Burn(23)
“I don’t give a damn what other women are thinking,” he said bluntly. “I’m more concerned with what you think.”
She carefully drew her hand back, the bag with the jewelry tightly fisted in her grasp, as if she were afraid he’d prevent her from taking it. When he made no move to intercept it, she quickly opened the bag a nd gently pulled out the two rings, a necklace and a bracelet.
Relief was evident in her eyes. The aqua pools lit up as she lovingly traced the lines of the jewelry. A faraway look entered her eyes and when she raised her gaze back to Ash, moisture glistened around the edges.
“Thank you for giving my mother back to me,” she whispered. “This is all I have of her. My grandmother too. One day I want to pass it down to my daughter. My grandmother and mother were exceptional women. I want my daughter to have this legacy. Though my daughter will never know them, I want her to know about them. Who they were and how important they were to me.”
“What happened to her?” Ash asked gently.
Her lips trembled, but she held herself together, her gaze never faltering, though it grew suspiciously brighter with the evidence of tears.
“Cancer,” she said, her voice aching with sorrow.
“Recent?” he asked in a quieter tone.
The last thing he wanted was to upset her, but it gave him absurd pleasure that she’d open up to him. Communicate. It was a start. The start of something more permanent if he had his way. And he had every intention of getting his way. It was just going to require a great deal more patience than he was used to having to employ.
Adrenaline spiked, burning through his veins. She was a challenge. One he looked forward to conquering. It had been a long time since he’d been excited about anything. And Josie definitely excited him.
“Two years ago,” Josie said, sadness creeping into those beautiful eyes. “But she was ill for a lot longer. In the end . . .” She broke off, her voice cracking at the very last.
“In the end what?” he prompted gently.
“In the end it was a relief even though I was devastated over having to let go and say good-bye. She was in so much pain. It hurt to see her like that. It hurt her. She hated for me to see her that way, to have to take care of her. She worried for so long that she was taking up too much of my life, that she was holding me back and saddling me with the responsibility of taking care of her. But God, she was my mother. I would have done anything for her. I never regretted a single moment of our time together. And in the end, she was ready to go. She’d fought for so long and so hard. She was exhausted and no longer had the strength to fight. That was the hardest for me. To watch my kick-ass mom slowly fade. I just wanted her pain to be over and for her to have peace. So when she passed away, there was relief. And I know that sounds horrible.”
He shook his head. “Not horrible, Josie. Human. She was your mother and you loved her. No one likes to see their loved ones endure pain and heartache.”
Josie nodded and wiped at her eye with the back of her hand. Her fingers were shaking when she lowered her hand back to the table.
“Wow, not great dinner conversation, right? Sorry to babble on like that.”
“I asked,” he said simply. “What about your father? Do you have any siblings or are you an only child?”
She blew out an unhappy sigh. “I’m an only child. My parents wanted more, but my mother couldn’t have any more after me. She had cancer once before and with all the treatments, not only could she not bear another child, but she was too weakened by the whole process. I—we—thought she’d kicked it, you know? She went twenty years in remission and then it came back. Much more pervasive this time. She didn’t respond to treatment like she did before.”