by Dale Mayer
If not, nothing changed. But if there was, then like Paris said, he’d done without a mother for a long time.
Maybe it was time to change that.
Chapter 34
Paris stood in the circle of Weaver’s arms. The stuffing was gone from her insides. If he hadn’t been holding her up, she’d have slid to the floor a long time ago.
She didn’t know where to go from here. Her history, her interpretation of events, the hurts, the pain, the sense of abandonment. Everything had changed. All of this information rolled around inside her head. Think about things – or maybe not think, just let sensations rise and fall. Let the lies fall away. The emotions rise and dissipate. Her life was changing from this point forward.
Thank heavens.
As if understanding, Weaver tightened his grip around her. Had he been a part of this? She figured he had. Was she upset about that? She had been earlier. Now… now she understood… maybe. Except her mind couldn’t reconcile betrayal and helping. When did one become the other?
Then she heard voices in the background. Constable Delaney.
Should she let him off the hook? She understood now what he’d gone through. Where he’d been at in his life when he’d spoken to her. What his mental process had been coming in.
She’d been terrified back then. Had been looking for bogeymen in her world and with her father gone, she’d placed Delaney in his spot. Especially with the power of the law he wielded firmly behind him.
He hadn’t deserved it. He’d been trying to warn her, to keep her on the straight and narrow. To be good for the rest of her life. He hadn’t meant to terrify her. Okay, maybe he had, but not to panic her.
Not to have her question everything she did in light of his warning. But she had.
If he hadn’t warned her, what would she have done differently? She’d still be afraid that she was too much like her own father. She’d still be worried that she wouldn’t be a good parent. The conflict over not being able to have children would remain.
As if he heard the mess in her head, Constable Delaney said to Jenna, “She’d been badly hurt for years. But a month or two prior to the final blow, she’d been hospitalized with internal injuries.”
Those memories washed through her. The pain. The shock. The dismay at learning she’d never have children.
The conversation still threaded through the air around them, and she knew she had to finish this. Gathering up her courage, she stepped back from Weaver’s arms and turned to face the cop. Her hand entwined with Weaver’s, a reassuring contact that she wasn’t alone.
“I don’t blame you for what you said that day.” Her tone was harsher than she wanted it to be. Her words sharper.
With a sigh, she tried again. “I was so traumatized back then that your words just added to the rest of the nightmare in my life,” she said. “I survived that childhood by learning to hold everything inside. So on the outside I looked calm and in control, cold even, whereas on the inside I was waiting for my world to blow up.” She paused, adding, “I knew I’d done something horribly wrong in the eyes of society, so even though everyone at the time said I’d done what I needed to do and wouldn’t be charged, I couldn’t believe them. Your words aligned closer to the fears inside and meant you were more likely to be right than the others.”
Weaver squeezed her hand. She smiled, staring down at their linked fingers, “So your words were the ones I remembered the most.”
Delaney nodded. “It was that calm that worried me.” He waited then added, “And I’m sorry for adding to your pain back then. You’d been through enough already. If I had a chance to do it all over again, I’d have approached the case very differently,” he said, his tone apologetic yet sincere. “You’ve been on my mind since. I worried about you. When I saw you here…well, I’d hoped to clear the air.”
For the first time, a natural smile crossed her lips. “And you did. Thank you for being persistent enough to push this. I wouldn’t have done it without that.” She slid a sideways look at Weaver. “I caught sight of you and Weaver speaking together this morning. I got quite a jolt.”
She felt Weaver start, and then he squeezed her hand again.
“Has he been plotting this meeting then?” she asked.
“No,” Delaney said. “I’d been trying to convince him to talk you into seeing me.” The older man smiled. “He refused to do anything out of your comfort zone and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. He’s been very protective.”
“But I did know they’d be here tonight,” Weaver said heavily. “I’m sorry, but this was something you had to do. An opportunity to deal with a huge issue.”
She nodded absently, remembering the sadness in his voice, the sense of finality she remembered. As if the workshop was coming to an end, and so was their relationship.
Maybe it was at that. She was confused and overwhelmed, as if her past had been rewritten. But along with that crazy array of emotions was a lot of confusion over her feelings for him and his involvement.
Last night was too special. Today’s ups and downs – traumatic.
So much had happened in such a short time she didn’t know what she should feel no matter what she did feel. And could she trust any of it given the tumultuous events?
“As much as I don’t appreciate the collaborative effort – I do appreciate it,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t strong enough to get here on my own.”
“I didn’t want to deceive you.”
“But you had to.” She nodded. “Got it.”
But she dropped his hand, unable to reconcile the issue. She stared down at the floor, confusion and heartache twisting her up inside. Was it a good thing what he’d done? It was time to let this all go. But could she? Was it a betrayal? Yes. Did she want to forgive him? Hell yes. Could she? She had no idea.
The whole mess was exhausting. From the bad day, now the evening. She’d planned on dinner with Weaver and spending the night with him but had no idea where all of this left her. Left them.
