Preston's Honor(46)

I guessed I could use the remainder of the day to begin job hunting. My first stop would be IHOP. They were always short of waitresses. Hopefully they needed one now and would give me my old job back.

“I’ll be in touch. We can set up a time then to figure out . . . what’s best for Hudson.”

What’s best for Hudson. I wasn’t sure what that meant to Preston, but I knew we needed to talk. I wanted to figure it out as much as he did. I needed to be near my son again. “Yes. Please.” I glanced at Hudson. “Please call me soon.” I sounded like I was begging and it made me feel ashamed, so I cleared my throat and took Hudson’s small hand in mine. “Bye, baby boy. I’ll see you soon okay? Ma—”

“Bye, Lia,” Preston cut in.

My eyes shot to his and he was looking at me warily. He’d cut me off before I could refer to myself as “mama.” My heart squeezed painfully but I managed a tremulous smile. “Bye.”

I turned and pulled the front door open, letting myself out. I heard the door close behind me and then walked as quickly as possible to my car, pulling away, and getting halfway down the road before I allowed the tears to fall.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


Preston



Hudson picked up a piece of ravioli and stuck it in his mouth, gumming it happily. He caught my eye and grinned and I smiled back, but inside, my heart was still beating too fast, and I felt like I hadn’t quite caught my breath since Lia had walked in the door.

I hadn’t been prepared for what was so glaringly obvious on her face as she gazed at our son: raw love. Her blatant, helpless pain knotted my insides. The way she’d stared so longingly at Hudson had gutted and confused me. It made one thing very clear—she hadn’t left because she didn’t love Hudson. She’d left because she hadn’t loved me.

I let out a shuddery breath, running my hand through my hair. Christ. I knew I hadn’t made it easy for her, but to leave that way with no note, not a word, nothing. Hadn’t she realized what it would do after I’d just lost my father and my brother and was barely hanging on? Why hadn’t she known that losing her would tear the last piece of my heart to shreds?

She’d wanted to hold Hudson. Her hands had fluttered toward him, but she’d forcefully pressed them against her hips as if she needed to ground them somewhere to keep from reaching for him. I hadn’t made it any easier on her by offering and she obviously hadn’t felt secure enough to ask to hold her own baby. Whom she’d left. And so we’d stood awkwardly watching the baby I’d put inside her in a moment of lust and love and lost control on the kitchen table across the foyer.

My body still tightened with need when I thought of that night. My heart still broke for the tragedy, the grief, the tears, and the silence that followed. And yet, despite the unceasing misery, there had been that one joy-filled moment when the sweet, high wail of my newborn son had broken through the despair, even if only for a moment.

I glanced at Hudson who was happily making a mess of the food on his tray and smiled softly. He was done and I should take him out of the chair and wash him up, but he was content to play with his food, and I needed the time to collect myself.

I looked away, gazing out of the window. The funny thing was—not that there was anything remotely funny about it—Lia leaving had actually been the catalyst that brought me back from the emotional brink I’d been teetering on.

. . . that night the rain had finally come . . . the way Lia had grasped at me . . . her sweet moans.

I let out a harsh breath, the memory buzzing through me like a sweet pulse of electricity, bringing with it the sharp pang of yearning that I’d tried so hard to deny. God, it still made me ache. Not just my body, but the sacred places in my heart that had always been reserved for her—no one else. Never anyone else.

I swore softly and Hudson paused momentarily in his high chair art, smiling at me, and repeating proudly, “Fuw!” before going back to smearing with relish. I would have laughed and internally scolded myself for swearing in front of the baby if I wasn’t so torn up inside from Lia’s visit.

Fuw was right.

My mind returned immediately to Lia, and that rainy, passion-filled night, and then forward to when I’d woken in the morning and she was nowhere to be found. And for the first time in just over a year, I had felt a fire light within me and gain strength, knew the sudden wild need to fight to get my life back. To fight to begin a life with Lia, because circumstances had prevented any true beginning. I wanted to marry her if she’d have me, to bind us together as a family now that I had finally gathered a full breath. Even one.

And so I’d looked for her relentlessly, even hired a private detective. But as the months went on and on, my bitterness escalated, and my hurt returned.

I thought back to her words from so long ago. Had she loved me then? “Someday I’m going to leave here, but a part of my heart is going to remain. With you.” I had touched the sea-glass shape she’d given me so many times, wondering if that was what she’d meant. That she would just up and leave without a way to contact her? But, she’d left more than a part of her heart. And it had devastated me. I’d just hurt. Ached. That’s the state she’d found me in, sitting in the diner, eating dinner alone.

No wonder there’d been no trace of her. She’d gone all the way to Texas. Goddamn her! Didn’t she realize that any number of horrors could have befallen her if she’d broken down on the side of some dark road without a cell phone? I was surprised that beat-up car she drove had made it across the California state line, much less almost halfway across the country and back. Not to mention I had no idea what type of situation she’d been in once she’d arrived at her aunt’s house. An aunt I’d never heard of. But that wasn’t surprising, was it? Lia had always been so damn closed-lipped about herself.