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“Oh.”
After a few minutes, he asks, “So Raymond raised you himself, huh?”
I pause, before saying, “Well, no. His wife, Aunt Angela, she raised me as well. They had a daughter who was two years younger than me.” My heart tightens. “They died in a car crash when I was around eleven.” Thinking of Suzie with her laughing eyes as she chased after me and the endless hours that we played hide and seek, my throat swells a bit. “They were lovely, both of them. Aunty Ange loved me as her own, and when there were thunderstorms, Suzie would climb into bed with me because we both used to be scared of thunder.”
Losing those two had been like losing my mother all over again.
The grief is so tangible I can almost taste it.
“My mother died two years ago,” Jace admits suddenly, and
I look up.
He’s wearing a tired expression on his face. “The pain never truly goes away. It’s okay to grieve sometimes even if a lot of time has passed.”
I bite my lower lip, trying not to let the hot tears that are burning my eyes fall. My gaze is lowered.
Jace doesn’t say anything else.
Then something hits me and I ask, “So, wait, Kendall also—”
“Kendall and I share a father.” There is discomfort on his face. “I’m a year younger than her.”
The implication in his words hit me. Their father had an affair!
Reading my mind, Jace says, “Kendall’s father was married to her mother. My mother and he had a brief affair but our father, he still took responsibility for me. He wasn’t a bad man but he was a weak one.”
“Do you miss him?” I ask, hesitantly.
“Sure.” He shrugs. “Occasionally. I don’t remember him that much.”
I fall silent, sorting through my own memories and emotions. After a few long minutes, I say, “I remember my mom a little bit. I know she loved me. I know she had curly red hair, which never seemed to end, and she used to laugh a lot. All the memories I have of her are of her laughing. It was as if she was always happy. The day she took me and ran away, I don’t remember anything from that day or that week. I don’t even know who we ran away from. All I remember is that I was in a parking lot, alone, and it was raining. And a policeman found me. I was holding a stuffed bear my mom had made me.” My eyes mist at the memory of that, which is vivid in my mind. “I remember that he brought me to the police station and then Uncle Raymond came to pick me up. He hugged me as he cried and cried. It was as if he didn’t know how to stop crying. And then Aunty Ange took me home. She gave me a bath, fed me, and then got into bed with me. She slept with me for a whole week.”
“She must have been grief-stricken as well,” Jace murmurs. “Your mother was important to a lot of people.”
I sigh. “Yeah.” Having a heart to heart with my boss hadn’t been on the agenda today, but I feel like I’ve misjudged the man. The image I had of him in my head is morphing into something else.
We sit together in comfortable silence for a while before Jace says, “We should get back now.”
I jump to my feet, feeling much better. This day has been a long and emotionally draining one. I just want to go home, take a long bath, curl up in a blanket, and watch mind-numbing come
dies.
But I follow Jace back, my eyes on his back.
He’s got a narrow waist and I recall his body in that tank top I saw him wearing at the gym, the first day I had met him. He is really hot.
I can’t imagine a girl sleeping with him though.
I try to do it and all I can see is him frowning at her and correcting her moves.
Snickering at the mental imagery, I sense Jace’s eyes on me, and I try my best to look innocent.
He gives me a small smile, it’s barely a flicker.
I feel my heart stop. The guy is gorgeous when he smiles.
What the hell?