Did he want to move forward, or was this over for him? Was this his goodbye? Not that it made any sense, but then nothing did right now.
Glancing over at Jenna, she saw her conversing quietly with Delaney. Paris didn’t know if she was supposed to stay for her session tonight or if this was it. She hoped it was done – as in she was too tired for more analyzing. Especially her own psyche.
She needed to leave.
She needed to sort out the confusion going on.
She needed…she didn’t know what.
Then she saw exactly what she needed. She burst into tears and ran.
Into the arms of the man who stood in the doorway.
Sean.
*
Weaver watched Paris bolt and throw herself into the arms of a stranger.
Or maybe not. The two looked close enough to be family. And he knew. This was her brother Sean. The one whose life she saved.
He studied the man carefully, but all he really needed to see was the naked love in his face. This man cared about Paris like Weaver hadn’t ever seen anyone care before.
Weaver’s childhood had been shitty. But for these two, well, there were no words.
They’d been close during the abuse trying to help each other, and now that bond was even stronger today. He didn’t know if Sean had come on his own or if he’d been called. For Paris’s case, it was a good thing. But it also reminded him of his role in this. She’d turned away from him.
She’d gone running to Sean.
She didn’t know or trust him.
She trusted and loved her brother.
He wasn’t jealous of the bond between the siblings. But he’d love to be inside that inner circle. Unfortunately, the bond between family members, in this case brothers and sisters, often wasn’t elastic enough to let others inside. This insight into the family unit hurt. It made him feel like a kid again when he hadn’t belonged anywhere. Not even with his wife. She’d gone back to her family and left him behind. Now here, again, he was on
the outside looking in.
Not that there wasn’t room for him in the circle. But as yet, he hadn’t been invited in.
Then he watched Paris take a step back, her face streaming with tears but smiling and laughing. She opened her arms to a woman standing just to the side. A woman whose face was badly disfigured, but her smile was stunning, showing the beauty within. From Paris’s conversation, he realized this must be Robin. The woman Sean had met here at the seminar.
If there was a way to leave quietly, he’d slip out and go to his room. Leave Paris her privacy. Something he’d like right now, but there was no way to escape.
He felt disconnected. Uncomfortable. Unsure. Watching the tableau in front of him, he settled into a wider stance, crossed his arms, and waited.
Chapter 35
Paris’s heart swelled to bursting and then washed clean. A river of emotions flowed through her. So much pain. So much heartache. So much fear and so much love. For Weaver for making her do this. For Jenna who’d helped make this happen. For Sean who’d shown up to help her. She didn’t know if he’d been called in to help her or if he’d instinctively known she was struggling to the point of no return.
And then there was Robin. That she’d come to support her was huge.
She had no idea how they’d been able to get in, but she was damn grateful they were here. Even more grateful that she could say, “I’m okay.”
Sean, his hands clamped on her shoulders, held her back slightly so he could look into her eyes. Whatever he saw there made him smile. He tugged her closer and hugged her hard. “I’m very glad to hear that.”
“Did you come down to try and talk me into seeing Delaney?”
Sean nodded. “Absolutely. This was the biggie in your world, and I would have done anything to help you get past it.”
She wiped the tears from her eyes, gulping in fresh air. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said easily. “I can’t ever thank you enough for what you did.”
“No thanks necessary.” Smiling up mistily at her brother, she hugged him close. “I’m just sorry I didn’t do it before he beat you so badly.”
Sean shook his head. “It’s over. We need to move on. We’re good at that.”
His gaze lifted and he surveyed the few people in the room. She could tell who he was looking at by the way his gaze changed. It softened when he came to Jenna, hardened when he glanced at Delaney, and widened when his all-too-perceptive gaze landed on Weaver.
Sean slanted a questioning gaze at her.
And damn if she didn’t blush.
His grin was wide enough to split his face. “Jenna’s magic maybe?”
“Maybe,” she muttered in a low voice. “But maybe not. He was part of this.”
“Good. I like him already.”
She gasped and slapped him lightly. “That’s not fair.”
“Doing what needs to be done regardless of the personal cost to him is huge. And don’t kid yourself about a huge personal cost in this case because there was – still is from the look on his face. As if he’d like to be a million miles away.”
She stiffened and turned to face Weaver, but he was staring at Jenna and Delaney, an odd look on his face.
And she realized Sean was right. If he cared…he’d taken a huge risk of losing her if it ended up that his actions were so big she couldn’t get over it.
“It’s the betrayal,” she murmured to her brother. “Aren’t you supposed to support someone by not turning them in?”
“Unless turning them in is the only way for them to move forward. In this case, you weren’t going to see Delaney on your own. You needed to do this,” he said seriously. “And doing what needs to be done is painful, and it’s also painful for those around you.”
“It could have backfired on him,” she said, studying the cold detached look on his face.
“It did backfire on him.”
She spun to look at her brother. “Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s standing over there all alone. You’re here with me, wondering what to do about him.”
“I’m just still in shock… confused maybe,” she protested, “I guess. I don’t know. So much stuff has just happened that he’s mixed up in that mess in my mind.”
