“The shelter.” She gazed at his nightstand, a ploy clearly enabling her to avoid his stare.
“I thought you were sticking around to take care of us.”
She looked from Alix, who chattered happily, back to Griff. “Both of you look much better. And clearly you have the energy to take care of her.”
“So you’re running away.”
“Leaving for a while.”
“You’ll be back?”
Her silence hit him like a slap in the face. “Don’t let us keep you, then.”
His icy tone must have melted some of her barriers. “Please don’t make this harder,” she pleaded.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t. We went into this like two adults. As I recall, I asked you to be sure. So what’s with the sudden withdrawal?”
Her frantic gaze again darted to Alix and back to him. “Just give me some space, okay? I’ll be back. I promise.”
“Okay.” What choice did he have? He’d never force a woman who didn’t want to stay and he’d never hold on to a woman in that much pain. Looking at Chelsie’s trembling body, he knew that she was.
His first instinct had been to cast her in the role of villain, as the woman who deserted him like his mother and ex-fiancée. He could no longer accept that explanation. He’d come to know Chelsie well in the last few weeks, even better in the last twenty-four hours. Her role in the custody hearing no longer tortured his thoughts. She’d made her own way without the help of her parents, chosen a career that benefited others and not herself.
He even understood her role in the custody hearing now, understood why and believed her regrets. Family was important to her. The caring woman he’d come to know wouldn’t turn down her parents’ request for help. The irony was she’d lost them anyway. In all the time they’d been together with Alix, she’d never once mentioned her family or their abrupt departure for Florida. According to Ryan, charity functions were rampant down there this time of year. Chelsie’s priorities he understood. Theirs he didn’t.
But there was more to Chelsie than her caring nature. Something haunted her, had kept her from her sister and niece before, and caused her to run now, which led him to the possibility she was running from herself and not from him.
The probability didn’t lessen the feelings of abandonment he’d hoped never to experience again, but the knowledge allowed him to let her go in peace. He, too, could use the time to sort out his jumbled emotions.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He shrugged, but said nothing. Ignoring her seemed the easiest means of blocking his pain. She reached down and retrieved her sneakers from the floor.
He leaned back against the pillows and shut his eyes, waiting until he heard the thud of the bedroom door before opening them again. The noise emphasized the point. He was alone.
EIGHT
Chelsie drove for hours, seeking solace that eluded her. She’d get lost, circle the same roads four or five times, find her way, and just keep going. She had nowhere else to turn.
Her work, always an escape, was now tied to Griff. Her office, her papers, her things all sat in boxes in the upstairs of his house. Though she could go back to the city, her tiny apartment held little appeal. She’d furnished her cold apartment as a reminder. The decor clearly stated this was no place for a child.
Until this morning, the reminder had worked. The sterile, glass environment she’d purposefully created was home to the woman she’d been before she had accepted Griffin Stuart’s offer. Before she’d been foolish enough to make love with him.
That woman had known she’d never have children, a family, a warm place to call home. She’d known better than to become a part of something she could never have. The minute Griff had brought the little girl into the bed, as if they were a family, her family, Chelsie’s orderly world had tipped precariously off balance. When he’d indicated his preference to have more children, her world disintegrated before her.
For the first time, she’d dared to want something she could never have. She should have known better. She made a U-turn and headed towards Boston. Maybe time alone in her apartment was exactly what she needed to set things right.
But when she walked into the stark, crystal-filled living room, she didn’t find the sense of peace she sought. She found the truth. The place she called home wasn’t. Chelsie was alone.
* * *
“I take it this is your version of ‘coming back’?” Griff asked on Monday morning. The rest of the weekend had passed without a word or a phone call, as if the night they’d spent together had never happened.