The Doctor's Secret Bride(102)

She hugged her stomach and rubbed her hands slowly up and down her arms. “You know what my father did to me and Robert as kids, Erik. You know he stole my money and wrecked my life. But what he did to your family trumps it all. He robbed Precious of her mother, and you of the woman you loved. For that I hate him even more, and I’m sorry for not being totally honest with you.”

Michelle gazed up at him. His lips were drawn into a thin line and his jaws were tight and hard. She wished he would say something. Anything. She swallowed. “I love you, Erik. I didn’t lie about that. You have to believe me.” She touched his arm. “How are we going to deal with this mess? How can we fix it?”

Her voice was a distant murmur. His misery a steel weight around his neck, hauling him into a sea of sheer despair. That bastard had hurt her, too. He so longed to make up for all the pain in her life, erase all her bad memories and give her the world. But the facts remained—her father killed Cassie, and Michelle had lied to him.

Erik pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. His fingers slid across the surface of the blue-velvet box containing the ring he was going to give her tonight. Panic tugged at his heart, and anguish spread through his stomach as he gazed at her. She was an angel. His angel.

He remembered the day she stormed into his house, into his study, into his life, and into his heart. Instinct had warned him to send her marching back down his driveway. He had known she would change his life forever, but he never expected it would be like this. He hadn’t wanted to be hurt again, to love again. But he did love. And he did get hurt.

And this was worse. This was so much worse than when he had stood in the cemetery, twenty-six months ago, and watched them lay Cassie’s body into the ground. This was worse than watching his little daughter weep for the mother she could never have again.#p#分页标题#e#

He remembered Precious’ tearful words as they left the cemetery to go back to their perfect house, on the perfect street, in the perfect neighborhood that wasn’t so perfect anymore, because Cassie Rebecca LaCrosse wasn’t there.

“Daddy,” Precious had cried as he wrapped her in his arms. “I miss Mommy so much. Why couldn’t you make her better, Daddy? You always make people better when they’re sick. I want my mommy, Daddy. I want her back.”

Erik remembered the pain in her wide brown eyes. He remembered the torture in her voice, and how she tried to be so brave throughout the memorial service because she knew her mother hated tears.

He remembered a whole lot of things, and he squeezed his eyes shut as tears of bitter regret seeped through his lids. This was the worst, because the woman he loved now had betrayed him. And by loving her, he had betrayed the memory of the woman he used to love. He was trapped in a cocoon of defeat with no way out.

There was no dealing with it. There was no fixing it. He could not build a life with Michelle knowing her father had killed Cassie.

“We can’t fix this, Michelle,” he said in a hollow voice. “It’s too big. We can’t go back, and we can’t go forward. You deceived me. I can’t ever trust you again. I can’t be around you.”

“Erik, we’re husband and wife. We took vows for better and for worse. We love each other. You can’t just toss us aside as if we never happened.”

He turned and gazed down at her, the hurt in his eyes tearing at her heart. “I don’t know who I married, Michelle, or with whom I fell in love. All I know is that you’re not the woman I thought you were. It’s a good thing no one else knows we’re married, especially Precious. At least she’ll be spared the pain of losing another mother.” With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

The finality in his words was so debilitating that all Michelle could do was waddle back to the bed and lie down on it. She curled up into the fetal position as deep moans came from the darkest, deepest parts of her soul.

Dwight Carter had completely destroyed her life this time. There was no climbing out of this pit. There was no escaping the anguish that would plague her for the rest of her life. Her father had finally killed her last glimmer of hope.

She dragged her body off the bed, across the floor, and into the bathroom. Her heart was as heavy as lead as she stood under the shower sprays and somehow managed to wash Erik’s scent from her body.

It was almost dawn when she finally descended the stairs and roused a disgruntled Yasmine from sleep. Her dear friend asked no questions. She just held her while she cried, then helped her into the car. Michelle sat silently on the ride to Manchester, huddled against the door, feeling cold, shaken, and so alone.