“Then separate him from that. He did what you weren’t strong enough to do. That is worth so much. And if he’s here, he’s got his own problems and you’re going to be triggering those.”
Shit. She flinched, remembering his ex-wife who’d decided he was part of her past and she’d grown past him. Paris had just done something similar.
Her brother spoke quietly to her. “Now that I know you’re going to be okay, I’m taking Robin out for dinner. Go talk to him.”
She stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered. With a misty smile, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek then stepped back. “Best brother ever.”
“Then go deal with the next problem.”
Robin grinned at his side. “Then bring him for dinner on Sunday. We’d love to meet him.”
Paris’s gaze widened over the easy acceptance on their part. And she realized there was no guarantee about this outcome. “We’ll see if I can fix this.”
Sean’s smile was breathtakingly full of love. “You can fix this. If you want to. You already know you’ll do anything to save someone you love.”
He took Robin’s hand in his and with a gentle smile, they turned and walked out.
Delaney stepped forward and held out his hand. “You’ve become a beautiful woman inside and out. You always had that potential, but now you’ve grown into that promise. Congratulations, and I’m so sorry for my part that hurt you, scared you, or caused you any discomfort since we met.” He shook her hand, gave her a sad smile, and walked out.
Now she had to face Jenna.
“Did you call Sean?” she asked Jenna.
“No.” Jenna shook her head. “He’s always known when you needed him. The same as you knew when he needed you, didn’t you?”
Surprised, Paris thought back to that fateful day when she’d come running to her brother’s aid. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Well, it is that way, and the good thing is you didn’t need him this time. By the time he understood you were in trouble and the time it took for him to get here, you’d dealt with it.” Her lips curled into a delighted smile. “I’m proud of you.”
Paris started. “I’m not proud of me. I should have done this a long time ago,” she muttered.
Jenna’s beautiful laugh rang free. “Hindsight is always a gift. You weren’t capable of doing anything about it before. You are now.”
“And thanks for that.”
“You owe Weaver thanks for that, too.” She reached out a hand and clasped Paris on the shoulder. “We’d asked him earlier to help you and he refused. He didn’t think you were ready and didn’t want to do anything to hurt you.”
Paris stared at her numbly. “He did?”
“He did. Today he knew you were running out of time, and he refused to do anything other than ask you to come – it was his condition that you be allowed to leave if you still weren’t ready.” Jenna stepped to the side. “So keep that in mind when you go to speak to him.”
Paris was still standing in shock and dismay as Jenna walked around her and left the room. Paris spun around to face Weaver, wondering what to say. What could she say?
Only to realize she was alone. He’d already walked out.
*
Weaver took the opportunity when she was busy talking to Delaney to slip away. He’d been walked out on before – not nice. There was no way he would stay there and wait for Paris’s rejection. The awkward explanations. Difficult good byes. Been there and done that. What was that lesson he’d not learned? Oh yeah, don’t fall for women who were in therapy.
Too bad he couldn’t seem to remember that lesson before he got involved.
Pissed and hurt and afraid to look at his future,
he made his way out the door and just kept walking. For hours. He needed to give her time. Anything less wasn’t fair. But he didn’t have to like it. Neither did he want to say goodbye.
He’d let her off easy. There had been enough heartache and trouble in her life already. Hell, she’d probably already let him go.
It was the way of healing. She’d moved on now.
Except they still had tomorrow to get through.
Tonight was a write off. Glancing at this watch, he was not surprised to see it was after nine already. He wished it were after midnight. Then he could go to bed. Not that he’d sleep. There was no way to get the thoughts of her out of his mind.
He’d hurt her.
There was no way around that. She’d consider it a betrayal. It wasn’t. He’d done it because he cared about her. Knew she had to take this step. Felt like he had no choice if they wanted a future together. But damn, that was arrogant of him. It was her life. She had a right to take the steps she needed to take on her own time. In her own way.
He’d overstepped his boundaries. He’d been worried about that. That she’d blame him. But Jenna had convinced him otherwise. Still, he’d made sure she had the choice.
Only really – what choice did she have?
When there in the room, cornered by everyone – had she had a choice? Yes. But not much of one. And not an easy one to exercise. She’d not had access to the doorway to be able to leave, Jenna and Delaney had filled it.
Paris had to face them.
So she’d been coerced.
And he’d been a part of it.
Not liking himself very much at the moment, he sat dry-eyed on the same bench they’d sat on earlier today as the wind picked up around him. Leaving him cold – inside and out.
He had to trust she’d see his point of view. Believe in him. Believe in what they had.
Because really – given the choice – he’d do it all over again.
Because she was special.
He was… less so.
He’d learned more than he thought possible about himself – and her – during this workshop. Arriving with a pompous attitude and superior sense of self, he’d thought he was comfortable here at this place in his life. After all, he’d already done a ton of work on himself. To a certain point he was. But this workshop had shown him that he had further to go than he’d thought. Some of those steps he’d taken unknowingly.