“Yes,” Thea said, and it was a scary thing to admit. “But I’m not ready yet.”
Expression gentle and steely at the same time, Lily shook her head. “When you suffer such a big hurt, the longer you permit it to live in you, the bigger it grows, until it seeks to devour your soul.”
Thea felt tears roll down her cheeks, plop wetly onto the edge of the laptop lid. “Mama,” she whispered, painfully aware Lily was speaking from personal experience.
Her mother had been a naïve girl of nineteen who barely spoke English when she’d gone to New Zealand on a work visa. Hired as a maid by Patrick and Karen Buchanan, she’d been proud and happy to be in a position to send money back to her parents and siblings in Indonesia. Except two weeks later, Patrick fired her for stealing when Lily hadn’t so much as taken a sliver of soap.
Seven days after that, the charming, intelligent, and good-looking Patrick Buchanan had tracked Lily down. He’d spun a story about how Karen had forced him to fire Lily out of jealousy. He’d fought for her, he’d said, but his wife was a difficult woman and their marriage on the verge of divorce. That had been the first visit of many. He’d preyed on Lily’s loneliness, isolation, and innocence to seduce her, make her fall in love with him while convincing her his status as a politician meant they couldn’t be seen in public together—not until the divorce was final.
Only the cheating bastard had never had any intention of leaving his wife; he’d arranged to have Lily deported when he was tired of her. She’d been four months pregnant with Thea at the time, and the only reason Thea knew the entire story was because she’d badgered it out of her mother at eighteen.
Now Lily squeezed her hand, smiled. “Ah, baby, I got over my hurt a long time ago. Your papa had a great deal to do with it.” A storm of love in her eyes, of joy. “He taught me that there are good men in the world, loyal, loving men who understand the meaning of honor. I hope you remember that and not just what that one did.”
Thea knew her mother was right, but she couldn’t get the image of Eric with his head buried between the bimbo’s thighs out of her head. “I trusted him, Mama.” Her voice broke. “I thought he liked me the way I am.”
The hurtful words Eric had flung at her continued to cut like razors. You’re a ball-busting bitch who should’ve been born with a penis! I needed a real woman to fuck—at least she isn’t hell-bent on emasculating me!
Rising when Thea started to sob in earnest, the first time she’d truly cried since it all happened, Lily came around the table to hug her against her body. Thea turned, wrapped her arms around her mother’s petite form. Unlike Thea, Lily was barely over five feet tall. As a teenager, Thea had hated her height and features because they made it obvious she wasn’t her papa’s biological daughter.
Soon as he’d realized the reason for her morose mood, her father, Wayan, had sat her down and told her that nothing could ever change the fact she was his eldest daughter, his small shadow who loved to go fishing with him and who’d made his heart burst when she called him Papa for the first time as a two-and-a-half-year-old.
Thea had never again questioned his love and their relationship was one of the most powerful bonds of her life. Her relationship with her younger sisters was as strong. The two were only teenagers, Lily and Wayan having waited to extend their family. Thea adored the giggling flirts and was so happy that they, as well as her parents, got along with Molly and vice versa; Molly hadn’t been to Bali yet, but the six of them had all chatted over video calls.
Lily pressed a kiss to the top of Thea’s head when she finally drew back after crying out all the tears she’d been holding inside for months and months. It felt as if a great big obstruction was gone from inside her chest, the air cleaner, sweeter, the world brighter.
“Write to your man,” Lily said after using the bottom of her T-shirt to wipe away the remnants of Thea’s tears, much as she’d done when Thea was a child. “I’ll bring you ginger tea to ease your throat and cake to ease your heart.”
Thea drank the tea, ate the lusciously rich vanilla cake that sandwiched an equally decadent chocolate layer, then read her memo over again and hit Send.
David was sitting on the beach, trying to work on a difficult combination of guitar chords in an effort to keep his mind off the fact that Thea hadn’t replied to his memo, when his phone buzzed. The stubborn hope in his heart gave a nervous jump. Telling himself it was probably just one of the guys, he took it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen.