by Mary Campisi
Helena shouldn’t have lied to Luke or pretended who she really was, but she’d needed to be sure Luke cared about her and not the assets attached to her name. “I never wanted to hurt him. If you believe nothing else, please believe that.” She sucked in a deep breath, forced out the memory she’d tried to bury. “I was engaged and about to marry when the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with admitted he loved someone else. Oh, he said he still loved me, but in a different way.” She paused, let the pain seep through her words. “But she was the one he wanted to marry. Not me. I didn’t understand until he started talking about finances. You see, I’d put his name on my house, bought him a car, given him money. We were going to be married soon enough; what did any of it matter?” She swiped at a tear. “But it did matter. A lot. And it cost me. I even had the privilege of paying for a wedding that never happened.”
“Bastard,” Charlotte hissed.
Elizabeth shook her head. “That’s horrible.”
Helena clasped her hands in her lap, stared at the clenched fingers. “I withdrew after that. How could I trust any man when I couldn’t trust my judgment to pick a decent one? I sold the house and told my brother and sister I couldn’t live near any reminders of what had happened. They didn’t like it, but they didn’t have much choice, not if they wanted my work. That’s when I started drifting from town to town, picking up odd jobs, trying to fit in and create. It was the creating that saved me. There was so much pain and anger inside, I had to get it out.” She let out a quiet laugh, shrugged. “Once the Annabelle Grace Lives cards hit the shelves, they skyrocketed. Guess I wasn’t the only miserable person who’d been done wrong.”
“And then Luke came along?”
Charlotte’s tone had turned more curious and less confrontational. Helena nodded. “I wasn’t interested in getting involved with any man, certainly not someone like your brother.”
“Like my brother?” The raised brow and clipped voice marked her displeasure.
Helena met her gaze. “A man who knows how to make a woman feel like she’s the only one who exists.”
“Ah.” It was Charlotte’s turn to nod. “My brothers both have that skill...so does my husband.”
It was difficult to tell whether that was a compliment or not. Elizabeth was much easier to read than Luke’s sister, and she didn’t shoot the evil eye whenever she didn’t like a response. Still, how could Helena fault the woman for caring so much about her brother and trying to protect him? “But I never felt like I was being played or that his intentions weren’t genuine. I knew the signs from my last relationship disaster and Luke told me how his friends’ wives tried to match him up, and how it always ended in a mess. We were honest about our feelings for one another, even when those feelings scared us because they were too soon or too strong.”
Elizabeth nibbled on her bottom lip, her hand resting on her pregnant belly. “But you didn’t trust him enough to tell him who you really were?”
“It wasn’t Luke I was worried about; it was me. I didn’t trust myself to be objective where he was concerned. When he was around, the emotions were so high and strong, I couldn’t think.” Her voice dipped, softened with remembering. “I worried that I’d grow desperate enough to settle for anything, and I couldn’t do that. I had to know he cared about me, not the money. And when I found out I was pregnant, and he wanted to get married, I couldn’t go through with that either...”
“You know women usually have a fake pregnancy, not a fake marriage,” Charlotte said with a scowl.
Helena ignored the comment. “I was not going to trap Luke into a marriage he’d later regret. I wanted to give him time to see what it would be like once the newness of us being together wore off and the baby came along. I figured if he still felt the same way, then I’d convince him to have a more formal ceremony—a real one.”
“And you’d never tell him how you’d tricked him into thinking the first one was the real one?” Charlotte jumped off the couch, paced the room, hands fisted on her hips. “You think it’s okay to just lie in a marriage?”
“No, of course not.” Helena clutched the edges of the chair, sucked in deep breaths. She loved Luke; she’d done this for him. Couldn’t anybody see that?
“I’ll bet you almost croaked when Mom suggested you renew your vows.” Charlotte shook her head, continued the pacing. “Though I have no idea how we’re going to tell her about you and Luke...”
