Wanting What She Can't Have(28)

"Finn, ask yourself this, how would you feel if it was you and Tamsyn,  if she'd kept something from you that meant the difference between  living the rest of your lives together or losing her forever? And then  the next person you trusted also kept something from you?"

Tamsyn rose from where she'd been sitting and curved an arm around her  husband's waist. "This isn't helping, Finn. Alexis needs our support,  not your censure."

"I'm not angry at her," he protested, but his wife's touch seemed to  have a soothing effect on his temper. "I just can't stand to see Alexis  hurt like this."

"I know," Tamsyn said gently. "Neither of us can. Our job is to be  there for her as and when she needs us. She's a big girl and she's made  her own choices."

"Yes, I have, and I'm strong enough to stand on my own two feet. Well,  once I've got myself back together again, anyway," Alexis said ruefully,  remembering only too well the wreck she'd been when Tamsyn and Finn had  met her here in the hotel. "I'm so glad you came, thank you so much."

Her voice wobbled and her eyes filled with tears yet again. Instantly  she felt the warmth of Tamsyn's arms close around her in a comforting  hug.

"I'm s-sorry, I just can't seem to stop."

"Should we even travel tonight?" Finn asked. "Maybe it'd be better if we stayed the night and left in the morning."

"No, I want to go home. I need to."

"Sure you do," Tamsyn said, smoothing Alexis's hair from her face with a gentle hand. "And that's exactly what we'll do."

It was early evening when they finally got in Alexis's car to drive  north. Exhausted, she lay down in the back and was soon asleep. By the  time they arrived at her father's cottage it had been dark for hours.  All the lights inside the cottage were blazing, their golden glow a  flame of welcome. She sat up, rubbing at her bleary eyes, and was hit  with a huge sense of relief when she saw her father's silhouette backlit  by the veranda lights. Then, he was at her door and within seconds she  was in his arms, listening to his voice murmuring endearments in his  native Italian tongue.

Finally she was home, safe in her father's arms. As he led her into the  house and to her bedroom, Tamsyn and Finn following with her suitcase,  she wondered if Ruby would ever have the chance to feel that deep sense  of security with Raoul.

* * *

Raoul flicked the collar of his jacket up and pulled his beanie down  lower on his head. The weather had turned bitter cold. Or maybe it just  seemed that way since Alexis had left four weeks, three days and two  hours ago. He could count the minutes, too, but that had proven to be a  fast track to Crazyville.                       
       
           



       

God, he missed her. It went beyond the physical. As much as he'd tried  to ignore it and push her away, he missed what she'd come to mean to  him. It had been difficult from the first to adjust to no longer sharing  her bed after he found out about the pregnancy. He'd assumed that her  permanent absence would make things more comfortable for him, ease the  longing he felt for her touch. But the longing had become much worse,  instead-now there was so much more of her to miss. Not just her body but  her laugh, the sound of her voice. The warmth she brought to his life.

The house just didn't feel the same, didn't feel like a home. Ruby had  become more irritable than she'd been under Alexis's care and he found  himself watching over Jenny with the baby more and more often, hardly  wanting to trust her with the child.

As a result, Ruby had begun to turn to him when he was in the  house-complaining loudly if he didn't pay her the attention she  obviously felt she was due. He felt the bond between him and his  daughter growing stronger every day. And this time, he didn't try to  fight it.

Somehow the little tyke had wrapped him right around her little finger,  and now she had a hold on his heart that terrified him and thrilled him  in equal proportions. He found himself looking forward more and more to  spending time with her each day, and to reading her bedtime stories at  night-because one was never enough.

When she'd caught a cold from one of the other children at the play  center, he'd been the one who'd sat up with her in a steam-filled  bathroom at night as she'd coughed and spluttered herself back to sleep.  He'd been the one to take her to the doctor every day until the doctor  himself had told him-in the nicest way possible-that Ruby really, truly  was going to be okay and to stop wasting their time.

He began to have a new appreciation for what Alexis had done in caring  for her, and how she'd managed it all on her own. Realizing that had  highlighted his own inadequacies as a father, and as a man. How he'd  thought he could hide in his work and relegate his responsibilities to  others-that it was enough to simply provide, but not to participate. How  he'd made himself believe that if he stayed away, if he just threw  enough money at a problem, that it would miraculously go away.

He'd been such a fool.

And that's what had led him here today, to Bree's final resting place.  He laid the bunch of yellow roses, her favorite, at the base of her  headstone and knelt beside her grave. The ground felt cold, so cold-as  cold as his heart had been for far too long.

For quite a while he said nothing, remaining still, listening to the  birds in the trees around him. He'd avoided coming here since the day  they'd buried her. He'd told himself it didn't matter-that the Bree he'd  known and loved had gone, she wasn't here anymore. But when he'd known  he needed to talk to her, really talk, one last time, it had only been  natural to do it here.

A cool wind worked its way around him, sliding under his collar and  tickling around his ears. He shivered. He'd been compelled to come  here-as if he couldn't move forward again until he'd done this. He took a  deep breath and let it out slowly.

Any other time he'd have thought it verging on the ridiculous, needing  to talk out loud to a headstone, but today nothing else had ever felt so  right.

"Hi, Bree, it's me." He huffed a self-deprecatory laugh. As if it would  be anyone else. "I know I should have been here more often, and  probably brought Ruby, too, but I was so angry at you, Bree, so bloody  mad I couldn't even think straight anymore."

Exasperation, fury, helplessness-they all flooded through him all over  again. "What the hell were you thinking not telling me about the  aneurysm? How could you have kept that from me? I wanted a family, but I  wanted you more. Why couldn't you tell me about the risks?"

The cold air whipped around him more sharply and he pulled the collar  of his jacket closed around his throat. He stayed like that for a while,  not daring to speak for the emotion that built up inside him like a  volcano about to blow. He closed his eyes and when he opened his mouth  again, he talked instead about the first thing that came to mind. Ruby.  Bit by bit, he felt the roiling emotions inside him begin to subside.                       
       
           



       

"Our daughter's beautiful, Bree. You would love her. She's just like  you. From her hair to her eyes-all the way through to her ability to get  her own way."

He felt a reluctant smile pull at his lips and he opened his eyes again. "Especially the latter," he added.

"I've let you both down, though. I've been so wrapped in my own anger  at you, at the whole damn world, and in my fear of getting hurt again  that I failed Ruby as a father. But you should know that she's fine.  She's wonderful. Catherine's done a great job with her so far, and  Alexis. Certainly a far better job than me.

"I felt so bad when Alexis arrived. She awakened something in me that I  didn't want to feel again. That I'd promised myself I would never feel  again." His voice trailed off as a thought occurred to him. "But you  sent her to me, didn't you? And me, the fool that I am, I sent her away.

"She tried, Bree, she tried to break me out-to make me be myself again,  to live my life again, but the anger and the fear held me back."

He dragged in another breath and let it go, noticing as he did so that  his heart began to feel lighter. The darkness that had held him in its  grip for so long was receding and with it came acceptance for Bree's  decision. She'd been willing to risk everything for him and for the  dreams they'd woven together, come what may. He'd thought he'd known  love, understood it, but he'd known and understood nothing at all.  Somewhere, he had to find the courage Bree had had. The courage to risk  everything, to love absolutely, all over again.

"I'm sorry I never understood you well enough, Bree, and I'm sorry I've  been so stupidly angry with you for all this time-especially because I  let it rob so much of your love from me. Thank you for our daughter," he  said roughly, bowing his head and closing his eyes. "Thank you for the  all-too-few years you and I had together. I will always love you and you  will always have a special piece of my heart."