Wherever She Goes(43)

My head jerks up, eyes meeting his. I hadn’t been about to explain. I didn’t want to hide behind excuses. But that cold rejection makes my hackles rise. I force them down again before I speak.

“I was about to say that it’s a long story, but I’m not going to make excuses. Yes, I broke into homes and robbed them. I got shot. I got out. I started using my mother’s maiden name and eventually wound up in Chicago, where you met me.”

“Convenient, wasn’t it?”

I frown. “Convenient?”

He pushes back his chair. “Before I met you, I was in serious danger of becoming one of those men who whines about how nice guys always finish last, how women don’t want a nice guy. I had a couple of women break it off with the ‘you’re such a great guy, but you’re just not for me’ crap. The kiss-off that tells me I’m boring as hell. I stopped dating and started complaining. My friends sat me down for an intervention. They challenged me to try again. To take a real chance. Was there a woman I’d love to ask out, but I was sure she’d turn me down? I said yes: you.”

“Me?”

“I saw you when I’d go into the bookstore café. I’d hear you laughing. I’d see you goofing around with coworkers. I’d see you being kind to patrons. I noticed you, and I knew I was not the kind of guy you’d ever go out with. But that night with my friends, I’d had a few drinks, and they convinced me to go for it. Two days later, as I was trying to work up the nerve . . .”

“You saw me get a traffic ticket right outside the building. You said I should fight it.”

“Perfect timing, wasn’t it?” he says.

I think he means the ticket. I’ve forgotten he’s angry, and I’m about to smile and say, yes, that ticket came at the perfect time. Then I see his expression.

“A boring, ordinary guy,” he says. “Who fell so hard for you he never once questioned what you saw in him.”

I blink. “What?”

“Plus he’s a criminal defense attorney,” he says. “It didn’t get any better than that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You used me, Bree. I realize that now. When Dubrand first contacted me and I began to have doubts about our marriage, I tried to tell myself I was wrong. Okay, not wrong. I understood that you were on the run, and you needed to hide, and I was your cover.”

“What? No, I never—”

“I pursued you. So it wasn’t as if you targeted me. But you saw an opportunity.”

“No.”

“Maybe it wasn’t that Machiavellian. I don’t actually think it was. You just . . . settled. It was an arranged marriage of sorts. I just didn’t realize it.”

“Paul, no. I did not—”

“That’s why I never confronted you. I loved you. Forget why you were with me. You were with me. By choice. Maybe I’d even won you over, however it started. And then you said it wasn’t working, and I knew what that meant. I’d served my purpose.”

“That was not—”

“At first, I thought you found someone. Eventually I realized that wasn’t the case. Maybe you got tired of me. Maybe you just got tired of the lies. I go back and forth, Aubrey. When I’m feeling sorry for myself, I’m certain you used me. Used me and left me. Then I see you with Charlotte, and I must give you the benefit of the doubt. There was a time when I even wondered if you had Charlotte to trap me. Something to threaten me with, if I tried to expose you. Or if I wouldn’t pay you off.”

“I have not taken one red dime—”

“I know.” His hands fold around his mug again. “You can stop pretending now, though. Bring out your money. I presume that’s why you didn’t take mine. You still have the money you stole.”

“I gave that away.”

His gaze lifts to mine. “What?”

“But I do have money. An inheritance, which means, yes, I don’t need yours. I did not use you, Paul. I swear I did not. But I did lie to you. I misled you. Which is why I don’t want any of our marital estate. All I care about is joint custody of Charlotte.”

He looks at me. For at least a minute, he looks at me. Then he says, slowly, “Would a half-million dollars convince you to give up that claim?”

I stiffen. “I will never—”

“You can still see her. Still be part of her life.”

I speak slowly, enunciating each word. “I would give you every penny I have for joint custody. Not full custody, because I would never take Charlie away from you. I don’t have a half million. Maybe a fifth of that. But it’s yours if you agree to joint custody.”

He shakes his head. “I’d never take your money. And I’d never try to take her from you, either. I was just . . .”

“Checking. In case I’m faking maternal affection.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I did not do what you think, Paul. I fell for you. I fell in love—”

“Don’t.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t. Please.” He gets to his feet. “You need to say that. I know your secret, so you’ll never risk hurting my feelings by admitting that you married me to be safe. I understand that you love Charlotte. I understand that you aren’t going to take anything from me, including her. I want . . .” He exhales. “I want a civil relationship, for her sake.” A pause. “I’ll go get her.”