Prodigal Son (35 page)

“Did you ever talk about it? Ask her why?” Derek wanted to know.

Ethan shook his head. He’d had questions, things he’d wanted to know, but the anger that had followed hard on the heels of her fait accompli had meant that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with her. Or, more accurately, he couldn’t trust himself to be in the same room as her. He’d wanted to hurt her. Make her suffer for hurting him and making a decision about their child without consulting him. Most of all he’d wanted to punish her for not loving him even though he still loved her, even after what she’d done.

Then she’d taken up a job with a multinational insurance company and moved to Singapore and he hadn’t heard from her until the divorce papers arrived a year later. She’d sent him a letter a month after their divorce was finalized, but he’d burned it without reading it.

“Maybe you should.”

“What’s to know? She changed her mind. She didn’t want to be with me. Game over.”

It was hard to say it out loud, but it was the truth. After twelve years together, the woman he’d loved had simply walked out of his life, leaving him gasping like a landed fish. He’d gone over and over and over it in his head, but that was what it boiled down to. She’d stopped loving him, and she’d left.

Derek started to say something then stopped when his stomach growled demandingly. “You got anything to eat? Some pretzels maybe?”

“Pretzels. No, I do not have pretzels. But I can make us some bruschetta if you like.”

“I would like. I would like a lot.”

Ethan started pulling ingredients from the fridge, glad to have something constructive to do. He could feel Derek watching him as he diced the onions and squeezed the seeds out of the tomatoes. When his brother finally spoke, his voice was low and careful.

“Falling for Alex must have been pretty freaking scary after all of that stuff with Cassie, huh?”

Ethan nodded shortly. He hadn’t wanted to fall for Alex. Had done his damnedest for a long time to satisfy his need to be a part of her life without getting too close, too involved. Then she’d come to their racquetball game that night all churned up over seeing her ex and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from comforting her.

“What she said is right, you know. She’s not Cassie,” Derek said.

“I know that.” Ethan cut the remainder of a French stick into slices.

“But it doesn’t make a difference?” Derek asked.

Ethan put down the knife and looked at his brother. “I don’t believe in happy-ever-after. Not after everything I see in my job, and not after Cassie.”

“But you want to.”

Ethan let his breath out in a rush. “Yes.”

More than anything he wanted to be able to let go of the past and take the hand Alex was offering him and step into the future alongside her. But he didn’t know how to let go of the hard-won lessons of his past. He didn’t know how to let down his guard and trust again.

“I’m not going to tell you that there’s no way it could happen again and that Alex would never do that to you. Even though I think it’s true, life doesn’t come with guarantees and safety nets,” Derek said.

“No shit.”

“Do you love her?”

Ethan gave his brother a look. “Why do you think you’ve got a wet shoulder?”

“Then trust your gut.”

If only it were that easy.

“I loved Cassie, too, and look where that got me. I thought I knew her inside and out. I slept next to her for twelve years and I had no idea how she was feeling, what she was thinking.”

“I don’t know what to say to you. I want you to be happy. I want you to have what I have. I see you with my kids and it kills me that you might never know what it feels like to be a part of something so amazing. But like I said, you’ve got every reason in the world to be gun-shy. The best I can do is tell you that Kay’s my best friend. My day isn’t right if I don’t wake up and see her face on the pillow beside me. Pathetic but true, and if you ever tell her I said any of this I’ll mess up those pretty-boy looks of yours for good. She’s my rock, and I don’t want to imagine my life without her in it. And yeah, there’s a risk attached to all of that. But if the choice is between loving her or playing it safe… Well, I’ve made my choice.”

Derek shrugged to indicate he’d run out of words but Ethan understood what his brother was saying: love was a leap of faith. After what had happened with his first marriage, Ethan appreciated that fact more than most, but at the end of the day it was the same for everybody. People were fickle, feelings changed, circumstances changed, and people grew together and grew apart. Love was a crapshoot. A risk. And the price of failure was high.

The question was, was a lifetime with Alex worth the risk?

A memory hit him: that night when he’d brought round his chicken dinner, she’d lain on the couch and he’d coaxed her into letting him rub her feet. She’d closed her eyes as he massaged first one foot then the other and he’d watched her face relax and a small smile curl her mouth. She’d been soft and vulnerable and content, and he’d helped make her that way and for a few precious moments he’d felt as though he was in exactly the right place with exactly the right person doing exactly the right thing. He’d felt as though he belonged, as though his cautious heart had found a home.

