A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series)(46)

Rick sighed and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I get it. Bron . . ." he said gruffly. "I love you like a sister  and while I failed you for a while there, I still want you to be happy. I  get that you don't think you can be happy with Bryce anymore. His  behavior was . . . inexplicable. But I hope you understand that I have  to go and make sure that he's okay. You stay here with Lisa, all right?"

"Yes. This can't be easy on him." She was grateful that Bryce would have  someone there for him. This wasn't what he had wanted. He had done it  for her because he thought that it would make her happy. "You'll need  these." She handed over her house keys and the electronic gate remote.  Rick nodded and-after one last hug and kiss for Bronwyn-left the room to  get dressed. He returned briefly to let them know he was leaving, and  then it was just Lisa and Bronwyn. Lisa took control of the situation,  shepherding Bron into the kitchen and pouring some sweet tea down her  throat. Bronwyn just couldn't seem to stop the endless flow of tears.

"I didn't expect it to be this hard," Bron confessed after Lisa led her to a spare bedroom.

"I know," Lisa responded quietly. "I can't even imagine how this must feel, Bron." Bronwyn laughed half hysterically.

"I think the only one right now who has any idea how I feel is Bryce.  Can you believe that? Our marriage is over and all I can think is that  Bryce would understand how I'm feeling. That I can talk to him about  this. It's so messed up . . . I had to leave the house before I sought  him out for comfort. I'm just a walking disaster, Lisa."



After aimlessly wandering around the huge house like a lost little boy,  Bryce eventually found himself standing in the nursery. That was where  he discovered a modicum of peace. He dropped into a rocking chair and  watched his precious daughter sleep. He didn't know how long he sat  there, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his  fists folded one over the other. He had his mouth pressed into his  knuckles in an effort to keep from uttering the despairing cry that had  been lodged in his throat since he'd handed over those papers all those  hours ago.

So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he remained unaware of the third  presence that had entered the room until he felt a warm hand cupping  the exposed nape of his neck. He jumped, but the hand squeezed his neck  reassuringly, and the familiar scent of Rick's aftershave immediately  dampened his fight-or-flight instincts.

He got up and followed Rick out of the room into the well-lit den. His  brother walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured a couple of  whiskeys before coming back and handing a glass over to Bryce. The scene  reminded him of the one weeks ago when Bronwyn had told him that she'd  filed for a divorce, and he forced away the sharp stab of pain as he sat  down in the same chair he had occupied that night.

They sat quietly for a while, sipping their drinks before Rick set his aside to sign something.

Bron is with Lisa. Bryce nodded an acknowledgment.





  

I know. Cal SMSed me and told me where he was taking her.

There was another long period where they merely sat and sipped their drinks.

You okay? Rick's concern was reflected in his gray eyes and Bryce shrugged.

No. The sign was curt.

I'm sorry, Bryce.

Why? Not your fault.

You know what I mean. Bryce sighed and nodded.

It was inevitable. I don't deserve her trust. Not after what I did.

Why did you react that way to her pregnancy? Rick asked, and Bryce  stared at the proud and strong man sitting across from him. But all he  saw was an earnest young boy with freckles on his nose and a gap-toothed  grin, a boy whom Bryce had once protected with every fiber of his  being. Bryce had suffered bruises, broken bones, and bloody noses for  that kid and given half the chance would do so again. Their father had  never touched Rick-had never gotten the chance-and as a result Rick was a  well-adjusted man who had never known the evil that Bryce had grown up  with.

He had never wanted Rick to know about it, had kept it from him all  these years, but as he stared at his brother he acknowledged that Rick  no longer needed his protection and right now Bryce needed to talk about  the past.

"I thought that I'd . . . be like our father," he said aloud. Rick said  nothing, merely kept his gray eyes steady on Bryce's. It gave Bryce the  courage to continue. "I thought that I would be a danger to the baby, or  Bron." Not by a flicker of an eyelash did Rick betray any emotion as  Bryce's story came pouring out. Bryce dropped his eyes, trained his gaze  on his glass, and spoke for what seemed like hours. When he risked a  glance up at his brother after the words had trickled to a stop, Rick  was leaning forward in his chair, with both hands clasped tightly around  his glass. His skin was ashen and his eyes gleaming with suppressed  emotion.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked.

