He, Hunter, and Amy were standing in the foyer. That was as far as she would let either of them in the house, and it had taken some cajoling from Daniel to get her to agree to that. “Brittany,” he said, and saw Hunter’s head jerk up. The guy had been texting her since they walked inside.
“Is she okay?” Hunter said quickly.
And in Daniel’s opinion, with great concern. He believed the young man when he said he cared about her. “Yes—”
“She called you and not me?” Amy threw up her hands. “I don’t understand. What have you done to her?”
“Amy, just listen—”
She marched farther into the house.
Hunter frowned, clearly confused. As he should be. Amy wasn’t making sense.
“I’ll be back.” Daniel fortified himself and went after her. He found her in the living room, her hands covering her face as she sobbed. His heart tore in two. Her pain was his fault—again. Butinstead of running away from the shame of constantly hurting her, the way he’d done during their entire marriage, he stood his ground. “Amy.”
She lifted her face, her expression shooting daggers at him. She hadn’t taken her makeup off from the party. Her hair was a mess, mascara streamed down her face, she was over twenty years older than the last time he’d seen her... and she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered.
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” He wanted to go to her, but it would be a bad move. So he stayed put. “Brittany wanted to tell you herself at the right time.”
“There would never be a right time.” Amy ran her forearm under her nose, her eyes never leaving his. “How did you weasel your way back into her life?”
“I sent her an email.”
“Oh, please. It couldn’t have been that simple. You abandoned her, Daniel. Not just when we divorced, but soon after she was born. You chose booze over her. Over both of us.”
“I know.” His throat caught. “I think about my mistakes every single day.”
“And I don’t care.” She straightened, staring at him in her uniquely defiant way. “If you think I’m going to let you hurt her again—”
“I won’t. I’m sober, Amy. I have been for seven years.”
“Sure. Like I’m going to believe that.”
“That young man in there?” He gestured toward the foyer with his thumb. “That’s Hunter Pickett. His father is Arthur Pickett, one of the premiere lawyers in the country.”
“I know who he is.”
Daniel waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “Arthur’s my boss. I’m his chauffeur.”
Amy let out a bitter chuckle. “He has horrible instincts then.”
“No, he knows me very well. He was my lawyer when I went to prison.”
She stilled. “Prison?”
“Seven years ago in Fort Worth. Drunk driving, third offense, BAC over .15.” He rattled off the stats as if he were stating the weather forecast. But inside he was a swirl of shame, regret, and remorse, as he had been since the day he’d been arrested. “Arthur took my case pro bono. Not because he knew me. It was the luck of the draw... and I was very lucky. In more ways than one.”
“You’re a criminal on top of everything else.” But Amy’s tone didn’t hold quite the same amount of venom.
“Arthur got the sentence down to two years, and it was enough for me to hit rock bottom and dry out. I went to AA meetings in prison. Met with the chaplain twice a week, more if he was available. Did my time with perfect behavior, and when I got out, I worked on rebuilding my life. That’s when Arthur entered it again. He met with me and offered me a job.” He stared at the floor. “I still don’t know why. All he said was that people deserve second chances.”
“I gave you so many more than that.” She turned to him, fresh tears in her eyes. “Over and over, I forgave you, I believed your promises, I pretended that everything was fine. Until I couldn’t do it anymore.”
“I know. And you gave me more than I deserved.” His throat burned. “I’m sorry for what I did to you and Brittany. I want to make up for it. That’s why I came back.”
“I don’t want your apologies, Daniel.” She composed herself. “I don’t want you in my life or in Britt’s. You ran out of chances a long time ago.”
***
