He braced his legs apart, placing his hands on his hips. His pose reminded her of a warrior ready to do battle. "We've moved forward. We're happy. I don't know how you could possibly doubt my commitment to you."
Temper coursed through her veins. She stood from the bed and faced him. "There's that word again. Commitment. Oh, you've done your duty well, marrying me to be with Becca. You've said you moved on. But have we really, Tristan? Or do we just keep replaying the past, over and over?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I forgave you for keeping Becca from me!"
"I don't need your forgiveness for doing something I was pushed to do! God, don't you remember how cold you were when you left? How you treated me like we'd never grown up together or been a part of each other's lives? Like a responsibility you didn't want anymore? You came back because you were lonely, not because you truly wanted to be with me. I had no choice, and I'll back up my decision to the very end because I did it all for Becca."
"How do I know you ever planned to tell me?" he asked. "How am I ever supposed to trust you again?"
She blinked back angry tears, shaking her head. "I don't know. All I can tell you is when Becca was older, I always intended to give you both the truth. When we began to grow close after I made CFO, I saw a different man. One who was ready to really open up his heart. I knew it was time, so I took a leap of faith. But then it happened again. You shut down and closed up, and I'm fighting for something bigger, Tristan. I'm fighting for us."
"You want me to say the words? Will that help everything go back to the way it was so we can move on?"
Pain shredded through her, but she kept her gaze steady on his. Even now, his golden eyes swirled with a hint of fear, as if losing control was beyond him. Diane had always told her he was the one she worried about the most, and Sydney knew why. It was so hard for him to admit vulnerability and give trust. To be open enough to say I love you without holding back. Losing his mother had just made everything worse, made it easier to shut himself off.
Was it even possible for him to take such a risk?
"You still don't understand," she said softly. "Or you don't want to. If you can't give me your heart completely, we don't have a chance. I thought I could do this, but I can't. I can't be mad at you for not feeling the same way. For not loving me like I've always loved you. But I can't pretend not getting it isn't destroying me a little bit each day. Is this what you want? Don't we deserve to show Becca how two people should truly love each other?"
"Becca is shown every day how two people should treat each other. Why do you always have to push for more? For things I can't give you!"
Shock carved out his expression as he threw out the words. The truth seeped into her skin and bones and soul. He didn't love her the way she needed. She'd believed this marriage would give her the time and space to win his heart. But the waiting game couldn't go on forever, especially when each day she'd resent him more for not loving her enough.
"I understand."
"No, you don't understand, Sydney. I didn't mean it like that."
A sad smile curved her lips. "Yes, you did. I'd rather have the truth than a lie. We can't keep doing this, Tristan. Eventually we'll hurt Becca, and she deserves more. You're an integral part of her life now, and I don't think you ever have to be afraid of not being involved with her on a daily basis. But being married to you? I can't do it anymore."
Was that panic she spotted in his expression? He took a step forward, his hand reaching out. "No. We can work this out. Dammit, do you really want to lose what we've had? What we've built?"
"Yes, I do." She squared her shoulders and told her own truth. "Because I deserve more than you can give, Tristan Pierce. It's about time I realized that."
She walked away with her head held high.
This time, when she went into another bedroom for the night, he didn't come after her.
chapter twenty-six
The house was quiet.
He paused in the kitchen, looking around. Syd had taken Becca to ballet this morning. The cleaners hadn't come yet, and the space still held the joyous clutter of two females. Glossy catalogs and colorful magazines lay scattered on the counter. There were remnants of chocolate chip cookies by the stove. Two high-heeled shoes and one pair of pink flip-flops had been kicked underneath the table. A pink unicorn with long hair and a gown-less Snow White took up two chairs. The scents of orange blossoms and coconut drifted in the air. A Frozen ChapStick and a bottle of pink nail polish sat lined up neatly next to his expensive bottle of French wine.
His throat burned as he poured himself a glass of water. They'd gotten used to horseback riding on Saturdays, but Sydney had canceled this one. It had only been a few days since their confrontation. He'd been hoping things would go back to normal after she settled down and realized what she meant to him. Instead, she'd spent last night at Morgan's, informing Becca she was having a grown-up sleepover party and they'd have a father-daughter night.