Pregnant by Morning(34)

There. Not here. Venice was a temporary fix. She knew that. So why did it make her so sad?

“Are you jealous that your brother is happy?”

At least they had that in common.

“No. Not really. Maybe a little.” He sounded defeated all at once. “Mostly I’m glad. I never thought he’d get married. He was kind of a screwup. But he met this woman who transformed him into a guy I didn’t recognize. He’s responsible. Committed. Expecting a baby who will be the first of the next generation of Wheelers. That was my role. A role I couldn’t do any longer. And I need to figure out how to do it again.”

He had more demons than she’d realized. “You’re not just trying to get over Amber. You’re trying to fit back into the life you had with her.”

A life that included lineages. Babies. Roots and new branches on the family tree. Concepts so alien she barely knew how to label them.

He huffed out a breath. “I can’t. I know that. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve done the right thing. I ran Wheeler Family Partners, and I was good at selling real estate. Successful. Amber was a part of that. She had connections, came from a distinguished family. There were five hundred guests at our wedding. CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. A former U.S. president. The governor. We were happy being a power couple. People could depend on me. I want that back.”

Her stomach dropped. No wonder he hadn’t cared about her celebrity status or her money. He had his own social clout, in a world far removed from hers.

A cleft, one she hadn’t realized was there, widened.

He hadn’t embraced the wanderlust—he’d been desperate to find the magic formula for curing his grief so he could pick up the broken pieces of a life he’d abandoned, but yearned to return to.

Unlike her, he could go back. And would. Not only did neither of them have a whole heart to give to anyone else, they came from different places and were going different places.

She kissed his cheek. “I depend on you. Right now, you’re my entire world.”

How pathetic did that sound? He had a career waiting for him. A family. Both would welcome him back with open arms, she had no doubt. No mother who took the time to teach her son to cook would turn her back on him.

“Right now, I’m pretty happy being your entire world.”

Shock flashed behind her rib cage. “Really? I thought you were heading toward the big breakup.”

He should be heading toward the breakup. She should, too.

“What, you mean of us?” He laughed and shifted suddenly, rolling her against him, tight. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Why would I give that up?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been talking about? You want to go home.” Home to a place she couldn’t follow. Her gypsy soul would wither and die in the suburbs. “This is...our Venice bubble. It’s not going to last.”

Quiet settled over them, and she waited for him to agree.

But he said, “I don’t know if I can go home. My family—the obligations. It feels so oppressive. Like it’s too much for me to handle. I want to be me again, but at the same time I want to keep hiding.” He chuckled darkly. “God Almighty, I sound like the biggest pansy.”

No, he sounded like a man in incredible turmoil. For once, she’d stayed. She’d done it as an attempt to block out the future, but instead, quite by accident, she’d discovered this sensitive, wonderful person. What a juxtaposition. She ached to salve his wounds, knowing the moment she did, he’d leave her.

Rock. Hard place.

“I want to sing. I can’t. We’re both stuck in a rut we can’t get out of.”

* * *

Matthew listened to the sound of Evangeline’s heart against his and threaded fingers through her hair.

“Rut. Valley. Same difference.”

There was nothing quantifiable about the grieving process. It had stages, or so he’d read. But they weren’t easily identifiable so he had no idea if he’d gone through them all, remained immobilized in one, or had stumbled his way back to the beginning to run through them a second time.

He’d been stuck in the valley for far too long. And he was sick of it.

Her lips grazed his throat and stayed there. They’d both lost so much. Did she find it as comforting as he did to be in the arms of someone who understood? She not only understood, she’d given him permission to be mad.

That was powerful.

Because he was mad. And felt guilty about being mad. Evangeline somehow made it okay to let all that out, let it flow, and the anger cleansed as it burned through his blood.

“I was part of something,” he said. “In Dallas. Some sons rebel against the family business, but I couldn’t wait to be on the team. My parents were proud of me, and I thrived on that. Thrived on being married and looked forward to starting a family. Then it was gone and I couldn’t function. I don’t know how to get that back.”