“We’re not.” Elizabeth glanced at Charlotte, then settled her gaze on Helena. “We’re not going to tell Rose because that poor woman has nothing to hold onto but the happiness of her children. Rogan thinks she’s slipping again and he’s worried about her. He said we should all act like everything’s fine with Luke and Helena, and I agree.”
“But what about the ceremony she’s organizing? We can’t go through with that.” Luke hadn’t spoken a word to her in three days, had disappeared for hours and taken to sleeping in Rogan’s old room, telling his mother Helena couldn’t get comfortable in the tiny bed. As if they hadn’t fallen asleep on her couch more than once and slept all night. But he’d spoken with such sincerity, why wouldn’t his mother believe him? Why wouldn’t anyone believe the man when he looked at them like that, when the words that slipped from those lips were coated with caring and concern?
“She’s right,” Charlotte said from across the room where she was doing yoga poses. “This would be a real ceremony with the mayor officiating. Mr. Pomp and Circumstance is definitely going to require a copy of your marriage certificate.” Pause as she moved into a downward dog pose. “And since you don’t have one of those...”
Elizabeth rubbed her belly as though the baby inside would soothe her. “Oh, this is not going to be easy.”
“The mayor did say he needed a copy of the certificate. He offered to have his clerk request a copy if we provided the details.” Helena rubbed her temples, remembering the conversation too well. “Of course, there are no details to provide...”
“Since there’s no marriage certificate,” Charlotte said, then added, “At least not a real one. I suppose you could create a fake document.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Charlotte, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. We’ll find a way; it’s just going to take some creative brainstorming.”
“Uh-huh.” Charlotte crouched on the floor, did a handstand against the wall. “Good luck with that.”
What a mess. No amount of clever brainstorming would guarantee Luke would show up for a ceremony—even if it were fake—where she was the other half of the couple. Helena placed a hand on her belly and thought of the baby. What did she know about being a mother? People said you learned as you went along, that you did the best you could and that’s all anyone expected. But what did that really mean? That no matter what you did, you’d probably mess up your child in some way so just accept it? What if the parent were the mess? What if she weren’t fit to be a parent?
And what about Luke? He’d admitted being a parent hadn’t been on his radar. Yes, radar had been the word he’d used, but then he’d smiled and said something like every good pilot knows how to change course when necessary. She’d been so caught up in that smile and the huskiness in his voice that she hadn’t dissected the meaning in those words. And when his tanned fingers splayed across her belly, there’d been no room for logic or common sense. Emotion took over and she let herself believe they could be a couple, could be parents, could have a life together. She let herself believe withholding the truth was protecting them both until they were sure, but all it had done was destroy what they’d shared.
“I don’t want to hurt anybody else,” Helena said. “I’ll do whatever this family thinks is best.”
Charlotte kicked out a leg and ended in a standing position. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard since you arrived.”
Elizabeth ignored Charlotte. “Don’t give up. I know it seems hopeless right now, but please, don’t give up on Luke.” Her next words spilled with sadness and under
standing, “And don’t give up on yourself. I’ll help you. I’ll come to your doctor appointments if you want, be by your side as long as I can...” She smiled, let out a soft laugh. “Until this baby decides to join us.”
This woman was goodness and compassion and Helena would need that in the coming months. “Thank you.” She spotted Charlotte approaching her, tensed for the woman’s next comments. They would be harsh and judgmental, like a sister protecting her brother. How could anyone fault her for caring so much? But when she spoke, there was curiosity rather than condemnation in her voice.
“Why would you stay? Even if you figure out a way around the marriage thing, then what? Do you know how difficult it’s going to be for all of us to see my brother and pretend you’re still a couple? And what about you?” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, those green eyes narrowed on Helena. “Luke is less forgiving than I am, and way less trusting. I know my brother. Even if he still cared about you, he’d never admit it, not even to himself. I agree that we can’t let Mom know yet, but down the road, after the ‘marriage,’ if that happens, you two are going to have to move on.”
