Living in Secret: Living In..., Book 3 (18 page)

There was pain in her face, despite her shuttered look. And he understood, finally, that her scars ran just as deep as his. “I would,” he said, quiet and sure.

Her throat moved, the pain in her eyes spreading outwards. “Why? What the hell do you see in her?”

“Because she’s in pain. Because she wants forgiveness. Because she cares. Just the same as I do.”

“She doesn’t want any of those things.”

“I think she wants love.”

She went even paler, turning away from him. “No. You’re wrong. She wants love the least of all.”

“Victoria—”

“Goodbye, Connor,” she said, turning her back on him. “Thanks for everything.”

Then she began to walk away.

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” he said, not raising his voice, making it a challenge. “You run away when it gets difficult. When it gets painful. When you’re scared. That’s what you’ve done for the past five years and you’re still doing it now.”

She paused, but didn’t turn. “I have to protect myself somehow.”

“From what? From me?”

She only shook her head, not answering him, beginning to walk again.

“I’m not running, Victoria.” He said it quietly but loud enough she heard, he knew she did. “I’m going to fight for this. I’m going to fight for you.”

She reached the front door and pulled it open.

“You’ll never get your divorce,” Connor said. “I’m never going to let you go.”

And she shut it behind her.

That was fine. She could run away again, but it would be for the last time. Because he was done with letting her walk away from him.

Last night she’d showed him the strength of her conviction. It was time she learned about his.

“What’s up?”

Victoria pushed the remains of her chicken salad around on her plate. Not that it could rightly be called remains when she hadn’t eaten any of it. “Nothing,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. “I’m fine.”

Across the table from her, Eleanor gave a disbelieving snort. “Bullshit, Vic. What’s going on?”

They were having lunch at the Auckland Club and it had not escaped Victoria’s notice that Raphael was behind the bar. She’d flushed as they’d entered and she’d spotted him, but he only nodded his head at her, his smile holding nothing but friendliness. That had eased the tension, but the sight of him also reminded her of what had happened only last week.

It reminded her of Connor.

Let’s try again. Please.

“Vic. Come on.”

She dropped her fork, her chest feeling empty and hollow. She didn’t want to talk about it.

You run away when it gets difficult…

There was worry in Eleanor’s gray eyes, a crease between her fair brows. There was no point in telling her friend about Connor. She would be leaving in a couple of weeks anyway and then it would be a moot point.

But the hollow feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t get the image of Connor standing in the kitchen out of her head. Of the look in his eyes. No anger, only a tenderness that made her feel like she was suffocating. An expression that wasn’t for her and that she didn’t deserve anyway.

He didn’t understand. She’d made the decision to give Jessica up. She hadn’t fought. She’d done what she was told. She’d obeyed her parents to make them happy. Because that’s what she always did, struggling to live up to their vaunted ideas about what they wanted for her. Because she loved them.

Jesus, it all came back to that, didn’t it? Love. That demanded too many sacrifices. Too many parts of your soul. A soul already broken into pieces the day she’d handed over her daughter to the nurse in the hospital.

She didn’t have much of her soul left. She couldn’t hand the rest over to Connor just like that.

He’d accused her of walking away, of not fighting, and he was right. She didn’t want to fight. It was easier and less painful to protect yourself, and it was much safer in the long run. She’d been doing that for too many years to stop suddenly now.

“Vic,” Eleanor said again. “You look miserable. And I’m worried about you.”

Victoria looked at her salad, her appetite completely gone. “I’ve been seeing Connor,” she heard herself say, the words abrupt and flat. “We’ve been… Well, anyway. It’s over now.”

There was a shocked silence.

“You kept that quiet,” Eleanor murmured.

She looked up, met her friend’s steady gaze. “It was a goodbye fling type of arrangement.”

“So why are you unhappy?”

“I’m not—” She stopped abruptly as Eleanor raised a skeptical brow. “All right, so I’m…sad. But it’s over and done with now, like I said. And I’m leaving for London soon.”

