Tomorrow morning for the start of exam week, the best self-defense instructor in all the world would get shortbread, hopefully like his mama made in Scotland. She sampled a corner, and the buttery sweetness almost melted in her mouth.
Yum.
Pleased, she returned to making guacamole. Her children loved Mexican food, so she was making an enchilada casserole for Dillon’s welcome home meal.
And, after they caught up on everything, she’d upset their balance by telling them about Ghost.
With her free hand, she patted her tightening chest. Relax, Valerie. Why was she letting herself get worked up this way? Her children were in their twenties, not teenagers. Her being with Ghost might come as a shock to them, but after a moment, they’d realize she couldn’t be expected to live like a nun forever.
Of course they would.
She mashed the avocados harder, grateful she’d decided to cook for them. It gave her something to do with her hands.
In her small kitchen, Valerie studied Hailey and Dillon who’d perched on the tall stools on the other side of the island.
Rather than digging in with their usual big appetites, they were nibbling at the nachos she’d set out to hold them over until the chicken enchilada casserole finished baking.
Her introverted daughter was always quiet, but gregarious Dillon was also subdued today, although he’d given them a lovely summary of his time in China.
She studied him for a moment. He had her coloring with thick, dark blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, but had Barry’s big-framed body. He’d lost a few pounds while overseas, but not enough to be of concern. The faint crease between his eyebrows was more worrisome.
She’d stalled long enough.
“I know you both asked how I’m doing these days”—don’t mention Barry—“and actually, I’m doing better than I’d expected. I’ve, uh, even started dating again.”
Dillon stiffened and glanced at Hailey, whose face had gone still.
They didn’t speak at all.
Okay, okay, she’d known this wouldn’t go over well, not when the children still hoped for a reconciliation.
Valerie clasped her hands together. Despite the warmth of the oven behind her, she felt cold. “Anyway, the man I’ve been seeing—his name is Finn. He’s also a professor at the university, and I’d like you both to meet him. Maybe the next time you—”
“Is he who got you the job there?” Her son’s expression turned hostile.
“What? No, I didn’t meet him until—”
“Why would we want to meet the man who you were…were cheating with? He sounds like a real bastard to me,” Hailey said.
Dillon scowled. “I didn’t believe Dad when he told us about this guy—and about you.”
At their furious expressions, she felt her breathing start to go strange. Tight bands wrapped around her chest. “Your father and I have been apart since last November. He doesn’t have anything to say about who I date. Or about anything I do.”
“He should,” Hailey said, straightening. Her eyes were…cold.
Disgusted.
“You were married for over twenty years, and you tossed him aside like he was garbage. Left him.” Hailey’s voice rose. “Did you know he started drinking? Because of you?”
This was…this was wrong. Lies. But Hailey had always been a daddy’s girl, had idolized Barry. And Valerie had reinforced her children’s belief in him, covering for him, propping him up as needed to keep from ruining his bigger-than-life image.
She’d been a fool.
“He was drinking before I left.” Valerie kept her tone quiet and reasonable.
“Yeah, I bet he was. Because he was trying to hold onto a marriage, hoping to be loved by someone who didn’t give a shit about him.”
“Hailey, that’s not—”
Dillon interrupted, his tone ugly. “He let you go, figuring you’d get your head on straight and return to him. Because he loves you—although, fuck, right now, I don’t know why.”
The words shot through her like knives, and her mouth went dry.
Her son, her baby, scowled at her. “I can’t believe you cheated on him; you’re sure not the person I thought you were.”
“Th-that’s not true, Dillon. I never—”
“Don’t even try to lie to us; Dad told us how it was.” Her son pointed a finger at her. “You need to go back to him and make it work. Put some effort into it this time.”
“Honey, we’re divorced. There were reasons I left him—and I’m not going to return to your father.”
“Yes, you fucking are.” Dillon’s voice rose to a shout—the kind of angry volume that had silenced Valerie since before she’d even learned to talk. “Or you can just write yourself out of my life.”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear her parents shouting at her. “You can just leave, Valerie. Leave and don’t come back.” Because they hadn’t loved her.
Didn’t her children love her at all? Taking a step back, she tried to find her backbone. Find the words to fix this.
She needed to speak, to tell them what had happened. But her words had dried up like desert sands.
When Dillon stood, so did her daughter.
Valerie pushed air through her throat, managed to find her voice. “Hailey, you don’t believe—”
“You screwed around on Dad, the best guy in the world. How could you, Mom?” Hailey shook her head.
“And he still wants you back.” Dillon snapped. “I couldn’t believe it, but he does.”
“You need to fix things, to go back where you belong.” Tears filled Hailey’s eyes. “Or…or you won’t see me or Luca again.”
The horrendous threat hit Valerie like a hammer to the chest.
Her children walked out, Hailey closing the door gently behind them.