Move on. What did that mean? And how did a person move on when she couldn’t imagine life without the man who owned her heart? Was it even possible? Tears slipped down her cheeks, trailed to her chin, landed on her shirt. She would need to be strong for the baby, find her focus and direction, with or without Luke, but not today. That time would come soon enough. Helena opened her mouth to answer Charlotte, but all that fell out were whimpers.
“Oh, Helena.” Elizabeth scooted off the couch, hugged her. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t give up yet. Please.”
More tears followed by shoulder heaving and gushes of torment. “I’m so scared.” Pause. “And so sorry. So sorry.” For a short time, she’d believed she’d be part of this family, share the holidays and the dinners, learn the recipes and the stories that made the Donovans who they were. Most of all, she’d belong; people would care about her for herself, not for what she could do or what she could buy them. Luke had promised to teach her how to foxtrot and waltz and he’d laughed when she told him she had no rhythm. I’ll teach you, he’d said. We’ll be great together, you’ll see. We’re naturals. But there would be no dancing or finding anything out together because she’d ruined that chance the first time she lied to him. “I love him,” she whispered. “How can I move on from that?”
“Hey.” Charlotte laid a hand on Helena’s shoulder, said in a gentle voice, “I may not be your biggest fan, but if my brother really loves you, the truth will sneak out one way or another. We just have to be looking for it.” She leaned down, whispered, “And if we see it, we won’t stop until we make sure he sees it, too.”
Chapter 15
Enough was enough. How long was this craziness between Luke and Helena going to continue before somebody with a logical brain stepped in and put a stop to it? Those two cared about each other; it was obvious to anyone within eyeshot of them. Well, it wouldn’t be obvious these past few days because they weren’t speaking much and made a point not to look at each other unless Rose was in the room.
Poor Rose. She had no idea her son and the woman she thought was his wife were suffering right now. Nope. Rose Donovan was so busy planning a wedding vow renewal for the unhappy couple that she failed to notice how miserable and uncoupled they were. When Charlotte filled Tate in on the rest of Helena’s story the other night, she’d talked about a user ex-fiancé and siblings who cared more about their sister’s greeting card production than her. His wife had used words like sad, tragic, and hopeless, and he’d seen the gleam in her eye that said she might have misjudged her almost sister-in-law and intended to do something about it.
Tate couldn’t leave his wife to devise a plan on her own, not unless he tempered her overimaginative ideas with a few common-sense ones—which he would provide once he had more information. That’s why he’d invited Helena to the office and he guessed she’d accepted because she realized Luke wasn’t going to talk to her. About anything. That wasn’t exactly correct. Tate had the unfortunate bad luck to overhear a few snippets of conversation between them last night.
Luke? Can’t we try to talk?
It’s too late for talking.
Don’t do this. Please.
I’ve got nothing to say to you.
I love you.
Stop it. Don’t you dare say that again.
Tate had closed the bedroom door, glad Charlotte hadn’t heard them. That’s when he’d decided something had to be done about this standoff and invited Helena to the office. She sat on the couch a few feet away, looking sad and so alone. He couldn’t think of her as a Donovan because she wasn’t really married to Luke, even though Rose still thought they were. It was a mess, maybe as bad or worse than the disaster he and Charlotte had faced. Who could say? When lies and subterfuge got in the way of honesty, it was never good. People got hurt, hearts were shattered, lives destroyed, even if the intentions were honorable. Had Helena’s intentions been honorable? That was the big question and one he intended to find out.
“I know you’re hurting,” he said in a gentle voice. “So is Luke, even though he’ll never admit it. If you still love him and want to be with him, then whatever you can tell me will help.”