“Uh huh.” Eleanor sat back in her chair, nursing a glass of rosé. There was a searching expression on her face that made Victoria uncomfortable. “So you’re sad. Why?”

She forced herself to laugh, a brittle sound. “Because the sex was good.”

“You can have good sex with someone else, Vic. That’s usually not a reason to be sad.”

“I don’t want sex with someone else,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Ah. Well, that’s different then.”

Victoria pushed her salad plate away with a sharp movement, angry with herself and with the horrible feeling in her chest that wouldn’t go away.

You’re afraid.

Yes, she
was
afraid. She’d made a great many sacrifices in her life and she didn’t want to have to make any more. And there would be sacrifices if she wanted to be with Connor because there always were.

Such as? Giving up a passionless, loveless life?

“It’s not different,” she said forcefully. “I can be celibate.” After all, she’d been celibate for at least two years before she and Connor had gotten it on. She could do it again. “Anyway, it’s not about the sex.”

“Then what is it about? You want more and he doesn’t?”

“No. I’m the one who doesn’t want more.”

Eleanor gave her a narrow look. “Oh, so he does?”

“Yes. He wants to…try again.”

“But you don’t.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

A simple question with a not so simple answer. “It’s complicated.”

Eleanor gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, it always is. Apparently. But sometimes, it’s actually quite simple. You either love him and want to try and make it work. Or you don’t.”

No, it wasn’t that simple. Eleanor didn’t know about Jessica or Connor’s father. Didn’t know about the passionless marriage she and Connor had had before. Didn’t know about the passion they’d discovered between them. There was too much that was complicated. Too much that was painful.

Bullshit. She’s right and you know it. You either love him and he’s worth trying for. Or you don’t and he’s not.

Victoria’s throat closed, the hollow feeling deepening into an ache. That knowledge of what she felt for him sitting in the back of her mind. A pull she couldn’t deny. The same kind of pull that dragged at her whenever she thought about her daughter. Longing. Yearning for something she couldn’t have. Something she didn’t deserve.

His strength. His sense of fairness, of justice. His passion.

“I will fight for you…”

No one had ever fought for her. No one had ever believed in her.

Because you’ve never been good enough.

She stood all of a sudden, her chair scraping back loudly on the wooden floor. She had to get out, get away. Somewhere away from the thoughts going ’round and ’round in her head. From the feelings inside her stinging like salt in an open wound.

“Sorry, Ell,” she said, her voice sounding strange. “I have to get back to work. I’ll call you.”

As she stalked out of the club, she tried to ignore the look of disappointment on Eleanor’s face. And the sound of Connor’s voice resounding in her head. The one that kept whispering she was running away. Easy for him to say when it was painfully obvious he’d never had a choice about the demons in his past. He’d had to fight, for his mother’s life and for his own. Survival at its purest level.

But she’d had a choice. And she’d always known, deep in her heart, her choice had been a selfish one. Telling herself adoption was the right thing to do for her daughter, that it was best for Jessica. When ultimately, all it had been about what was best for
her.

She could have fought for her baby. She could have stood up to her parents and refused to give her up. She could have carved a life out for herself and her child.

And she hadn’t. She caved. Because she wanted their approval, their love, more than she’d wanted her daughter.

It was a decision she’d hate herself for making forever.

Her PA gave her a meaningful look as she came into the office. “You’ve got someone to see you.”

Victoria didn’t pause. She didn’t have an appointment booked, but whoever it was would get short shrift. She wasn’t in any mood to make nice. “Thanks, Estelle,” she said as she passed the desk. “I’ll deal with it.”

But as she pushed open the door to her office, her heart just about stopped in her chest.

Connor was leaning back against her desk, his hands braced on either side of him, fingers gripping the edge.

It had only been two days since she’d walked out of his kitchen, trying to tell herself it was for the best. Only two short days. Yet as soon as his intense gaze met hers, she felt the weight of all those hours and minutes and seconds without him pile on top of her, heavy as eternity.