"I wanted to protect you from that knowledge."

"Protecting me when I was a kid, sure . . . I get that. Protecting me now? Not so much."

"I didn't want to stain your childhood memories with the truth."

"You couldn't possibly have done that, since most of my memories involve  you and the fun we had . . ." His eyes went distant, and Bryce watched  his mouth form a foul word. "All those so-called sports injuries? He did  that?" Bryce nodded, and Rick swore again. "Sonofabitch! Shit, Bryce . .  . I'm so bloody sorry."

"Not your fault." Bryce shrugged.

"How many of those knocks did you take for me?"

"It's not important, and this is why I didn't want you to know. I didn't  want you to blame yourself. I made a decision to protect you and I did.  End of story."

"Why didn't you tell Bron about this?"

"Tell her what? That I allowed a dictatorial bastard to use me as a  punching bag? That I may turn into the same dictatorial bastard and use  my fists on her and Kayla someday? She's a hell of a lot better off  without me." The words burned like acid but they had to be said.

"Why do you think you'd hurt Bron or Kayla?" Rick asked him, and Bryce  could feel himself growling at his brother's deliberate ignorance.

"It's in my blood."

"Yeah? It's in my blood too. Think I'd ever harm a hair on Lisa's or  Rhys's head?" Bryce blinked stupidly, completely thrown by Rick's  question. It wasn't something that had ever occurred to him.

"Of course not."

"Why not? He was my father too." He watched Rick's chest heave as the  younger man sighed heavily. "Bryce, you have to talk to a therapist  about this. You have to see that you would never physically harm your  wife and child."

"Ex-wife . . ." God.

"You have naturally protective instincts, Bryce," Rick was saying, while  Bryce still reeled from the emotional impact of the words "ex" and  "wife" in relation to Bronwyn. "You . . ."

"Enough," he whispered. "Enough, Rick. Please."

Rick stopped talking but he didn't make a move to leave, merely got up  to refill their drinks and sat down again. He was clearly content to  remain sitting for however long Bryce did. Comforted by his younger  brother's stoic presence, Bryce sat immersed in his thoughts for a while  longer.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Money certainly made life a lot easier, Bronwyn reflected as she watched  the movers bring in the last of her newly acquired furniture.  Relocating from Bryce's house into her new home should have taken a lot  longer than it actually had, but with money to grease the wheels,  packing up an old life and organizing a new one took less than two  weeks.





  

She was moved in to her new "home" before she could blink, and all that  was left was the unpacking. She tried to turn it in to an adventure for  Kayla, who was being surly and uncommunicative.

"Isn't this a pretty room, Kayla?" she asked, injecting bright enthusiasm into her voice, but Kayla wasn't having any of that.

"No."

"Come on, baby, it's very pretty," Bronwyn maintained patiently. "You have a princess bed. Isn't that great?"

"No. I go home." She had only recently stopped referring to herself in the third person.

"This is our new home." Bronwyn smiled sunnily and Kayla glared at her,  her little lip protruding rebelliously. Bronwyn felt awful to have moved  her again so soon, especially since Bryce had become such an important  fixture in her life.

"I want Daddy!" She stamped her foot and Bronwyn's smile slipped a bit.

"You'll see Daddy tomorrow," she explained. "Tonight we'll sleep in our  new home. We can have ice cream. Do you want ice cream, sweetie?"

"No."

"Of course you do." Bronwyn couldn't help but smile a little at the stubbornness. "Chocolate ice cream. Your favorite."

"I no like ice kweem," she blatantly lied.

"Hey, Bron, where do you want this box?" Lisa was lugging a medium-size  box of photos, and Bronwyn directed her toward the study. Lisa, Theresa,  Bobbi, and Alice were all helping with her move and had decided to  stick around for one of their Saturday ladies' nights afterward. Bronwyn  welcomed the show of support and the company. She knew that they didn't  want her to be alone on her first evening in the new place.