"So you changed your clothes and we had a picnic in the conservatory. After dinner I told you I was pregnant and you . . ."
He swallowed painfully.
"I reacted in the worst possible way," he grated. "I told you to leave and you did."
"Wearing the same jeans and T-shirt that I'd been wearing all evening," she finished. His face contorted savagely, and he flung the dress aside with a vicious curse. Bronwyn flinched at the sudden movement, unable to gauge his mood, not sure if he believed her or not. He brushed past her abruptly to slam his way into the en suite, and she was shocked to hear the sound of violent retching coming from behind the closed door. She hovered outside, unsure if she should venture in or wait for him to come back out. She had just made up her mind to go in, when the ghastly sounds stopped and she heard the toilet flush, followed by the sounds of water running and gargling.
He opened the door slowly, and she found herself staring up at him warily. He looked awful, hollow-eyed, hunted, and like he had aged ten years in the last ten minutes. He couldn't quite bring himself to meet her eyes.
"I . . ." he began. "I don't know . . ." He raised a violently trembling hand toward her but checked the movement abruptly, his hand falling limply back to his side.
"Bryce . . ." she murmured uncertainly, but he shook his head abruptly, lifting his eyes to her face, and Bronwyn was horrified by the depth of self-loathing she saw in his tortured gaze. It was mingled with overwhelming regret and something akin to fear and desperation.
"God, how you must hate me," he murmured.
"I don't think . . ." But it was too late, he turned away before she could say anything more and exited the room abruptly. Bronwyn felt ridiculously deflated by the anticlimactic end to such an intense conversation. That Bryce believed her was no longer in doubt, but he now seemed wholly unable to deal with his own culpability in the failure of their relationship.
"Don't bother finding Cooper," Bryce growled upon stepping out onto the sunny patio where his brother, sister-in-law, and the two toddlers were happily playing. They, all four, came to an abrupt halt at the sound of his gruff voice. Lisa and Rick looked concerned, Rhys started crying, and Kayla merely looked happy to see him, as always. While Lisa picked Rhys up for a cuddle, Kayla babbled on incoherently but Bryce couldn't focus and was unable to tell what the child was trying to communicate. It was difficult enough to understand her under normal circumstances, but the emotional turmoil he was in right now made it damned near impossible to make out what she was trying to say to him. He nodded and smiled blindly down at her, before switching his gaze to Rick.
"Why not?" his brother asked when their gazes met.
"She's telling the truth," Bryce bit off tautly, the knowledge still tearing him apart.
"How do you know?"
"A dress." Bryce shook his head in shattered disbelief. "I was so sure of what I'd seen that night, I could remember every single detail of the accident scene down to the dress she was wearing as she stood there watching me scream her name." He fought back the urge to laugh like a maniac, knowing that it would send him careening off the edge of reason. "Only she wasn't wearing a dress the night she left me, Rick. I should have known that because I now remember thinking how damned sexy she looked in those jeans, just moments before everything went to hell. Not the cocktail dress I'd been remembering her in for the last two years but a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Oh God . . . oh my God!" He saw Rick go pale and knew that he had to look equally pasty-faced. The younger man blasphemed shakily.
"So now what, Bryce?"
Bryce shook his head helplessly at his brother's question.
"Now I give her everything she wants because that's the least of what she deserves."
"What if she wants a divorce?"
It was the one thing Bryce had been trying not to think about, and he flinched from the question.
"I wouldn't blame her." Bryce's eyes fell to his happily bubbling daughter, who was trying to share her stuffed toys with a still-crying Rhys. "But I'm not sure what I'll do if she asks for one."
Bronwyn came down about an hour later to find Rick and Lisa in the conservatory with Kayla and Rhys. The children were playing together contentedly. There was no sign of Bryce. Rick hopped to his feet agitatedly when he saw her enter the room and immediately apologized.
"I was unforgivably rude and needlessly cruel, Bron," he muttered, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, but . . . damn it, Bron, he's my brother and he was so damaged and so completely changed by something we all thought was your fault. It just felt like too large an obstacle to overcome!"
"Technically it was my fault," she pointed out grimly. "He came after me that night, and if not for that he would not have had his accident."
"No, it was his fault and he admits as much. If he hadn't been such an absolute bastard about your pregnancy, none of it would have happened. I'm so sorry, Bronwyn."
"Ricky." She sighed wearily, not sure why she felt the need to comfort him but wanting to set his mind at ease nonetheless. "You were being loyal to your brother. It was his word against mine. You did what you thought was right."
"What do you plan to do now?" Rick asked after an awkward pause. He was unable to look her in the eye, and she knew how hard the truth must have hit him. Knowing how unjustly he and Bryce had treated her would not sit comfortably with someone who had such an innate sense of fairness. She knew that it would eat at him for a while and that their relationship might never go back to the way it was before.
"What do you mean?" she asked tiredly.
"Well, my brother is pretty torn up about this, Bron."
She laughed grimly at his words, cutting him off.
"Yes, and it's always about him isn't it?" she asked bitterly.
"No, it's just . . ." Rick trailed off awkwardly, not sure what to say. "Will you leave him?"
"He doesn't really want me, you know? He wants Kayla. I'm just excess baggage." She shrugged.
"He'll give you just about anything you ask for right now," Rick pointed out.
"Is that so? Well then, where is he? Maybe it's time I start making my demands. While his guilt lasts . . ."
"Bronwyn, you're being-" he began, but Lisa, who had been keeping the children occupied, interrupted whatever he'd been about to say.
"Bryce is in his study," she informed quietly, absently picking Kayla up and handing her over to Rick while she lifted Rhys into her arms. Bronwyn nodded her thanks and dropped a loving kiss on her daughter's head before turning on her heel and heading out of the room.
She didn't ring the doorbell; she wanted an honest reaction from him and did not want to give him time to mask whatever he was feeling. So she strode in confidently and then halted before she'd gotten more than two steps into the room, suddenly unsure of her decision.
He sat behind his huge desk, with his head in his hands in almost exactly the same pose as the day before but he looked so incredibly lost and alone that, for a moment, she was unsure of what her next move should be. He must have sensed her presence because he looked up unexpectedly, pinning her to the spot with his tormented gaze. It said a lot for the changed status of their relationship that he did not immediately fly off the handle because of her supposed "intrusion" into his lair.
"I can't fix this," he admitted bleakly. His voice was quivering in a way that would have killed his pride if he had been able to hear it. "I don't know how to." He looked strangely defenseless with his messy hair and his disheveled clothing, but she steeled herself against his vulnerability. While she was happy that he now knew the truth, the simple fact of the matter was that she couldn't trust him with her heart. It had never been safe with him, but she hadn't known it until he had so ruthlessly rejected her two years ago. Yes, he was now filled with regret about the mistake he had made immediately following his accident, but he still had no explanations or apologies for the behavior that had driven her out in the first place.
She did not know what to say to him, did not know what she wanted from him anymore. Just the day before she had idealistically and unrealistically imagined that if they tried to get along, their relationship would improve and they could build on that. Of course, they both had Kayla's best interests at heart and wanted to provide stability for her, but Bronwyn deserved better than a second-rate marriage, with them staying together only for the sake of their daughter. Right now Bronwyn also honestly believed that Kayla would be better off if their marriage was severed sooner rather than later. It was better than raising their baby in an atmosphere of mistrust.