All or Nothing at All
Page 52
“No, you’re going to listen to me now. Because from now on, we’re done playing things your way. We’re done with you manipulating both of us. I’m going out for a while to wrap my head around this.”
“I understand. We can talk more later.”
“I can’t stand looking at you right now,” he said. The chill in his voice sliced her open and left her bleeding. “I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”
He never looked back. Just shut the door behind him.
Sydney slid down the wall and sank to the floor. Somehow, she had to stay strong. Convince him she’d made the best decisions for both of them at the time. Show him they could heal together and be a family.
Lowering her head on her bent knees, she prayed their second chance wasn’t gone forever.
chapter fifteen
He drove. With no idea of his destination, he turned onto dark roads that seemed vaguely familiar and chased sanity. Like shadows, his thoughts leapt out of his grasp, leading him further into madness.
He was a father.
Her words spun in his brain, causing more havoc. That little girl belonged to him, and he’d been kept from her. He didn’t care about Sydney’s tangled rationalizations or excuses. He deserved a chance to be a father and hadn’t been given one. But underneath all the messy emotions lay the cord of rationale that would guide him through the chaos. He needed to rip away the pain, grief, and anger. He needed to make a decision on what to do next and where the future for all of them lay.
Her betrayal ate at his gut. God, how he’d trusted her. Believed in her. Believed in them as a couple. How stupid to think they could topple the past and build a future when it was all based on deceit. All this time he’d been patient, tearing down each one of her walls, pleasuring her body, and through every kiss, she’d known and deliberately held the most precious thing of all from him.
Family.
With shaking hands, he followed the twisting hill to the top and cut the engine. The spill of house and land soothed his ravaged soul, and he stumbled from the car, needing someone to talk to, someone who would keep him from drowning. The dogs barked crazily when he rang the doorbell, and when his brother flung open the door, they jumped on him in merry greeting.
“Down, Balin, down, Gandalf. Where’s Raven when you need her?” Cal muttered, tucking them back in the house. Dressed in briefs and an old T-shirt, he blinked sleepily, pushing his fingers through his hair. “What’s up, man? It’d better be important. That party was worse than my crew celebrating after a job and—” He broke off. Reached out and grabbed Tristan’s arm. “What happened?”
Tristan shook his head. Once he would’ve handled this alone. He would sit by himself, think about all the options, quietly drink his wine, and make a decision. He was good at stamping down the tide of emotions that wrecked rational thinking. But tonight he realized he had his brothers back, and they might be the only things that could help him.
“I’m Becca’s father.” The words were choked out. He held on to Cal, feeling the ground tilt underneath him. “I’m Becca’s father, and I don’t know what to do.”
The shock on Cal’s face confirmed no one had known. They’d all been living alongside Becca with no clue she belonged to them. His brother gripped him like he did when he was drunk, holding him upright and guiding him through the door. “Okay, it’s going to be okay, Tris. I swear it. I got you.”
For some reason, he clung to his brother’s words and allowed himself to be led inside.
It only took half an hour for Dalton to get there. They set him up in the man cave—a special room Cal had insisted the house include for entertaining male guests. Morgan had pointed out he only saw his brothers and Brady, but he hadn’t cared. Decorated in rich wood and earth colors and packed with television screens, surround-sound speakers, elaborately carved game tables, and a fully stocked bar with leather stools, it was indulgent yet masculine. Dalton sat beside him on the leather couch while Cal paced. They’d given Tristan a snifter full of Cal’s expensive whiskey and insisted he drink it. He tried, but even though he technically knew it should be heating his throat and stomach with a burning sting, he felt nothing.
Maybe he’d never feel anything again.
Maybe that would be a good thing.
“You both never considered the idea she could be mine?” he asked for the third time, staring into his glass. Sydney used to tell him Cal’s whiskey reminded her of his eyes. He’d pretend to be embarrassed, but her compliment pleased him. That had been a lifetime ago.
“Never,” Cal bit out. “We weren’t on speaking terms when you left, and she got married so quickly. I figured you guys had just moved on. Yeah, she got pregnant fast, but I never questioned it.”
“I was in California at that point,” Dalton said. “By the time I got back, I knew the story everyone did. It hadn’t worked out with her husband, she had the baby, and he took a job overseas. She never said a bad word about him.”
“I was so stupid,” Tristan muttered. He drained his glass, and Cal quickly gave him another. “I asked her to come to New York with me and she said no. Said she wanted to stay in Harrington. We had a big fight and I left. But I came back three months later, because I realized I couldn’t live without her.”
Cal frowned. “I didn’t know you came back,” he said. “What happened?”
He lifted his head and gazed at his brothers. His heart felt like a barren wasteland where nothing would ever grow again. “She was having a wedding dress fitting and I asked her again to come with me. She told me she was getting married and had built her own life. And she never told me about her pregnancy.”
Dalton shook his head. “I can’t believe this. It just doesn’t sound like something Sydney would do. Why? What was going on with you two?”
The past surged up with all the memories. The times he’d pushed her away. The statements he’d made to her about feeling trapped in Harrington. The subtle way he’d insulted the life she said she wanted, hoping to push her to want more, be more, go explore the world. His refusal to say he loved her. “We had different views of our lives back then,” he said shortly. No way was he going to feel guilty or excuse her lies.
