The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(20)
Ryan wondered how that felt, though—to truly love one’s wife. Like most of his Boston College teammates, he’d been attracted to Val. At twenty-one, she’d looked like a starlet. They’d had sex so often he’d worried he might hurt himself. But in those first few months, he’d never taken the time to really know her. In hindsight, all that sex had been about burying the pain of Steffi’s humiliating rejection. He’d thought winning Val’s attention would somehow prove something to Steffi. Make her see what she’d missed. Make her jealous. In truth, he’d probably been trying to prove something to himself. In any case, his idiotic plan for revenge had turned serious when Val got pregnant.
He’d gone into his marriage with good intentions, looking for things to love about her, and for a way to build a happy life. The kind of life he’d known as a kid and always assumed he’d create for his own children.
Val had been supportive while he was in law school. Both of them worked part-time jobs to put a roof over Emmy’s head and food in their stomachs. Once he got a full-time job, Val quit to be a stay-at-home mother. For a while, he’d thought they’d found a comfortable enough kind of love so that his little family might be okay.
Apparently, he’d seen what he wanted to see, because obviously things were never really okay. Love—deep love—never existed in their home. They’d both wanted something the other couldn’t quite provide, so Val went and found it elsewhere. He was still searching.
He grabbed the mail on his way inside and tossed it and his keys and phone on the table. Dropping his briefcase on the floor, he called out, “Emmy!”
When she didn’t answer, he wandered to the back of the house. Through the window in the kitchen door, he saw Emmy on the patio with Steffi. His daughter looked adorable, bent over in her ruffled dress while taking instructions on the proper use of a socket wrench.
Emmy tried to screw the washer and cap on a giant bolt that fastened the bottom plate that would form the base of the new walls. He had to chuckle at his little princess getting her hands dirty.
Normally, she preferred dolls, teacups, and Disney movies to hard labor. He’d routinely come home to find Val and Emmy doing at-home manicures. Val never gave Emmy real responsibilities, though, as if keeping her dependent would prevent her from growing up. In that wish, he couldn’t quite blame his ex. Days turned into weeks and months and years so fast he could barely believe how quickly the last decade had passed.
He opened the patio door, keeping his eyes on his daughter to give himself time to set his game face before he glanced at Steffi. “Hey. What’s going on out here?”
Emmy picked up her head and waved. “Look, Dad! I’m building a wall.”
Her eyes sparkled with pride and even a little stunned fascination. At a time when Emmy might otherwise be moody and unhappy, Ryan should be grateful to Steffi for keeping his daughter preoccupied. Part of him was, but another part worried about Emmy’s fragile heart.
“That’s great, princess, but is your homework finished?” He crossed his arms, looking like the killjoy he was.
“I’ll do it later.” She resumed winding the wrench handle, her little tongue poking its way out of the corner of her mouth while she concentrated.
Steffi peered down at the bolt. “That’s it. Tug really hard with both hands to make sure it’s extra tight. We don’t want the wall to fall on your head.”
Emmy giggled, and tugged with both hands, as instructed. Seeing her ditch dolls and glitter to happily hunker down with Steffi and a wrench tweaked Ryan’s heart. How different might life have been if things with Steffi and him hadn’t fallen apart?
“Let’s get your homework done before you get too tired.” It’d be okay if these two spent a little time together, but he’d have to keep an eye on this relationship. He didn’t hate Steffi anymore, but he still didn’t trust her. “Maybe you can help Steffi another day, as long as it’s okay with her.”
“Daddy.” Emmy scowled. “Pleeeease!”
He shook his head. “Don’t argue. Wash your hands and hit the books.”
Emmy dropped the wrench on the flagstone and stomped across the patio, her skirt flouncing as she went. “Who cares about stupid social studies anyway?” she grumbled before disappearing into the house.
“Sorry you got stuck watching her. I doubt my mom intended to be gone this long.” Ryan finally met Steffi’s gaze. He wiped his clammy palms on the insides of his pants pockets while standing there staring into her eyes. “I know you’ve got a schedule to keep.”
“How’s your dad?” Steffi broke the spell when she dropped to her knees to finish tightening the bolt.
“Gout. He’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t whine too much, in which case my mom will kill him.” Ryan chuckled, then caught himself and stopped.
Too late. When Steffi smiled, her dimples popped into place. He’d always liked those damn indents too much.
She joked, “I’ll keep an eye on Molly so she doesn’t end up needing your services.”
“Thanks.” He paused, seeking to prolong their conversation even as that desire bombarded him with panic. He tugged at his shirt collar, then crouched to her level. “Have you spoken with Peyton again?”
She sat back on her haunches before she answered. “I’m visiting her this weekend.”