“No,” Valerie whispered. And her heart snapped in half.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
How had everything gone so wrong? Valerie sat behind the desk in her small classroom as her students finished their essays. Don’t think of Hailey and Dillon. Of their cold faces as they walked away from her. Not now.
Her eyes still felt hot and swollen despite her bathing them in cold water before coming in.
Because she’d cried—oh, how she’d cried. When she was young, she’d been sure older people could handle anything. Adults never became upset, never cried their heads off.
Or spent hours thinking of the different things she could have said, how she might have found the right words to turn the disaster around.
Or would become so angry. At Barry, the lying bastard, but also at Hailey and Dillon.
How dare they not listen to her? How could they possibly think she’d lie to them or cheat on their father?
After a glance at the wall clock, she sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face.
How much of this is my fault? My doing?
She’d always felt parents should support each other, stand together, for the children. That it was good for the kids to see their parents as strong and honorable, worthy of emulation.
So when Barry was inconsiderate or forgetful or inconsistent, she’d fixed his mistakes, covered for him, or made excuses.
Because she’d been too insecure to initiate uncomfortable conversations and demand he pull his weight, she’d enabled him.
She’d been a fool.
It’d taken Finn to show her how honesty and openness should form the foundation for a relationship.
Gods, she wished she could stay home and try to come up with solutions to this mess. But it was finals week. She had a duty to her students.
Finally, the class period was over. Filing out, the young men and women gave her worried looks. Jamail hesitated for a second, obviously wanting to show his concern, but Valerie shook her head at him.
Maybe she wasn’t holding up as well as she’d hoped.
In the hallway, Queenie confirmed her worry. “You look like shit, woman. How about I give you a ride home?�
��
So blunt. So Queenie. “Thank you, but I’m not sick. Just…” She shrugged.
Queenie’s eyes narrowed. “Problems between you and your soldier-professor?”
The accuracy of the guess made Valerie take a step back. “In a way. It seems we’ve hit a rocky patch.”
“Want me to—”
“No, it’s not him. My children and ex are displeased.”
Queenie scowled. “Don’t let the past decide your future.”
Her future. Yes, she had a future. “I…that actually helps.” Valerie pulled in a breath. “Thank you.”
“You can handle this.” Queenie patted her shoulder.
As they parted, Valerie could only wish she had the same confidence.
What was she going to do?
A few minutes later, she realized she’d walked to Finn’s office and was simply…standing…in the doorway.
One hip resting on the edge of his desk, he was talking to a student. Laughing about something. The sound of his deep voice eased some of the tension inside of her.
And made her heart hurt worse.
Seeing her, he stopped, warmth filling his gaze. Then his eyes narrowed as he studied her.
He turned to the student. “Work on the project today and we’ll see how you do.”
“Sure thing. Thanks, Dr. Blackwood.”
The young man headed out, and really, she should too, because…this wasn’t the time. Why had she even come here? She needed to save this talk for later.
“Sorry, Finn.” She took a step back as he crossed the room.
He took her hand, pulled her into his office—and closed the door.
“What the hell happened, lass?” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. “Did someone die?” His voice was so gentle, so concerned. The man didn’t shout, even when angry.
He wasn’t the storm; he was the mountain. Winds might batter at him, but nothing would move him.
He was her place of shelter. Her sanctuary.
“You’re shaking, sweetheart.” He stepped back and cupped her chin. “Talk to me.”
“It’s the children. I had them over last night and tried to tell them about you, only they—Barry told them I cheated on him before the divorce and—and they believe him.”
“That bastard.”
“They said I have to go back to him—or they won’t see me again. Or let me see Luca.”
* * *
What the hell? Ghost tried to tamp down the anger rising inside him. It wasn’t easy, not when his woman—his woman—trembled. Her color was dead white.
Okay, think, Colonel. Because she sure wasn’t. “Valerie, your kids don’t have the right to order you to return to your ex. No one can make you go back to Barry. You’re divorced.”
“I know that, of course, I do.” She pulled back. Away from him. “But…families do split apart over divorces, divide into sides. And they think I’m a liar. A cheater.”
He said carefully, “Children often overreact over things like this. We’ve both seen it happen, haven’t we?”
She paused. “Y-yes.”
“You can’t let them dictate your life for something they want. They’ll get over it and—”
“I…don’t know if they will. You didn’t see their faces. Hear them.” She laid her hand over his chest and stared up at him.
The skin around her eyes was puffy. She’d been crying. Fuck him, but she’d been crying, and he hadn’t been there for her. “Lass…are you really planning to do what they want?”
Tears filled her eyes, but she shook her head. “No. But will it—can you forgive me if I stay alone until I figure out how to handle this?”
He cupped her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “There is no forgiveness. You must do what you need to do. Don’t you think I could help?”
Her lips curled up slightly, even as more tears brimmed in her eyes. “You could help, except if I’m with you, all I’d be able to think about is how mad I am they’d threaten what we have. And I can’t be mad or let myself burn bridges behind me. Not with my children.”
Fuck.