He reached for a tea towel and wiped his hands. Derek’s gaze followed the action. A slow smile dawned on his face.

“Tell me you’re going to find her.”

“I’m going to find her.”

“Good man.”

His brother caught him in a one-armed hug and pounded an approving fist on his back. Ethan figured they’d used up their annual quota of physical affection in the space of a single hour, but he could live with that. His brother had been his lifeline tonight, the voice of reason he’d needed to help him navigate around the wreckage of the past.

“Thanks. I owe you.”

“I figure we’ll get it out of you in horsey rides and free babysitting.”

“Done.”

He strode for the door, scooping up his car keys from the hall table.

“I’m going to grab some of this bread to eat on the way home, if that’s all right?” Derek said, trailing after him. “Since you don’t have pretzels.”

Ethan laughed. He’d forgotten all about the bruschetta in his rush to get to Alex.

“Help yourself.” He opened the door.

“Call me,” Derek said. “Let me know how you do.”

Ethan gave him a look.

Derek shrugged. “I’m feeling a little invested here.”

“Don’t forget to lock up when you leave,” Ethan said.

Then he headed for the elevator, praying every step of the way that Alex would be home.

Chapter Ten

D
on’t think about him. Don’t think about him, don’t think about him, don’t think about him.

Alex kept up the mantra as she let herself into her apartment and searched for a distraction. There was no point dissecting what had happened between her and Ethan. It wouldn’t change anything. She’d offered him her heart, and he’d offered her a time-share agreement. There was nothing left to explore.

If only she could exorcise the memory of his stricken face and the pain in his voice from her mind. If only there hadn’t been those few seconds when she’d let her hope have wings and she’d believed for a small, precious moment that things were going to work out between them.

A memory hit her as she flicked on the light in her living room. The first time she’d ever seen Ethan had been in the foyer of Wallingsworth & Kent’s offices. He’d been arriving for a meeting with the senior partners, having been wooed away from one of the other big Melbourne firms. She hadn’t known any of that at the time, of course—she’d simply seen him walking toward her across the polished marble floor, beautiful and dangerous and sexy, and she’d felt the low thud of instant attraction in her belly and thought to herself
Hello, heartbreaker.

Prescient, indeed. She should have run a mile the first time he so much as smiled at her in the kitchenette. She should have taken out a restraining order against him when he suggested they play racquetball together, and she should have dug a moat around her office when he invited her to lunch.

Instead, she’d told herself she could handle him and she’d danced with the devil and fallen in love with a man who was so unavailable he could barely make himself say the words
I love you.

And yet he had said them.

She wandered from the living room to her bedroom, thinking about those moments on the court despite her determination not to.

He’d said he loved her and that he wanted to try for a child with her. Amazing how something could be so close to a person’s dreams and yet so far away. Amazing how little it took to tempt a woman.

But she’d drawn her line in the sand and she was going to stand by it. She might be sliding down that fertility graph her doctor had drawn, and she might be lonely and sad and frustrated, but she was not a masochist. There would be nothing worse than loving a man with all her heart and only receiving portions of his in return. No, she was wrong—there was something worse. She could have a child with that man, based on the misguided idea that it might draw them together, and never truly get over him.

So many pitfalls—and she’d cleverly avoided them all. She should be giving herself a pat on the back and mixing herself a cocktail to celebrate her street smarts instead of circling her flat like a madwoman.

She walked into the bathroom then left immediately when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Best not to have confirmation of her own misery. Not while she was barely holding it together.

Do something. Do anything.

She went to the kitchen and looked around. It was sparkling clean, since she rarely made anything more messy than a tuna salad or egg on toast.

Dinner. She’d make dinner. Something elaborate, for her. Pasta. With a salad. That should keep her busy for half an hour or so. Whether she’d actually be able to choke it down or not was another question, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

She crossed to the fridge and was about to open the fridge door when her gaze fell on the phrase someone had made using her fridge poetry magnets.

Banana people bend smiles and make monkeys laugh and love.

There was only one person who’d been in her apartment lately. She stared at the stupid, nonsensical poem Ethan had created and all the bullshit she’d been using to keep herself from feeling crumbled into dust.

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the fridge door. Her chest ached. Her eyes burned. She was all out of fight.

