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“I knew how much it meant to you. I hoped you’d be strong enough to stand up to him.”
She couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. Wood had adored Peter. Given him everything. Supported him in every endeavor.
“My brother did many good things in his life,” Wood said. “He worked hard. He felt true compassion. He was gentle. And he also, always, put himself first. It’s just the way it was, from the time he was born. Peter only saw the world around him if his own needs had been met—and if the viewing device met his needs.”
Now that she understood. Completely. Peter putting himself first. And only seeing the world, situations, her, from his own perspective.
“Being a doctor was perfect for him,” Wood continued. “He could learn the science. Master the skill. The job was important. Respected. He’d be in charge. All things that made him feel good about himself. And because he felt good about himself, he made a great intern and resident. Because his compassion was genuine. He did care. But he had to come first.”
Always.
In everything.
“I think you had to live with him to really see that.” She could barely speak through the lump in her throat. Felt as though she was a ghost, right there with her deceased husband. And yet, felt alive, too. More than she had in a very long time. She was breaking free from Peter’s manipulation.
Wood didn’t respond. He’d never been a man of many words.
“He never encouraged you to reach for your own dreams,” she said. It was the one thing she could see clearly. The way Peter had minimized Wood—Peter had done the same to her. She realized that now. But it had been so much harder for her to see.
“You did encourage me,” Wood said. She was so glad he understood that—glad they’d had the conversation they had about it one day, shortly after he and Cassie had been married.
“I love him still,” she said, needing total honesty. She’d never be completely free of the guilt. And probably shouldn’t be. It gave her greater understanding. Greater compassion. A need to look at life from perspectives other than her own.
“I know. Me, too.”
“And he loved us.”
“Absolutely.”
She took a deep, shaky breath. Let it out, her hands shaping Marisol. Guarding and protecting her.
“It’s time to set yourself free, sis.”
Her eyes filled again at the nickname he used to call her, back when Peter had been alive.
“I never want to lose you as family.”
And that was the only reason she’d wanted to have Peter’s baby. The truth was bald. Not pretty.
“That’s up to you. I signed on as your brother for life when I witnessed your marriage to Peter. You know that. Cassie knew it, too, before we agreed to marry. She loves you.”
She nodded.
“Okay, well, I’m going to go...”
That was so Wood. He’d say what he had to say and head out. And she loved him so much like the brother he would always be.
“Tell Greg I’ll be a little while longer?”
“Yep.” With a nod, and a tap to her shoulder, he walked back the way he’d come.
Taking the ghost she’d been with him.
* * *
Greg stood directly under the shower spray, water sluicing over his head, to his shoulders and down his body, when he thought he heard something in the other room. With a quick glance, he noted Beldon was right where he’d left him, lying just outside the shower door.
Thinking the dog had left the room and come back, he turned his back, closed his eyes, lifted his face and continued to allow himself to soak up one of the sensual pleasures he was at liberty to enjoy. Warm water pounding down on naked skin. Relaxing muscles that were far too tense after every workshop venture. He enjoyed the activity. Even more than he’d figured he might. But Marisol’s crib...he wouldn’t accept even the most minor flaw...
