The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(106)

“I hope you do, too. Even if it’s with Steffi.”

“Thanks.” The word felt thick as it tumbled from his lips. The irony that Val had found love while it still eluded him wasn’t missed.

“I guess we’re really done now.”

Silence settled between them. He didn’t want to remain married to her, yet they’d spent a decade of their lives together. Shared some good times alongside the not-so-good ones. He couldn’t pretend no part of him mourned the life they’d tried to build.

“We’ll never be done. We’ve got a daughter. We’re still a family.” He thought he might’ve heard a sniffle through the line. “You want to speak to Emmy before she goes to sleep?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hang on.” Ryan got out of his car and went inside to find Emmy. “Your mom wants to say good night.”

He handed Emmy the phone and then turned to go upstairs to change. He bumped into his mom and her mammoth basket of laundry near the top of the stairs.

“Let me.” He took the heavy basket of warm, freshly folded clothes from her and walked to her room.

“Thanks, honey. Your dad always disappears whenever I start folding the laundry.” She smiled, then studied him more closely and frowned. “You’ve looked like hell all week. Is Val giving you a hard time?”

“No.” He set the basket on her bed. “Actually, we’ve come to a settlement agreement. She’s been fair. Seems she and John will marry once our divorce is settled.”

“Huh. Well, I guess the good news is that you’ll be able to sort out your finances soon. Maybe you can buy that bungalow, after all. I’m sure Stefanie and Claire will work miracles.” She separated the clothes into piles on her bed, consciously avoiding eye contact. “I’ve missed seeing her this week. She sent one of her employees to do the trim work so she could get a jump on that project.”

He guessed his mom was fishing, but he wouldn’t take the bait.

“She’s got a lot going on.” He started for his room, then turned. “I can’t afford that bungalow, even with the settlement. It’d stretch me too thin, and I want to be able to afford to travel and do other things with Emmy. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here a few months while Emmy gets settled and adjusted. I’ll try to get out of your hair after the holidays.”

His mom opened a dresser drawer and loaded his dad’s boxers inside. “You stay as long as you need. And who knows, maybe that bungalow won’t be too expensive when all is said and done. Have faith.”

Faith. He’d lost that along the way. Failed relationships. A daughter who struggled despite his best efforts. No clear answer on how to help Steffi now that she was refusing his calls.

Emmy wandered into his mother’s room. “Here’s your phone, Dad.”

“Thanks.” He stuffed it into his pocket before he noticed a worried look in her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Emmy’s gaze darted from him to his mom and back. “Is Miss Steffi mad at me?”

“What?” He sent his mom a questioning gaze, which she answered with a shrug.

“She hasn’t come back in a few days. Doesn’t she like me anymore?”

Shit. His daughter had lost another woman from her life because of him.

Emmy looked so small and vulnerable, but he couldn’t confess the truth. “It’s got nothing to do with you. She’s very busy with lots of projects.”

“Can we go look at the cottage now?” Emmy made puppy-dog eyes at him. “You promised you’d take me one night.”

He shook his head. “She’s busy. We can’t barge in without any warning—”

“She’d love to show you around,” his mom interrupted. “In fact, you could take her some of the cookies we baked this afternoon. I’m sure she needs snacks to keep her energy up.”

“Mom,” Ryan began, then couldn’t get out of it without raising a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Go for five minutes.” She strode out of the room. “Come on, Emmy. We’ll put some cookies in a bag.”

Five minutes later, Emmy raced ahead down the lane. He could see her breath fogging in a trail above her head, her curls bouncing with each step.

Meanwhile, his stomach twisted round and round until he thought it might saw through his skin. Steffi would view this intrusion as another ambush, which wouldn’t help anyone.

Emmy dashed up the porch steps and banged on the door. “Miss Steffi, it’s me, Emmy!”

Ryan hung back several feet, leaning against one of the porch columns. Emmy banged on the door again before Steffi opened it.

“Emmy?” She crouched, sparing Ryan the briefest glance. “What’s up?”

“I brought you a snack.” She dangled the bag of cookies as a sort of peace offering.

“Double chocolate chip? My favorite.” Steffi reached for the bag. “That’s very nice. Thanks.”

“You haven’t come back to Memaw’s house all week.” Emmy’s tone sounded almost accusatory. “Dad says you’re not mad at me, but are you?”

“No.” Steffi’s brows drew together. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just finished with your memaw’s project, and now I have new projects. But you can visit me down here after school when you see my van out front—”