I love you, Ethan. I love you so much.

If only he weren’t so damaged. And if only she didn’t want so much more than he had to give.

* * *

Ethan turned into Queens Road and started looking for a parking spot near Alex’s building. He had no idea what he was going to say to her, but he’d already decided to tell her everything. Cassie, the baby, all of it. He’d tell her that he was scared, even though it would be the most humbling, emasculating act of his life. She deserved the truth. To know what she was getting into.

He found a parking spot and reversed the Aston Martin into it. He was out of the car in seconds. He had to keep moving, mostly because he was terrified that if he stopped to think he’d chicken out.

I want this. I love her. She’s not Cassie.

But he’d stored so much anger and fear and pain five years ago, packed it away so tightly within, that he was afraid he’d never get past it. That he’d never be able to trust. That he’d never be able to offer Alex the things she needed.

He had to try, though. He couldn’t let her slip away without trying. He loved her too much to let that happen.

He approached the door to her building with a pounding heart.

Sack up, Stone. Where’s your freaking dignity?

But he’d shed his dignity long ago. He was coming to Alex armed with nothing but hope and a desire to love her.

He pressed the buzzer for her apartment and waited, every muscle tense. After a few seconds he buzzed her again. Again, nothing.

She wasn’t home—or she’d guessed it was him and was deliberately not answering him. He walked backward and craned his head to see if he could work out which balcony was hers. They all looked the same, and there was no dark-haired, dark-eyed woman on any of them.

He’d call her, then. And he’d keep calling and buzzing her until she let him in. He reached for his phone, then remembered he’d left it in the car. He was walking back to the Aston Martin to retrieve it when he glanced up the road and saw a slim woman in a hot-pink sweater walking briskly along Queens Road. Her back was to him, but he recognized both the straightness of her shoulders and the distinctive sweater.

Alex.

She was about a block away, heading east. He started after her. There were a number of other people out on the street, despite the fact that it was cold and dark—joggers coming home from their circuits of nearby Albert Park Lake, dog walkers, students heading out for a big night. He picked his way amongst them, lengthening his stride.

“Alex,” he called, even though he was pretty certain she was too far away to hear him.

She didn’t so much as falter or glance over her shoulder. He dodged around a guy blocking the footpath with a bike. Up ahead, Alex was approaching the corner intersection where a mini-mart was located and it occurred to him that the store was probably her goal—she was probably ducking out to get something, milk or bread or one of the disgusting frozen meals-for-one he knew she relied on.

The traffic lights changed at the intersection and Alex broke into a jog to catch the pedestrian light. The action unfolded in slow motion, the stuff of nightmares.

She’d barely set foot on the road when a low-slung red car raced past him, signal flashing to indicate a left turn into the street Alex was crossing. Ethan waited for the driver to see Alex, waited for the glow of brake lights to appear at the back of the car, but there was nothing. The driver hadn’t seen her.
He hadn’t seen her.

“Alex!” he yelled, fear an icy rush through him as the red car whipped around the corner.

The world stopped. Then he heard the sound of impact, an explosion of glass and metal and the heavy, unmistakable thud of a body hitting a car. A passerby screamed. He broke into a sprint.

Alex. He had to get to Alex. And she had to be okay. A few scratches and bruises, sure, but she had to be okay.

His legs and arms pumped as he raced the final hundred or so feet to the intersection. It felt like a lifetime. It felt as though he was traversing the world.

A crowd had gathered. Someone was already on the phone, calling for an ambulance.

“Alex,” he bellowed as he neared the crowd. “Alex!”

She had to be alive. She had to be. But the car had been going so fast, doing at least forty around the corner.

He reached the crowd, started shoving people out of the way to get to her.

If she was dead…
God,
if she was dead…

Then the crowd parted and he saw her lying on the road, blood gleaming in the streetlight beside her head—
and it wasn’t Alex.
She was shorter than Alex, fuller-breasted, her hair slightly longer. She was wearing sandals instead of sneakers and a wedding ring gleamed on her left hand.

It wasn’t Alex.

Relief hit him like a wall. She was alive. Alex was alive.

Shaken, his knees like rubber, he scrubbed his face with his hands.

He’d thought he’d lost her. For a few heart-stopping seconds he’d thought she was gone. The memory of it was enough to send bile burning up the back of his throat. All the things he’d never say to her, all the things they’d never experience together, the life they’d never have—all of it had flashed through him when he’d heard the terrible sound of impact.

