Always Devoted (12 page)

He reached for her.  But she eluded his embrace and he knew that was the way it was going to be from now on.

Chapter Seven

"Please leave."  Emma's voice shook as she made the request, her heart hurting more than she ever thought possible.

Betrayal battled with astonishment and fought with an overwhelming sense of desolation.  What had happened to her life?  What had happened to Paige's?  What had become of the little sister who had meant everything to her?

She felt as if she were going to fly apart at the seams.  Linc had to leave.  She couldn't face him feeling like this.   She couldn't face him knowing she'd failed as a wife and as a sister.  How could any of this have happened?

But he didn't do as she requested.  Oh, no.  He sat there as still as a stone, staring at her.  "Paige is alive," he reminded her.

Yes, Paige was alive.  And part of her wanted to jump up and down with joy...or go find her sister and hug her...tell Becky and the world that Paige had been found.  Yet this black cloud that came with that news threatened to smother her in sorrow.

Linc shifted closer to her and she wanted nothing more than to hide herself in his arms.  But the realization that her husband had betrayed her, had been unfaithful, convinced her to look at Linc differently, too.  Her father hadn't known the meaning of vows.  He'd left.  And now to learn that she herself had chosen wrong...that her husband had tossed their vows as if they were worth nothing...caused her world to totter on its axis.

She needed to know what happened.  Her mind was spinning with all the scenarios.  But did she really want to know?

"He was older than Paige," Linc said.  "He should have been her protector, not at the worst her seducer or at the least succumbed to temptation."

Linc sounded angry and Emma wasn't sure who he was angry with.

"We'll never know what happened."  Maybe that was best.

"You don't think you can look into your sister's eyes and see the truth?"

"I don't know if I can look into
anyone's
eyes and see the truth."

Linc looked as if she'd landed a blow.  She wanted to say she was sorry.  But she was just being honest with him.  Earlier she'd given into desire and a passion like she'd never known.  But Linc hadn't been able to say what he'd felt.  He hadn't been able to say she was important to him...more than an affair that could burn out if another prettier woman came along...or if his schedule got too busy...or he decided she wasn't what he wanted after all.

Barrett had made that decision.  He'd turned away and looked to someone else.  "Can you leave me alone, Linc?  I can't think straight right now.  I can't even fathom how I'm going to face her and what I'm going to say.  For the past few months, I thought she was dead!"

"You don't want me to help you think this through?"

"You can't.  This didn't happen to you.  You weren't betrayed by the people you loved most."

"I know what betrayal feels like," he reminded her.

Yes, he did.  Someone he'd loved had betrayed him, too.

When Linc stood, he didn't move away immediately.  "This man, Tim Levine, really put himself out for Paige.  He likes her, and I think she likes him.  Apparently this happened during the holidays before Barrett died.  I believe Paige confided in Levine because he was a stranger and she didn't have anyone else to turn to."

"She had me!  If Barrett forced himself on her, she should have come to me."

"I'm not sure force was involved.  I think liquor and bad judgment was.  But that's for you to pull out of Paige."

"Why did she run away?"

"Because she didn't want to ruin you memories of Becky's dad.  Because your marriage had been sacred to you and she didn't want to spoil that.  Because she felt guilty living with you."

"If she felt guilty, then she
did
do something wrong."

"That doesn't mean you can't forgive her.  That doesn't mean you can't forgive yourself for not seeing any of this."

"I'll say it again, Linc.  This didn't happen to you.  I don't even know where to start to begin to deal with it."

"By seeing Paige."

When he bent and stroked her cheek, his thumb dragged against her jawline, reminding her of every place he'd touched...every place he'd kissed.

Finally he did what she'd asked.  He left her room.

After he did, her tears began falling and she didn't know if they'd ever stop.

#

Paige's apartment was located in a stucco building near other stucco buildings of the same ilk.  Emma guessed college students were their main renters.  She had planned to drive here herself, but Linc had insisted he'd drive her and stay in the car if that's what she wanted.

That wasn't necessarily what she wanted, but that's how it was going to be.  She knew Paige might not come home.  If Tim Levine had told her that Emma was here, her sister could have chosen to run again.  But this time that was her prerogative.  This time if she wanted to run, Emma wouldn't stop her.  She wouldn't look for her, either.  Not again.

Paige's apartment was located to the front of the building, so Emma knew Linc could see her as she propped against the black porch railing.  They were going to fly back to L.A. this afternoon...with or without her sister.

When Emma saw Paige hurrying up the street—her job must have been within walking distance—a burst of feeling erupted inside of her including joy and bitterness...relief and pride, embarrassment and disappointment.  Her emotions had been in a swirl like this ever since last night.  Ever since she'd made love with Linc and decided escape could be forever.  But then again, she remembered Linc's withdrawal, the ease with which he'd reached for a condom, the words when he told her that her husband and sister had betrayed her.

Paige stopped when she saw Emma, then slowly approached her.  Her sister was only twenty, yet she looked older now.  She'd let her short hair grow out, and she no longer sported a blue stripe in the front.  She was wearing yellow shorts, a red beaded tank and her ever-present sneakers, carrying an embroidered canvas tote bag with the shoulder strap over her arm.

As she reached the porch, Emma said, "I want to hug you, but I can't.  I'm trying to keep an open mind.  But I don't know what to say or do."

Tears were running down Paige's cheeks and Emma tried to steel herself against them.  But this was Paige, her baby sister.  She'd taken care of her when her mother couldn't.  She'd taken her in because they were family.

"Will you come inside with me?" Paige asked, searching in her huge tote bag for a tissue, then swiping at her nose.

Emma glanced at the SUV with Linc in it and wished she was there with him...wished even that he was here with her.  But how was she going to able to trust again?  How was she going to be able to know what to believe?

