Page 65 of Wild Promise

My fingers ran through her hair, and I kissed the top of her head. “Mrs. Walker and her husband?”

“They had fifty-three years together.” She pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt over her hands. “She told me she still sets two places at the table sometimes. Out of habit. Then she sits there and eats alone.”

Fuck. “Yeah, she’s mentioned that to me before.”

“Can you imagine being with someone that long? To have built something so real that even after they’re gone, the habit of them is still there?” She turned her face up to look at me, and the firelight caught the shine in her eyes.

Sitting here with her curves pressed against me, her warmth soaking into my side, I could imagine it. A lifetime of this. Every empty part of me filled. All her worries set aside.

But fuck, how would it ever be possible if we had to keep hiding our relationship? Whatever it was.

“My parents had that,” she whispered. “Before Mom got sick. They were best friends. Dad still talks to her sometimes, when he thinks no one’s listening.”

I tightened my hold on her and pressed my lips to her temple, because I didn’t know what to say to that. My parents didn’t even have a version of it. Not a shitty one. Not a broken one. Just nothing.

“What about your parents?” she asked, like she could read exactly where my mind had wandered. “You don’t talk about them much.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” My voice was thick, and the room was suddenly too fucking warm. I slipped my arm from around her and leaned forward, elbows on my knees, my head swimming and pulse doing stupid things for no reason.

Where the hell was I supposed to start?

“My parents were never together,” I said, pushing past the discomfort. “Not in any real way. My mom was twenty-two when she had me. My dad was nearly forty, already running his company. I don’t think he ever planned on having a kid, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t either. I just kind of happened.”

Melina’s hand found my back and began tracing slow, comforting circles. One simple touch and I was steadier—my pulse slowing, my breath coming easier, and the words just a little easier to find.

“Mom stuck by me when I was little, but the older I got, the less she was around. She’d show up for a few weeks, sometimes a month or two, play the role, and then disappear again. I never knew when she was coming or going, so I just stopped expecting her to stay.” I swallowed hard. “She’s still like that. Drifts in and out. I haven’t seen her in person in almost four years.”

“Zane…I’m so sorry.” The word she once hated now came without hesitation. “You must really miss her.”

“Can’t miss what I never really had.” But fuck, that was bullshit. I’d missed it every day of my life. Even when my mom was with me, I could feel her absence looming over every minute. “But at least she’s still out there somewhere. You lost your mom completely.”

“Hey.” Her hand stilled against my back. “You’re allowed to have feelings about it. Having a mother who chose to leave isn’t any easier than having one who didn’t get a choice. It’s just a different kind of hurt.”

My jaw clenched, and I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“What about your dad?”

I tugged at my collar and tried to find the words for the part of my life I never really talked about. Not with Nate. Not with Colin. Not even with Uncle Glenn, though I suspected he already knew more than he let on.

“He’s in New York, running his empire. I used to visit him a couple of times a year. I’d stay at his penthouse, tag along to the odd dinner party, pretend we were a normal father and son.” I shrugged. “He’d schedule it like a business trip. Two weeks in the summer, a few days at Christmas. Always on his terms.”

Melina’s hand slid from my back to my arm, both hands wrapping around my biceps and holding on tight.

“Last time I went, I was fourteen. He brought me to the office to show me around. Introduce me to people. I think he wanted me to be impressed.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “He got pulled into a meeting after twenty minutes and left me sitting in a conference room for the rest of the day. Nobody came to check on me. Nobody even knew I was there. I sat in that room for six hours before his assistant walked in and realized I’d been forgotten.”

She didn’t say anything, but the hitch in her breath and the way her fingers tightened on my arm was enough.

“He’s never been a father. Not in any way that counts. He just sends money. A trust fund I never asked for, a monthly deposit that shows up whether I want it or not. I tried to stop it when I was eighteen, but it’s set up so I can’t touch the structure, only the cash.” I stared at the fire. “This house was bought with his money. And every time I walk through the front door, part of me feels sick about it.”

“Why?”

“Because those visits with him…I heard things. Late at night, when he thought I was asleep. Phone calls that didn’t sound right. People showing up at strange hours. Conversations about making problems go away.” My voice dropped. “When I was a kid, I didn’t know what any of it meant. But I’m not a kid anymore, and the pieces fit together in ways that make my stomach turn. The things he’s involved in…they’re not just corrupt, they’re criminal.”

“And he still wants you to be part of it?”

“He calls every few months to remind me the offer’s open. Corner office, six figures, a seat at the table. All I have to do is look the other way.”

“And you keep saying no.”