“I understand. We can talk more later.”
“I can’t stand looking at you right now,” he said. The chill in his voice sliced her open and left her bleeding. “I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”
He never looked back. Just shut the door behind him.
Sydney slid down the wall and sank to the floor. Somehow, she had to stay strong. Convince him she’d made the best decisions for both of them at the time. Show him they could heal together and be a family.
Lowering her head on her bent knees, she prayed their second chance wasn’t gone forever.
chapter fifteen
He drove. With no idea of his destination, he turned onto dark roads that seemed vaguely familiar and chased sanity. Like shadows, his thoughts leapt out of his grasp, leading him further into madness.
He was a father.
Her words spun in his brain, causing more havoc. That little girl belonged to him, and he’d been kept from her. He didn’t care about Sydney’s tangled rationalizations or excuses. He deserved a chance to be a father and hadn’t been given one. But underneath all the messy emotions lay the cord of rationale that would guide him through the chaos. He needed to rip away the pain, grief, and anger. He needed to make a decision on what to do next and where the future for all of them lay.
Her betrayal ate at his gut. God, how he’d trusted her. Believed in her. Believed in them as a couple. How stupid to think they could topple the past and build a future when it was all based on deceit. All this time he’d been patient, tearing down each one of her walls, pleasuring her body, and through every kiss, she’d known and deliberately held the most precious thing of all from him.
Family.
With shaking hands, he followed the twisting hill to the top and cut the engine. The spill of house and land soothed his ravaged soul, and he stumbled from the car, needing someone to talk to, someone who would keep him from drowning. The dogs barked crazily when he rang the doorbell, and when his brother flung open the door, they jumped on him in merry greeting.
“Down, Balin, down, Gandalf. Where’s Raven when you need her?” Cal muttered, tucking them back in the house. Dressed in briefs and an old T-shirt, he blinked sleepily, pushing his fingers through his hair. “What’s up, man? It’d better be important. That party was worse than my crew celebrating after a job and—” He broke off. Reached out and grabbed Tristan’s arm. “What happened?”
Tristan shook his head. Once he would’ve handled this alone. He would sit by himself, think about all the options, quietly drink his wine, and make a decision. He was good at stamping down the tide of emotions that wrecked rational thinking. But tonight he realized he had his brothers back, and they might be the only things that could help him.
“I’m Becca’s father.” The words were choked out. He held on to Cal, feeling the ground tilt underneath him. “I’m Becca’s father, and I don’t know what to do.”
The shock on Cal’s face confirmed no one had known. They’d all been living alongside Becca with no clue she belonged to them. His brother gripped him like he did when he was drunk, holding him upright and guiding him through the door. “Okay, it’s going to be okay, Tris. I swear it. I got you.”
For some reason, he clung to his brother’s words and allowed himself to be led inside.
It only took half an hour for Dalton to get there. They set him up in the man cave—a special room Cal had insisted the house include for entertaining male guests. Morgan had pointed out he only saw his brothers and Brady, but he hadn’t cared. Decorated in rich wood and earth colors and packed with television screens, surround-sound speakers, elaborately carved game tables, and a fully stocked bar with leather stools, it was indulgent yet masculine. Dalton sat beside him on the leather couch while Cal paced. They’d given Tristan a snifter full of Cal’s expensive whiskey and insisted he drink it. He tried, but even though he technically knew it should be heating his throat and stomach with a burning sting, he felt nothing.
Maybe he’d never feel anything again.
Maybe that would be a good thing.
“You both never considered the idea she could be mine?” he asked for the third time, staring into his glass. Sydney used to tell him Cal’s whiskey reminded her of his eyes. He’d pretend to be embarrassed, but her compliment pleased him. That had been a lifetime ago.
“Never,” Cal bit out. “We weren’t on speaking terms when you left, and she got married so quickly. I figured you guys had just moved on. Yeah, she got pregnant fast, but I never questioned it.”
“I was in California at that point,” Dalton said. “By the time I got back, I knew the story everyone did. It hadn’t worked out with her husband, she had the baby, and he took a job overseas. She never said a bad word about him.”
“I was so stupid,” Tristan muttered. He drained his glass, and Cal quickly gave him another. “I asked her to come to New York with me and she said no. Said she wanted to stay in Harrington. We had a big fight and I left. But I came back three months later, because I realized I couldn’t live without her.”
Cal frowned. “I didn’t know you came back,” he said. “What happened?”
He lifted his head and gazed at his brothers. His heart felt like a barren wasteland where nothing would ever grow again. “She was having a wedding dress fitting and I asked her again to come with me. She told me she was getting married and had built her own life. And she never told me about her pregnancy.”
Dalton shook his head. “I can’t believe this. It just doesn’t sound like something Sydney would do. Why? What was going on with you two?”
The past surged up with all the memories. The times he’d pushed her away. The statements he’d made to her about feeling trapped in Harrington. The subtle way he’d insulted the life she said she wanted, hoping to push her to want more, be more, go explore the world. His refusal to say he loved her. “We had different views of our lives back then,” he said shortly. No way was he going to feel guilty or excuse her lies.