She sat on the other end of the leather couch, her amber eyes sparkling with tears, her voice smothered in sadness. “Love him? I love him so much it hurts to breathe. I can’t imagine life without him. I know I made mistakes, hid the truth from him when I shouldn’t have... I’m so sorry, but it doesn’t matter. He refuses to talk about it.” She sniffed, cleared her throat. “He’ll never trust me again and I don’t blame him, but all I want is another chance and I’ll do anything to get that.”
Tate rubbed his jaw, tried to determine the sincerity of her words. The tears were real, though most women could manufacture them on command. But the emotion, the rawness in her voice, the desperation on her face? That told of pain and tragedy, the kind that came from love gone wrong. He sucked in a breath, blew it out long and slow, anticipating the second his next words registered. “Charlotte told me you’re not really married.”
She blinked, blinked again. “Oh. Yes, of course she’d tell you. That’s what husbands and wives do, right? They tell each other the truth.” Her voice dipped, filled with sadness. “I wish I’d gone through with the wedding… The real wedding. I didn’t want to tie him down; I wanted to give him a choice and a way out if he changed his mind.” A shrug, followed by more words coated in sadness. “That was foolish of me, wasn’t it? I should have married him and then he might have to try and work things out and couldn’t get rid of me so easily.” Pause, and then, “Rose is pushing the vow renewal and I’m worried about what will happen to her if we don’t go through with it. Luke said her mental state is frail and I don’t know what she’ll do if she finds out we were never married.”
That was everyone’s worry. What would happen when Rose found out the marriage was just a sham? Would she suffer another breakdown? Would she give up? Would she feel so betrayed she’d fall into a deep depression? Again? “Everyone’s worried about that, especially Luke.” Rogan and Charlotte had tried to ask him about the vow renewals and what he planned to do, but he’d said he couldn’t think about it. For a shoot-from-the-hip kind of guy like Luke Donovan, that meant there might still be hope. “If he hasn’t told his mother the truth about you and him, then there’s still a chance he’ll go through with it.”
“You mean he’d marry me for real to save his mother? He’d never do that.” When Tate nodded, her shoulders slumped, her voice cracked, “I don’t know if I could survive that, but what about Rose? I can’t be responsible for her heartache.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much how everybody feels. If you’re exposed, then what? Rose is supposed to forget the hours in the kitchen with you, the handkerchief wedding things she’s teaching you to make? And what about the stories she’s shared because she believes you’re family?�
�� He did not want to think about the betrayal his mother-in-law would feel. “She’s come to love you, Helena, and she believes you’re the perfect match for her wayward son. You don’t steal that from a mother and tell her it was all a lie.”
Helena sat up straight, clasped her hands against her knees and murmured, “It wasn’t a lie, Tate. The emotions were real.” Those eyes that reminded him of a bourbon neat glittered. “We were good together.” Her voice dipped as though there wasn’t enough oxygen to get the words out. “He wouldn’t have hurt me; I see that now.”
Why did people always see the truth when it was too late? If Helena had trusted Luke enough to be up front with him from the beginning, the guy might not have liked the fact that she had money, but he wouldn’t have bailed on her. And the fake wedding would have been a real wedding, no doubt about that. Tate had seen the way Luke treated his “wife,” like a man who’s been gifted a present he thinks was meant for someone else—because it was too good to be true. He knew that feeling; that’s how he’d felt about Charlotte; that’s how he still felt. But he’d also known the hurt and anger of betrayal when she’d gone behind his back and confronted Marybeth Caruthers and asked the woman if her son was his. That still stung when he thought about it, which he tried not to do.
Helena’s actions were inexcusable and wrong, but he could see why she wanted to protect herself and maybe protect Luke, too. Of course, Luke would never see it that way, not when he’d finally gotten the courage to care about a woman. Tate understood that, too. “Look,” he said, “I get what you did, and I even understand why you did it. Charlotte and I have had our own trust issues and the whole not-wanting-to-open-up-and-get-hurt thing. It wasn’t good, and we got past it, but not without a little—” he rubbed his jaw, worked up a smile “—family interference.”