But it wasn’t Alex.

Ambulance sirens sounded in the distance. The woman on the ground was trying to sit up and someone was crouching beside her, advising her to remain prone until help got there. The driver was crying and pacing and explaining to anyone who would listen that he hadn’t seen her, that the pedestrian light had been flashing red.

Ethan stood numbly in the crowd as the ambulance arrived and the paramedics got out to treat the woman. He watched as she spoke to them and gingerly allowed them to help her onto the stretcher. It wasn’t until the unknown woman was in the ambulance, the doors closed behind her that he felt able to turn away.

“Ethan. What are you doing here?”

His head snapped around. Alex was standing at the edge of the already dissipating crowd, a bag of groceries in one hand, a perplexed frown on her face. He took a moment to simply soak in the sight of her, her hair tucked behind her ear on one side. Then he strode forward and swept her into his arms. She was warm and resilient and she smelled of lemons and fresh night air and he wanted to merge his body with hers, to become a part of her so that they could never be parted and he would never, ever have to stare down the barrel of almost losing her again.

“Ethan. What’s going on?” she asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

“Don’t ever, ever do that to me again,” he said fiercely.

“Do what?”

He pulled back to look into her face. She lifted a hand to touch his cheek.

“You’re crying,” she said.

“Alex, I love you. I should have said it a long time ago but I’ve been too busy trying to cover my ass to understand that any risk is worth it if I get to have you in my life. I don’t want half measures. I want everything you want and more. Kids, marriage, a mortgage, arguments over whose turn it is to put the dog out, I don’t care what it is, I want it with you. I’ve wasted so much time, and I deserve for you to give me a hard time and make me jump through a million flaming hoops, but I love you and I want this and I’m not going anywhere until you say yes.”

“Ethan,” she said. Her eyes were wide, searching his face.

She didn’t understand. She had no idea that he’d just had a glimpse of hell.

“Alex. I thought it was you,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion. “I saw the car turning, I thought you were dead….”

He pulled her close again, experiencing the wash of terror a second time. He pressed her face to his chest and cupped the back of her head in the palm of his hand. She felt ridiculously fragile, terrifyingly mortal in his arms.

He loved her so much. So much. And yet he’d almost let fear stop him from being a part of her life. It was only when he’d been facing the loss of everything that his world had become clear to him.

Cassie’s abandonment and betrayal had been baffling and hurtful. She’d left him dangling and he’d made a fortress out of his bitterness and fear. But all the stuff he’d canvassed with Derek tonight, all his doubts and caution, none of it mattered when he’d been faced with the prospect of a world without Alex.

The ultimate wake-up call. Beside it, everything else assumed its rightful perspective. What counted was Alex. Being with Alex. Loving Alex. Building a future with Alex—if she would have him.

Her expression was grave when he finally felt able to let her go again.

He knew he should wait until they’d had a chance to talk properly. He knew that standing on a street corner a few feet from a traffic accident was probably the least romantic spot in the universe. He should take Alex home, tell her about Cassie and the divorce, make sure she understood what she’d be getting herself into if she took him on before he asked her to—

“Marry me,” he blurted. “Save me from myself, and I’ll do my best to save you when you need it, too. Marry me and have babies with me. Marry me and play racquetball with me until neither of us can bend to tie our sneakers on our own. Marry me, Alex, and make me the happiest, luckiest idiot in the world.”

Her face crumpled. His gut clenched. He’d made her cry.

“Alex, I’m sorry—”

A fist landed in the middle of his chest. “How am I supposed to resist you when you say all the right things? Can you explain that to me? How am I supposed to be strong and do the right thing when you look at me like that and ask me to marry you?”

The dread clutching his gut receded a notch. “Doing the right thing would be marrying me.”

She shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears. “You’ve just had a scare. You’re not thinking clearly. Anything you say right now is under duress.”

He smiled. Couldn’t help himself. She was adorable, so earnest, so honest. So Alex.

She smacked him in the chest again. “Don’t you dare laugh at me when I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

“Maybe I don’t need saving.”

“You do. You don’t want to be married. You’ve said so a million times. You’re freaking out right now but once you calm down you’ll regret this. And I don’t want to be a regret in your life, Ethan. I love you too much for that.”