“It annoys me you’re making sense rather than flinging yourself in my arms and asking me to fix this.” He hugged her close, relieved at how she hugged him back so tightly. “Take the time you need, and call me or come over when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”
Unlike her insensitive children.
“Thank you.” She pulled back. “I just need to…to think. To find a way to get through to them.”
Going up on tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his jaw and walked out, leaving only the light scent of jasmine behind.
A minute later, a tap on the door made him look over.
“Z. What are you doing on campus?” Ghost could hear the lack of welcome in his voice and couldn’t find it in himself to care. How the fuck was he going to—
“Was that our Valerie I saw with tears on her face?” Z’s expression was as grim as Ghost felt inside.
“Yes. It was.” Tears. God, she was breaking his heart. “This isn’t a good time—” He stopped himself. Actually, Z might have some ideas.
Ghost straightened. “Let’s walk. If I stay here, we’ll get interrupted by students.”
“All right.” Z laid a folder on the desk. “Jessica asked me to drop off the contracts for service companies for the house and grounds. They should have stayed with the mansion but were packed by mistake.”
“Ah, fine. Thank you.” Ushering Z out, Ghost locked the door. “How’s the baby?”
“She’s doing quite well, thank you.” Z’s gray eyes lightened. “She’s beautiful—far quieter than Sophia was her first few days, so of course, Jessica and her mother are trying to decide which relative Aubrielle takes after.”
Ghost held the outside door for Z. “I believe inheritance guessing is a mandatory sport after a new addition to the family.”
On the campus grounds, the air sweltered as storm clouds from inland piled into a dark mass. Students huddled on benches, frantically studying for their exams.
“Valerie doesn’t seem the type to upset easily,” Z prompted.
“She’s not.” Ghost felt the muscles in his cheek flex. “It seems her children handed out an ultimatum. Said she has to return to her ex-husband or not see them or her grandchild again.”
Z stared in disbelief.
“I haven’t met her kids.” Although Ghost had been looking forward to getting an introduction. Before this bullshit. “I have no idea if they’d follow through.”
“It’s quite a threat.”
“Z, she dotes on her children and grandbaby. He’s only two.”
“What did you suggest she should do?” Z asked, mildly.
“I said they couldn’t force her to return to the asshole.” Ghost felt anger rise again. “Then she told me about the threat.”
“And now, she’s in a no-win situation.”
“She wants some time to think. But it leaves her without my support.” And he found that impossible to tolerate.
“Ah.” Z tilted his head back, studying the black clouds. “Can she work through this on her own?”
“I’m not sure.” The rising wind carried the heavy scent of ocean. “She is the calmest, most rational person I know. However, her parents were unloving assholes. Their verbal abuse and cruelty left scars, and her divorce…”
“Insecurities do tend to resurface with the trauma of a divorce.” Z nodded.
“Exactly. And last night, her children essentially said their love comes with conditions.” Ghost’s hands closed into fists before he forced them open. “It’s a shit show.”
Z’s mouth tightened. “She didn’t need more wounds. Especially that kind.”
Ghost considered the psychologist. “Suggestions?”
“Can I assume you’re not going to give her up without a fight?”
Give her up? It’d be a cold day in hell. “I love her; what do you think?”
“Excellent.” Z gave him a
faint smile. “However, I can understand how she would have difficulty arriving at a reasonable decision if you’re present. She probably can’t see past an either-or solution.”
Meaning she could have Ghost or her children, not both. “Roger that.”
“I suggest we find a couple of people who understand what she’s going through and can help her see a way out of the trap.”
What she was going through? Her children had turned on her. Such a mess couldn’t be common. No one he knew…
Ghost stopped walking. “I know someone.”
Ghost had once told Valerie that in the military, he’d go running any time his emotions started to slip out of control.
Since her emotions had passed uncontrolled and were headed straight for meltdown, she donned her jogging outfit.
In the first few minutes of running, her legs didn’t feel as if they belonged to her. As if she wasn’t even in her body.
As her blood warmed, her heart and lungs and muscles started to work together.
By the time she’d reached a mile and turned back, the pandemonium in her head had cleared, leaving peace behind.
She ran harder. Her shirt clung to her as sweat trickled down her back and dampened her sports bra. Her shoes slapped the trail with a mesmerizing rhythm.
Suddenly, a vagrant darted out of the bushes to block her way. “I need cash, lady. Gimme cash.”
He’d shattered her brief period of tranquility—and rage engulfed her in a wave of heat. “Seriously?” Her voice rose to a shout. “Get out of my way, or I’ll decimate you.”
“Jesus, lady.” He backed away so hurriedly he fell on his ass.
And she ran on.
She’d won.
That battle.
But she was in another fight—a war with her ex-husband she hadn’t even realized was happening.
The thought eroded her mood until, by the time she reached her apartment, she was fighting back tears—and fury. Again.
How could Dillon have spoken to her like that? How could Hailey have threatened to keep her from her grandson?
The Effing List Page 34