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With effort, she managed to sound calm. Professional. “With all due respect, Loucas, it is literally my business. My job is to help Andrew. If you have a problem with my treatment, then you can either tell me why, or butt out.”
His shoulders appeared to slump infinitesimally. He was quiet for so long that Mikey wondered if he was waiting for her to go. She stood there, feeling increasingly idiotic, the longer the silence lasted. Finally, he propped one shoulder against the wall. Keeping his head angled towards the storm outside, he spoke. His voice was thick with feeling. “Helena and Chad were a mistake. I thought it then, and I know it for damned sure now. If he hadn’t married her… she’d still be here.”
Mikey felt a deep pain for this man. He seemed to carry the weight of the world effortlessly upon his shoulders, but of course there was a breaking point. No one could suffer such grief and loss indefinitely without finding a way to vent those emotions. It was like trying to dam a waterfall with a match stick. Impossible.
She wanted to point out to him that without Helena and Chad’s union, there would be no Andrew. She didn’t, though. He knew the facts. She didn’t. She needed to understand what had happened. “Why didn’t you think their relationship was a good idea?”
He turned around now, fixing her with the full intensity of his stare. It hit her like a freight train between the eyes. “Because, Mikey, he was a useless philanderer. Helena thought he walked on water. She refused to listen to the truth. When I told her that he’d been having affairs, she laughed. Said I wouldn’t understand, because I couldn’t understand love.” He scowled. “We… argued. It was the last time I ever saw her.”
Mikey’s heart turned over in her chest. “How long ago was that?”
“Before their wedding.”
“Five years. That’s a long time.” She said quietly.
“Thank you for stating the obvious,” he drawled condescendingly, turning his gaze on her.
The hold she had on her own fragile emotional state was wearing thin. She caught a frayed edge and held it tight. “Did you ever try to set things right?”
His expression showed pain. “No.”
“Not once?”
“No.”
“Did she?”
He looked away. A muscle stretched in his jaw. “Yes. She sent me photos of the boy. Emails about him. I never replied.”
And though a large part of her wanted to shake him, pity and sorrow for his implacable resentment and the decisions it had led him to make, won out. Without even realising it, she was walking towards him. Her eyes were locked on his face, willing him to turn around. He did, at the last minute. “You have to let that go.”
He shook his head. “How can I?”
She told herself it was just how she would treat any patient suffering from grief. She reached up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Loucas, Helena clearly loved you, and forgave you. She adored Andrew, and chose you, of all people, to raise him in her stead.”
He grunted, unconvinced.
“I have met the Washington family,” she persisted. “Chad’s parents are youthful yet retired, and kind. They would have been excellent guardians for Andrew. But Helena chose you.” Mikey resisted the urge to press her finger into his chest. “She sent you emails about her son because she knew one day you would regret missing out on his early years. I’m sure she knew that you had only her best interests at heart when you quarrelled.”
He shrugged her arm away. “Oh, you’re sure, are you?” He demanded, his tone laced with poisonous insult. “Because you’re such an expert on my
sister, of course. Or, wait, no. That’s wrong. Maybe you’re a mind reader? Maybe that’s how you profess to know so much about her, and me, and our damned family.”
Mikey stepped back as though she’d been stung. “I only meant…”
“Get out,” he muttered, not meeting her eyes. “Just go now, Mikey.”
Her heart was racing and her eyes were burning with the threat of tears. She lifted a hand to her throat, covering the pulse point that was racing so fast it must be visible. Her personal instinct was to run, but as a psychologist, she knew she had to get through to him. Having acknowledged the depths of his feelings, he simply had to begin to understand them.
“You have to forgive yourself,” she whispered, though she knew she could never forgive him. He had been right, when he’d said he would hurt her. His hurtful tongue had lashed her and she felt the wounds oozing pain.
“Forgive myself? You misunderstand me completely, Mikey.” His lips curved into a small, twisted smile. More of a snarl. “I acted in the only way I could. I acted to protect my sister. I am angry with her, even now, that she did not pay attention to my warnings.”
“She was in love, Loucas,” Mikey ventured cautiously.
“Oh, yes,” he agreed forcefully. “She was in love. She was in love with a construct. An image of the man she wished Chad Washington to be. Helena refused to see who he really was.”
“But you knew him so well?” She couldn’t help asking, scepticism obvious in her tone.
