Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(18)

Sage shook her head. “Boarding-school buddy.”

“Which school?”

“Wordsloe Academy.”

His gaze snapped to her profile. She didn’t give off the vibe of someone who’d had an expensive education, but he didn’t doubt it. What he didn’t yet understand was how she’d gotten to a place where she was struggling to pay her rent. “Impressive.”

“To my parents, perhaps. I can’t complain. It provided me with a solid foundation in my chosen path of study.” She smiled. “And I met Bella.”

“Are your parents in the London area?”

“Not often.” There was a sad wistfulness in her tone.

“Are you close with them?”

She stopped walking and turned to Eric. “Do you want the truth or the public version?”

He ran his hand lightly down her arm in a move that initially had been meant to reassure her but that felt instantly intimate. “Whichever you’re comfortable sharing with me.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before saying softly, “I play six instruments. I speak four languages fluently and can understand at least nine others. Yet for as long as I can remember, I have been an utter disappointment and embarrassment to my parents. I’m their only child. You’d think that would make me special, but it doesn’t. They don’t come see me because they don’t want to. Their lives are easier when I’m not part of them. That’s the real relationship I have with my parents.”

“Come here.” He pulled her to his chest for a hug. He could have said he understood, but this wasn’t about him. Someone else might have told her to ignore her parents’ opinions, claiming it didn’t matter. Eric knew it did. He’d never known how to connect with either of his own parents. His mother hadn’t known how to fit him in with the new family unit she’d created for herself after leaving his father. His father had remained aloof yet judgmental. Yes, he knew exactly how much family could cut one to the core. So despite the people passing them on either side, he simply held her.

She stood awkwardly in his embrace at first, then laid her forehead on his chest and seemed to give herself over to the moment. It wasn’t a dramatic, tear-filled scene—but it was packed with more emotion than Eric had allowed himself to feel in a very long time.

Eventually she raised her face. “Sorry. I don’t usually vomit my private life on people like that.”

He traced her chin with his thumb. “You can vomit on me anytime—” He stopped and shared a smile with her. “Figuratively, I mean.”

“Thanks.” She stepped out of his embrace, looking bemused. “I appreciate both your offer and your clarification.”

To lessen the tension, and because he wanted to maintain their connection, he offered her his elbow. “Shall we continue on?”

“We shall.” She placed her hand on the crook of his arm and fell into step beside him.

They came across a small, tree-shaded park. It reminded him of another day and place. “I almost had a daughter once. At least, that’s what Jasmine said. She would have been the age of the girl at the fountain.”

“Almost?” Sage’s hand tightened on his arm, but she didn’t break pace.

“I was engaged to a woman who didn’t love me. She aborted the child when she discovered it.”

Sage gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged, downplaying how he felt out of habit. “It was probably for the best.”

She stopped then and looked up at him. “You don’t believe that.”

She saw past his act, and it knocked him off-balance. “No, I don’t,” he said tightly as his throat closed with emotion.

“Did you love the mother?”

“I thought I did,” Eric said, and realized the memory of Jasmine no longer had the power to sadden him. “She didn’t want me, though, only what I could do for her.”

He waited for her to say something trite or inspirational, but she didn’t. Instead, she nodded and urged him to walk with her again. He knew in that moment that she understood him in a rare way. He didn’t require reassurances. He would have rejected any declaration that he would one day have that daughter—as if children were interchangeable. Even if he and some future woman bore a dozen children, a corner of his heart would always belong to the daughter he’d never met.

Once inside the small park, Sage released his arm and sat on a bench. Eric joined her, close enough that they were almost touching. They sat for a while before either spoke again. Oddly, the quiet was comforting.

Sage finally asked, “Do you remember the person I told you I regretted telling off?”

Eric turned to face Sage more. “Yes.”

“She didn’t seem like a very nice woman.”

“So maybe she did deserve what you said.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change how I feel. I want to apologize to her. I just can’t decide if that will make things better or worse.” Her small shoulders rose and fell. “Bella says sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone. What do you think?”

Eric grimaced. “I’m no expert. I’ve never been accused of being a good person.”

She scanned his face before saying, “I didn’t ask you what you’ve been accused of—I asked you what you thought.”