The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(35)

“Perfect for Florida,” he teased, and tugged her earlobe. “Let’s trade two pajamas for a sweater and pants, just in case.”

“Okay.” She tipped her head from side to side while choosing which pajamas to leave behind.

“Are you sure you want only dresses?” He thought about the potential activities—biking or hiking—that might take place on the hilly island. “No shorts or sneakers?”

“It’s vacation, not work.” Her solemnity forced him to stifle a laugh. She really took “helping” Steffi seriously, but years of Val’s training would not be undone so quickly.

“I see.” He leafed through her things. “These are pretty. Are you excited?”

Her face glowed. “Mommy says John’s house has a private beach.”

The gleam in her eye when she said the word private turned his stomach. Hopefully his getting full custody would weaken Val’s materialistic influence in time. “I’m sure his house is very nice, although I prefer a public beach where you have lots of people, food, and music.”

Emmy’s frown suggested he’d cast a shadow on the glory of John’s private beach, which felt like a small win. “I wish you were coming, Dad. It’d be more fun if it was me and you and Mom.”

Emmy’s wish crushed whole pieces of his soul.

Ryan imagined John’s massive beach house with a large deck. He pictured Val sipping a cocktail while flipping through a magazine, and Emmy running around the yard or sand, giggling. John at the grill. A perfect family affair, were it not for the fact that John had usurped Ryan’s family.

Meanwhile, Ryan would be alone. Worse than alone—he’d be with his parents. Not exactly how he’d envisioned his thirties.

“Don’t think about me.” He poked her tummy and forced a grin. “Have fun with your mom, and we’ll have our own fun when we go sailing.”

“Mommy says we’re going sailing, too.” Emmy zipped her reloaded suitcase.

Another punch to the gut. How like his ex to steal the chance to be the first to take Emmy sailing. Val didn’t even like to sail, and Ryan had wanted Emmy to learn on his old boat. None of this was Emmy’s fault, though, and he’d rather chew off his arm than ruin her excitement. “Perfect! That way you’ll be able to be my skipper next weekend.”

“Okay!” She smiled up at him. “Is Miss Lockwood still coming?”

“I suppose, although I’d like you to bring a young friend, too.” He wasn’t convinced he could survive an afternoon with Steffi on Knot So Fast, so the more people the better. “Have you invited anyone yet?”

“No.” Emmy didn’t even look sad. Maybe he should get her to a counselor.

“I’ll see if Steffi’s free next weekend.” He realized then that he’d never told her about the change in plans. Surely, she must know from Emmy.

“Can I go finish my show now?”

“Of course.” He kissed her head and watched her bound out of her bedroom. His old bedroom, one now devoid of the medals, trophies, and photographs that his mom had boxed up. The room seemed much smaller than the one of his memories, where he’d made so many plans.

He sat on the corner of the twin bed and let his mind wander, thumbing through his past goals. He’d accomplished some, like the DI soccer invitation from Boston College and graduating from law school. Others, like creating a family of his own, had fallen apart.

Lately he’d been losing more battles with doubt than normal. Had he been a good husband, or had he given Val reason to seek love elsewhere? Could he be a good father when he hadn’t moved heaven and earth to keep his marriage together? Did he owe it to Emmy to give his marriage a Hail Mary? And if not, how would he provide an example of love and commitment for his daughter in the wake of a failed marriage?

He flopped backward onto the mattress and closed his eyes, his hands folded over his abdomen. The house smelled like dust and wood and those sickly-sweet vanilla candles his mom loved to burn. Soon the weather would turn cooler, and the old radiators would ping and pop as they came to life. Old houses made a lot of noises, and he used to know them all.

He’d found workarounds to some of them, like when he’d sneak out the window some nights rather than attempt the squeaky stairs. Before too long, his daughter would be a teen and test his limits. He wasn’t ready for that, nor did he look forward to her first crush . . . or her first heartbreak.

Like always, broken hearts reminded him of Steffi.

Had fate driven them both back to Sanctuary Sound now for a reason? He’d never been a big believer in destiny. It had always sounded like an excuse to be selfish, or a way to avoid accountability for failures. But maybe he’d rejected the whole concept because he needed to believe that he had more control over his life than he actually did. Some joke. Now he had control over absolutely nothing. Not of his soon-to-be ex-wife. Not of his daughter’s behavior in school. And not of his mother’s choice of contractor.

That first day—seeing Steffi standing on the porch—he’d literally shaken with hostility. Since then, the cold anger consuming him had melted. He now kept his composure in her presence—for the most part, anyway. A month ago he wouldn’t have believed he’d be lying here wondering if they could be friends again after everything that had gone down.