really. Her heart ached. “Will you?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to give it some thought.”
The coolness in his voice sent a chill over her, but she hadn’t walked where Brad had walked. Hadn’t been on the receiving end of abuse that drove you to despair, drove you to take chances you knew you shouldn’t. She thought about Travis. Well, maybe she had walked a mile or two in his shoes.
Maybe more than that. Hadn’t her experience with Travis caused her to look up an old friend and ask him to have sex with her? And then gone and stupidly fallen in love with him?
Oh, yeah. She’d taken some chances that she’d known she shouldn’t. And had taken them anyway.
She pushed the thought away. It wasn’t the same thing at all.
Wasn’t it?
Clearing her throat, she cast around for something to say. “How long does he have?”
“Three months. Maybe four.”
Sadness washed over her. She would probably be out of Brad’s apartment by that time. Would he even tell her what was happening with his father?
Maybe. The lovemaking they’d just shared said he might.
And as much as she wanted to close her eyes and ignore it, a little kernel of hope was lodged firmly in her heart. Like a blood clot that preceded a heart attack?
God, she hoped not.
Maybe there was the equivalent of a clot-busting drug she could take that would get rid of the thing once and for all.
Or maybe she could just ignore whatever it was and pray she had the symptoms all wrong. That what she’d thought was love was actually just a bad case of indigestion that would soon wash through her system, never to be seen again.
Yeah. Right.
Because lying in bed with him right now, she knew there was no place she’d rather be. Now, if she could only convince Brad to give them a chance...
“MOM, HOW ARE YOU?”
Chloe opened the door to the apartment and gave her mother a hug. Her mother was earlier than she’d expected. Thank heavens Brad had already left for work and she was up and dressed. First Jason and now her mother. But at least her mother had called last night to make sure it was okay to drive over. No rushing around to cover up her and Brad’s nocturnal activities.
“I know you said you were fine, but I wanted to come by and see for myself.” She cupped her daughter’s face and studied her. “You look good. Happy.”
“I am. I feel like I’ve been given a new lease of life.” She tugged her mother inside. “I have some coffee made if you want some. Can you stay? Oh, I have so much I want to tell you.”
Her mom laughed. “There’s a new-fangled device called the telephone, you know.” Her smile faded. “I kept hoping you’d call. Jason said you were doing okay, but I was worried.”
Chloe led the way into the kitchen and pulled down two tea cups. Brad’s mother’s china pattern. The woman he was supposed to take care of. “I’m doing better than I expected. I really like working at the hospital.”
“And how’s Brad?”
“Fine.” She concentrated on pouring the hot liquid into the cups, hoping her cheeks weren’t steaming as much as the coffee. “He wants me to stay in the city.” She clarified, in case her mom got the wrong idea. “At the hospital.”
“And what do you want to do?”
Chloe desperately wanted to believe in happy endings. Wanted to stay here. With Brad. And be a part of his world. But she didn’t know if it was possible. He hadn’t spoken about feelings per se or hinted that he wanted to deepen their relationship. “I think I need some time to figure things out.”
“That makes sense.” Her mom spooned some sugar into her cup and stirred. “It was good of him to let you stay.”
“Yes.” She poured milk into her own cup. “Let’s go into the living room.”
Chloe put a tray on the center ottoman and set her cup and saucer down. “How’s Daddy?”
“He’s helping put a new roof on the community center.”
“In this heat?”
Her mom took a sip of her coffee. “You know him. Thinks he’s still in his thirties.”
“Yes, he does.” How could one father be in the prime of his life at fifty and another father be dying? It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t imagine losing one of her parents...would be devastated when it happened.
But not Brad. Or maybe he’d just buried his feelings so deep no one could get to them. Not even the man himself.
Could she blame him? After the way his childhood had been?
But it wasn’t just his parents he seemed to be apathetic about. He’d had dozens of women over the years, probably more. And yet none of them had made a dent in that armor he wrapped around himself. He’d never mentioned Katrina again. It was as if the woman had never existed.
As much as Brad disliked locks, that hadn’t stopped him from boarding up his heart and padlocking it shut. Who knew if the right key even existed? Or if it did, if she could find it. She had no idea where to start looking.
Her mom was saying something, looking at her quizzically.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked how you like the city so far.”
That was an easy question. “I love it.”
“I was kind of hoping you might want to come home. We miss you.”
Chloe wrapped her hands around the delicate china cup, the expensive porcelain feeling brittle all of a sudden beneath her palms. “I miss you too. I just don’t think I can go back right now.”
“Maybe after the divorce goes through?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you need me to stop by the house and pick up your clothes? Or I could ask Travis to send them.”
The thought made her cringe. “No, I don’t want anything that’s there.” Clothes and shoes were replaceable, and she’d rather not have any reminders of that time.
Her mom was silent for a moment or two. “What happened, Chloe?”
Lord, she didn’t want to go through any of the sordid tale. “He hurt me.”
“Physically?”
“He didn’t hit me, no.” She was going to leave it at that. No need to tell her family that what had started out as verbal ridicule had escalated into a form of abuse. Layla’s words had convinced her it really had been. How far would he have gone if she hadn’t found out about his affairs? Maybe he’d even wanted her to discover the truth just to hurt her more.
“I’m sorry, honey. Why didn’t you come to your father or me?”
“I just couldn’t.” Maybe for the same reasons Brad had never told anyone about his own abuse.
“Chloe, look at me.”
Her eyes came up and found blue eyes so like her own probing, trying to find a way to help, just like she always had. Tears pricked and she blinked to keep them at bay.
Her mom took the cup from her hands and placed it on the tray, then she pulled Chloe close and wrapped her arms around her. Chloe rested her head on her shoulder, just like she had when she’d been a little girl, and let her mom’s love wash over her. “Don’t