Instead of waiting for an answer, Paige unlocked her apartment door, then held the screen.  Emma stepped over the threshold, wishing she were anywhere else but here.  Inside, Emma noticed a mishmash of furniture, but then Paige's touches here and there—a crocheted shawl over the back of the sofa, colorful woven mats on the end tables, a small sewing machine on a card table with an unfinished project spread across its tray.  It looked as if it could be a skirt.

After Emma sat on the sofa, Paige sunk down on the coffee table, facing her.  "What are we going to do?"  Paige asked the question as if she were six instead of twenty.

"You're going to tell me what happened.  All of it."

As Linc had said, when she looked into her sister's eyes, she'd be able to see the truth.  What she saw there now was shame, remorse and even self-loathing.

"How long did it go on?" Emma asked, steeling herself for the answer.

"Oh, no!  It was nothing like that.  Nothing like that," she repeated for emphasis.  "I never even thought of Barrett that way.  He was like a big brother."

"Some big brother," Emma murmured.

Paige hung her head.  "I just don't know how to explain it.  You and Barrett were my family.  After Mom died, you were everything to me.  After you married Barrett, I didn't know how it would be.  I didn't know if I'd be in the way.  But we all got along.  Barrett didn't seem to care that I was there.  In fact, he wasn't even there that much.  So it was often like you and me still sharing a place.  Then Becky just made everything better.  I love playing with her, babysitting her.  But then the year before Barrett died, I noticed he...watched me.  I had turned eighteen and it was like that changed something between us."

"What did it change?" Emma asked, trying to remember herself, wondering why she hadn't seen whatever was going on.

"You were working more hours.  After Maris retired, she began watching Becky instead of you taking her to daycare.  When I was home on Thanksgiving break and you'd be working late, I'd put Becky to bed and then Barrett and I would eat together.  We joked, we laughed.  But there was this...tension in the air.  I didn't understand it exactly.  I'm not saying I didn't like the attention he gave me.  I always liked talking with him from everything about sports to music.  But now...there was something else.  I wanted to talk to you about it.  But how could I?  There were no words to explain it.  Maybe I was naïve, but I thought Barrett was just missing you."

She took a long breath, studied Emma's face then plunged ahead.  "He complained about how Becky had come between you...how after she was born, everything was different.  I wasn't completely sure what that meant."

Emma knew exactly what that meant.  It meant there were few long candlelit dinners out.  It meant Barrett would want lovemaking to continue even if Paige was in the next room or if Becky cried.  It meant Emma had Becky on her mind first and her husband's sexual needs second.  She'd been at fault here.  She just hadn't known the depth of it.  Had he resented the fact she'd had care of her sister?  He'd married her knowing she did.  But then when Becky had come along—

"It happened the Friday after Thanksgiving, your busiest and longest day of the year," Paige said quickly as if she was eager to finally unburden herself.  "Barrett came home early with two bottles of wine and a dinner he'd picked up.  He'd called earlier and said he didn't want me to worry about cooking.  After Becky went to bed, we could warm up the dinner and relax.  So that's what we did.  He put in a DVD and we ate dinner in the living room.  He kept pouring wine and I should have stopped.  I shouldn't have had any at all.  But he was making me feel so grown-up...so appreciated..."  She shrugged and threw up her hands.  "I don't know, Em.  I just don't know.  Before long, my head was swimming.  He kissed me.  I'd never been kissed like that before!"

With their mom dying, and Paige's introverted nature, she hadn't dated much in high school.  Once she'd started college, with all the design projects that she'd had to develop, she hadn't had time for much of a social life.  Emma could see the truth in what Paige was telling her.  Now she could also see her husband in a different light.  She remembered his retreat from meaningful conversation, his late nights, his jealousy of their baby.  He'd felt left out and unappreciated.  So he'd taken advantage of the one person Emma loved most after Becky...Paige.

Paige's tears were falling again as she recalled everything that had happened.  "It all happened so fast!  One minute we're laughing at the movie and the next he's kissing me.  Then our clothes were almost off and he's whispering to me how this will be our secret.  Our secret.  I let him do it.  I didn't say no."

"Oh, Paige," Emma breathed, crying now too for everything that was lost—her marriage, Paige's innocence, bonds that should have lasted a lifetime.  She could see how it had all played out.  She could see how Barrett had taken advantage of Paige...how he'd taken revenge for his resentment of the way his marriage had gone.  Finally, she could see how Paige had been overwrought with guilt, unsure of what to do, not knowing where to turn.

Without hesitation, Emma leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Paige.  They cried together for what they'd both lost...and for the relationship that might never again be the same between them.

Chapter Eight

"Your secretary doesn't look too happy." Jake made this remark as he stepped inside Linc's office without knocking.

"That's because—"  Linc tossed down the screenplay he'd been trying to read.  "Ah, hell!  I snapped at her.  I'm going to have to give her an extra vacation day or something."  It had been three weeks since he'd returned from San Diego with a silent Emma and a knowing in his gut that she'd backed away permanently.

Jake appeared to not know which subject to tackle first—the extra vacation day or the snapping.  "Have you talked to Emma lately?"

Linc glared at him.

But Jake didn't back down.  "Have you called her?"

"No, I haven't called her.  She's dealing with enough right now."

"How do you know what she'd dealing with if you haven't spoken to her?"

"Don't give me the third degree.  Gillian already did that a couple of days ago."

"Answer the question, friend."

Jake's emphasis on the word "friend" made Linc take a figurative step backward.  Jake was his friend, a reminder that he could say what was on his mind.  So he admitted, "I called Levine.  He said Paige was staying in San Diego for the time being.  He sounded happy about it.  I don't know how Emma feels."