speak and Liz was grateful. When they reached the welcoming home, she stopped on the sidewalk.

“Go on in,” she said. “I'll wait here. I'll be by to pick you up later.”

Her son, the child she had given birth to, worried over and loved with her whole heart, looked at her with angry eyes. “I want to live with my dad.”

“I got that.”

“I'll run away if you don't let me.”

More wounds, she thought sadly. More pain. A few short weeks ago she and Tyler had been so close. She would never have believed he could speak to her like this. That he would want to drive her out of his life. He was only eleven. How could he not love her?

The front door opened and Denise stood there. The other woman probably wanted to ask what was wrong, but instead she gave Liz an encouraging smile, then turned to Tyler.

“Hi. Have you had lunch?”

“I'm not hungry,” Tyler groused.

“Then we've got a problem because I just ordered a pizza.”

Tyler smiled slowly. “With pepperoni?”

“It's not pizza if there's no pepperoni.”

“Sweet!” He hurried up the walkway and entered the house.

Liz watched him go, waiting for him to turn around, and say something to her. To run to her, wrap his arms around her and tell her that he was sorry. He didn't. He didn't look back at all.

“Are you all right?” Denise asked.

Liz shook her head. “I have to go,” she said, struggling not to cry. “I'll be back later.”

She hurried away.

Her arms folded, her shoulders hunched, she made her way to Ethan's office. Now that Tyler was with Denise, Liz could allow herself to think about the man responsible for all this. The man who had turned her child from her.

It had been his plan from the beginning. She realized that now. He'd been angry and hurt and desperate to get what he wanted. She was in the way, and he'd been determined to make her irrelevant.

Why hadn't she seen it? The truth was here—clearly visible in everything he did. Could reality be any bigger than the injunction? He'd played her from the beginning and she'd let him. She'd thought she was in love with him. Talk about stupid. Following her heart, letting herself trust and love again had cost her the only thing that had ever mattered.

Her son.

She pushed through the door into Ethan's construction company. The receptionist at the front desk looked up and smiled.

“May I help you?”

“No,” Liz said and headed for Ethan's private office.

The young woman got up and followed her. They reached Ethan's door at about the same time.

“You don't want to get in the middle of this,” Liz told her.

Ethan hung up the phone and stood. He took one look at Liz, then turned to the girl. “It's all right, Cindy.”

Liz stepped into the office and carefully closed the door behind her. Now that she was here, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. She'd thought she might want to throw things, to scream, to threaten. She'd worried if she had access to a weapon, she would use it. But all her energy was gone, bled away in the open wound of her missing heart.

“You don't know what it means to love a child,” she said softly. “To be willing to die to protect him. Loving a child isn't about winning. You don't deserve him. But you can't see that. You wanted to punish me. Well, congratulations. You have. You may think you've won, but you haven't. Because for now, you're a bright, shiny new toy. Eventually Tyler will see that. And then he'll come home.”

At least that's what she was telling herself with every breath. That her son would come back to her. That he would love her again. That he loved her now…still…he was just too angry to see it.

Ethan moved toward her, stopping in front of her. “What are you talking about?”

The question sounded genuine. He looked more confused than upset.

No. It was another trick. All of it. She couldn't trust him. He was the enemy—she'd been the fool who'd forgotten that.

“Tyler told me that he wants to live with you,” she
repeated flatly. “Don't pretend this wasn't part of your plan.”

“What?” Ethan took a step back. “Jesus, Liz. What are you saying? Tyler's not living with me.”

He sounded so sincere, she thought. Of course he'd made love with her as if she was important to him. As if she mattered.

“You've played me from the beginning,” she revealed. “I let you, so I suppose the blame is as much mine. You pretended to want what was best for everyone. You kissed me and touched me, all the while knowing you were going to do this. You must not have a conscience. At least the guy who tried to kidnap me was honest in his intentions.”

“Wait a minute. Stop this.” He grabbed her upper arms. “Look at me. I'm not trying to hurt you. I never talked to Tyler about coming to live with me.”

Maybe that was true. Maybe Tyler thought of that on his own, but he would have had help getting there. “Didn't you tell him that if you'd known I was pregnant that you would have married me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Didn't you talk about all the time you've missed with him? Didn't you blame me?”

“At first. I was angry. But not recently. Liz, I want what's best for him and that means you. You're great with him.”

“What was it you said that first week? That I'd had him eleven years, so you should get the rest of his childhood?”

He tightened his grip. “No. I didn't do this.”

The worst part was she wanted to believe him. “I trusted you. Even when I knew what you'd done to me before, I believed in you.”

He stared into her eyes. “Don't stop believing in me. Please, Liz. We can make this work.” He sucked in a breath. “Marry me.”

