The Secret Baby Scandal(27)
“Why?” he demanded.
She looked up at him miserably. “If we ever really needed you…if we ever really—” she took a deep dragging breath “—loved you, you would leave us.”
His eyes darkened in a scowl. “I am getting a little tired of you always accusing me of this.”
“Am I wrong?”
“The love between parent and child is sacred. It lasts. It’s different from the romantic foolishness you dream about.”
She set her jaw. “How long would Henry and I stay with you in the castle before you grew weary of our devotion and left us?”
“This isn’t about Henry. You know I would never leave him now. This is about you,” he said harshly. “And how you’re selfishly putting your own romantic dreams ahead of what’s best for our child.”
“I’m not!” she cried. “Us getting married would be a disaster for everyone—especially him!”
“How can you say that?”
“Don’t you see?” She took another deep breath. He saw her fingers gripping the edge of the table as if she were clinging on for dear life. “Living apart, sharing custody of our son while we live on opposite sides of the world, is his only hope for a happy life.”
He stared at her. “You’re making no sense!”
She pressed her lips together, her face pale. “Once we were married you’d treat me badly. Our home would become a misery.”
“How can you say that?” he ground out. “I will never treat you badly! I respect you—care for you! Don’t you know that by now?”
She started to say something, then choked herself off, midbreath. She looked away, looking across the shadows of the medieval setting. “I could say something that would make you go away.”
“No.” He grabbed her hand across the table. Her fingers were shaking and cold to the touch. He pressed her hand against the warmth of his cheek. Turning her hand over, he kissed her naked palm. “We’d be equal partners. Friends. Parents. There’s nothing you could say to drive me away.”
Licking her heart-shaped lips, she took a deep breath. Then she looked at him with eyes full of pain.
“I’m in love with you,” she whispered.
For a second Théo thought he hadn’t heard her right. He must have misunderstood. She couldn’t be in love with him. He held his breath, searching her eyes. She looked pale, like she might faint.
“You—love me?” he said finally.
Miserably, she nodded. “I can’t resist you. Not anymore,” she said in a low voice. “And this is the only way to make you understand. You would despise me. And I would feel…like my heart was ripped out.” She gave a tearful laugh. “Better this ends now. We’ll separate and share custody. Henry will always feel loved by both of us. You will be free. And I…”
“And you what?” he said sharply.
Blinking back tears, she tried to smile as she looked at him. “I can at least live in hope.”
“For another man to love you?”
Her voice was almost too quiet for him to hear. “Yes.”
Théo looked away. He thought of his son being shuttled back and forth between America and France, as he had been. He thought of his son being raised with stepparents and half-siblings, never quite feeling like he fully belonged anywhere. Some other man would raise his son at least half the year.#p#分页标题#e#
And every night that same man would have Carrie in his bed.
Rage ripped through him. He would die before he’d allow Carrie to be loved by another.
“I tried to hate you,” she whispered, leaning her head on her hand. “I tried so hard. But I can’t stop myself from loving you.” She looked up suddenly. “Don’t punish Henry for my weakness,” she pleaded. “We’ll find a way for you to spend time with him, but never have to see me again—”
“No,” he bit out, gripping his hands into fists.
Tears spilled unheeded down her cheeks. “Don’t do this, Théo. I know you must despise me, but Henry is an innocent child—”
“I’m not going to let you go.” Reaching across the table, he cupped her face and looked down into her eyes fiercely. “You will be my wife.”
“But, Théo,” she choked out, shaking her head, “it’s impossible. I can’t love you desperately while you feel nothing—”
“You’re wrong,” he bit out, and then, with a deep breath, he forced out the lie he had no choice but to tell. “I love you, too.”
Incredulous, slow-rising joy lit up her beautiful face, like golden dawn across fields of red poppies. “You—love me?”