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It made me angry with myself, and with her.
What the hell is she doing here?
“Why is she here?”
“Because your mother invited her,” Clayton said, a little sternly. Like everyone else, he was wrapped around Allie’s finger. They all loved her. They couldn’t imagine why I had let her go.
They had no idea.
Allie wasn’t capable of placing anyone on the same level of importance as her precious career and commitments.
Yet, she was here.
“Will you be joining them?” Clayton gave me a pointed look, still holding my coat as if he expected me to take it from him and stomp out of the house.
“Yes, for heaven’s sake.” I didn’t bother to wipe the scowl off my face as I strode into the living room. My mother and Allie were seated on the sofa, their heads bent over what seemed to be a photo album.
My mother looked up as I entered, her beautiful features appearing almost fragile. Her eyes were red-rimmed with the tears she must have been crying in my absence.
“Braden,” she said quietly.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” I replied, trying not at look at Allie. It was impossible not to be aware of her. She was beautiful, vibrant, radiant, and she filled the room with her essence like the star she was.
“I’m holding up,” my mother said, a small, sad smile hovering on her lips. “I was just showing Allison some pictures.”
I felt Allie’s eyes on my face. It was like heat and softness at the same time…like a phys
ical touch.
“Hello Braden,” she said.
Her voice dragged my gaze to her face, and I almost turned and walked out of the room right then, just because of how much even the sight of her could shake me up inside. She pulled at my heart. She tore at my soul.
Whatever you want.
The words still hurt.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, injecting ease into my voice that I didn’t feel. What I really wanted to say was I don’t want you here.
“Your father loved Allison. He’d have wanted her here.” My mother closed the photo-album and gave me a chastising look. “She’s been a blessing to me since she arrived yesterday. While you’re busy with making all the arrangements, she is giving me the company I need.”
“You could have asked Aunt Corinne,” I said ungraciously.
My mother snorted. “Don’t be silly, Braden.”
Allie rose to her feet, facing me. She was dressed in a dark green dress that was very simply cut yet couldn’t hide the beautiful figure beneath. I had a lot on my mind—grief, concern for my mother, a funeral—yet at that moment I wanted to drag her from the room and bury myself in her body.
Maybe she saw my desire in my eyes because she looked away hastily and turned to my mother. “I’ll go catch up with Clayton while you two talk about tomorrow,” she said softly.
I watched her walk away, still trying to keep my desire in check.
“You never should have let her go,” my mother said softly once the door closed behind Allie.
“She let me go.”
My mother waved a dismissive hand. “You didn’t fight for her.”
I bit back a bitter retort. She was right, in many ways. Over the past year, I’d spent many lonely nights beating myself up about the things I should have done or said to convince Allie to make our marriage a priority.