An absurd impulse gripped her. To fling aside her briefcase and launch herself at him. But of course she wasn’t going to. Any physical contact they’d had was over and done with now. No point in going back.

“What are you doing here?” She kept her tone cool as she calmly closed the door behind her. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You should have.” His sharp, perceptive gaze didn’t waver. “I told you I wasn’t going to let you go.”

She took a slow, silent breath, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart. “I don’t want you to fight for me. I didn’t ask you to fight for me.”

“I know you didn’t. But I’m going to all the same. In fact, you would have seen me again the day you walked out, but I had a few things to do.”

Carefully she placed her briefcase down on the meeting table near her desk. She wanted to keep hold of it to maintain some kind of barrier between them, but again, that would reveal too much. And she didn’t want to give him any more in the way of ammunition.

“What things?”

“I had to tie up the loose ends of the case I’m dealing with now.” He shifted against the desk and she tried not to notice the way the wool of his suit trousers pulled tight around his powerful thighs, or how the black belt he wore emphasized his lean hips.

Hunger turned over inside her, just as powerful, just as insistent as it had been before. As if the past few days hadn’t done a thing.

You’ll never stop wanting him.

“What case?” she asked, trying to drown out the voice in her head.

“A young guy who shot his father. The police are trying to bring a murder charge but we’ve had some evidence turn up that’s going to make that impossible.” He paused, staring at her. “I’ve passed the case on to someone else. In fact, I should never have taken it on in the first place considering the conflict of interest. But I did because you were right, it was part of my crusade.” His gaze was very direct. “I’ve been trying to atone. And I thought I could achieve that by punishing people for their crimes. That’s been the focus of my life ever since I got into law school. That’s been the way I dealt with what happened to Dad.” He hesitated. “But then you told me something different. You told me I was only defending myself, protecting my mother. That it was survival. And you were… Christ, Victoria, you were so damn sure. So damn certain. And I was afraid to believe you. Because what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong,” she said in a thick voice. She couldn’t look away from him. There was something in his face that was different. An intensity that didn’t come from anger this time, but from certainty. Surety.

“I know you’re not. That’s why I’ve decided I want to take that chance.” He was quiet but no less certain. “I’ve decided to believe you. I’m not like my father and I don’t have to hide or keep myself locked down.” Another pause. “Because you weren’t afraid of me. And if you weren’t afraid, then there’s no reason on earth for me to be.”

Such measured, logical words. Making so much sense. And yet they cut her to shreds because there was a trust implicit in them she was sure she hadn’t earned.

She glanced away, blinking away the prick of something that felt suspiciously like tears behind her eyes. “So what does that mean?”

“I can’t change the past. I can’t take back what I did. But I’m going to stop taking these prosecution cases and look into doing some pro-bono work for people in need instead. Do more family law stuff, I think. Domestic violence. Custody issues. I want to help people trapped in the same kind of situation I was in.” His mouth turned up in a faint, self-deprecating smile. “You need passion for those kinds of cases. You need belief. And you need anger. Especially if you want to make a positive difference to their lives.”

A bright spark had lit in his eyes, the one she’d seen only in the courtroom. And the hunger sank its claws deeper inside her.

“That’s great,” she said, toneless and brittle. “I think you’ll be fantastic at it.”

He didn’t move, nor did he look away. “It’s because of you, Victoria. You understand that, don’t you? If you hadn’t confronted me that night, I doubt I’d ever have taken this step.”

“I only made you see what was already there.” She glanced down at her watch to check the time, needing the excuse to look away from him. “Now, have you got anything else to say? I have another meeting in about ten minutes.” A total lie. But she wanted him out of here.

“I also brought you something.”

She looked up. “What?”

He shifted again and picked up a white envelope lying on top of her desk. “This.” And handed it to her.

Victoria took it and lifted the envelope tab, sliding out the papers inside.

The divorce papers. Signed.

Her stomach lurched, an unexpected and bitter disappointment she told herself she didn’t feel. “But you said you would never—”