If he hadn't been holding on to her, she would have fallen. “What?”

“Marry me. It solves everything. Then we both get Tyler. It would be better for the girls, too. They could stay here with their friends. Marry me.”

She pulled free of his grip and crossed to the sofa. After collapsing, she rested her elbows on her knees and dropped her face to her hands.

It was too much, she thought. She was physically and emotionally drained. That was the only reason she hadn't run screaming into the afternoon. Or hurled a lamp at him.

Marriage as a practical solution?

“We have a child together,” he continued. “It makes sense.”

Of course it did. Because why would love enter into it? He'd married Rayanne because she was pregnant—why wouldn't he marry her because they had a child together?

She straightened. “No.”

He sat on the sofa and angled toward her. “Come on, Liz. Why not?”

Where was she supposed to start? “We don't love each other.”

Only a half truth. She loved him, but this was hardly the time to go into that.

“We like each other,” he stated. “We get along. And it's better for the kids. You said being a good parent was all about making sacrifices.”

“Not those kind.” She rose.

“Wait.” He stood. “We have to figure this out.”

“No, we don't.
I
have to.”

“Tyler is my son, too.”

“You've made that very clear—to all of us.”

She left.

Ethan stared after her, not sure if he should follow her or give her time to sort things out. He still couldn't believe what Tyler had done. The kid hadn't warned him that he was about to tell his mother he wanted to live with Ethan.

His son wanted to live with him. Ethan couldn't help feeling excited at the idea of really getting to know his son. They could have so much fun together—really bond. Not that he wanted Liz hurt.

His office door opened and Nevada stood there.

Nevada was the quietest of the triplets, the most practical. She'd studied engineering, had come to work for him and did a helluva good job. Customers liked her, the other employees respected her. When he wasn't around, she also ran things.

Now she stared at him with a combination of pity and amusement.

“You really are the stupidest man on the planet,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I would have thought the statement was self-explanatory.” She leaned against the door frame. “I just passed Liz and asked how she was. She said you asked her to marry you for practical reasons. Tell me that she's lying.”

“It's not like that.”

Nevada raised her eyebrows. “Then what's it like?”

He explained about Tyler and Liz being hurt and how getting married would solve all their problems.

“Very romantic, too,” she quipped sarcastically.

“This isn't about romance. It's about doing the right thing.”

Nevada stared at him for a long time. “I think it's about you getting what you want. You're not thinking about Liz. Why does she need to marry you?”

“Tyler needs a father.”

“Sure. But what does that have to do with Liz?”

“She's his mother.”

“Yeah. I knew that. You're not answering the question. What does Liz get out of marrying you? It's not like she needs a second income. Or housing. Most people get married because they're in love and want to be together, but you already took that off the table. So why exactly should she marry you?”

“I, ah…” He swore silently.

Something he'd never considered. Why
would
Liz
want to be with him? He blurted out the proposal without thinking. Because it was the right thing.

Just like with Rayanne, he thought. Was that so wrong?

While he knew it wasn't, he couldn't escape a nagging sense of having screwed up in the worst way possible.

Nevada shook her head. “I'll give you a hint because you're my brother. The only thing Liz needs and wants from you is for you to love her.”

“You can't know that.”

“Of course I can. It's what every woman wants. Why else would she put up with your crap? She didn't have to be this nice. She didn't have to tell you about Tyler. She could have taken her nieces back to San Francisco that first night and you would never have known. Liz has been giving you chances since she got here and I'm going to guess you've blown every single one of them.”

“No,” he retorted, even as he wondered if Nevada was right.

“Here's the thing, Ethan. You have a very limited window of time to make this right. Assuming you want to. Because if you're trying to convince Liz to stay with you, you're going about it all wrong.”

Then Nevada walked out, leaving him staring after her.

Wait. She couldn't leave like that. He had more questions. Damn.

As he stood alone in his office, he realized that
maybe his sister's point was that he had to figure it out himself.

“I'm not the bad guy,” he spoke into the silence. “I'm doing the right thing.”

But for the first time in his life, he wondered if doing the right thing was going to be enough.

 

L
IZ WALKED THROUGH TOWN
. T
HERE
were plenty of tourists on the street and she had to weave between them. Summer was a busy time, with visitors flooding the area to check out the wineries, hike in the mountains and spend time on the lake. To anyone who didn't have a gaping hole in her chest, Fool's Gold probably looked really good. She knew better. It was her own personal, living nightmare. It was the place where she'd lost both her heart and her son.

She turned onto a residential street and reminded herself that she hadn't truly lost Tyler. It only felt that way. He would come around. What she didn't know was how long it would take and she wasn't completely sure she trusted Ethan to be impartial. A part of him had to love the fact that his son wanted to live with him.

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