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‘That’s no excuse. I should have realised.’
The helicopter changed direction, so that the ocean gave way to verdant land far below.
‘By the time I saw what was happening, he was so far gone. It took years to convince him to go to rehab, and in the end I had to let him hit rock-bottom before he finally got there. You cannot imagine what that was like, Beatrice. Watching him self-destruct, knowing there was only so much I could do.’
Her throat shifted as she swallowed. Strangely, he didn’t mind the sympathy on her face now.
‘I could only keep him safe,’ Ares admitted gruffly. ‘I hired security to guard his house—and him—so that at least he was watched.’ He shook his head angrily. ‘They called me one morning when he wouldn’t wake up. He’d come this close to an overdose.’ He pinched his finger and thumb together.
‘That’s horrible,’ she whispered.
He nodded. ‘He spent two nights in hospital and then he chose to go to rehab. He begged me for help. I’ve never been gladder than I was in that moment.’ He grimaced, because that happiness hadn’t lasted long. As so often in life, a downfall had already begun to approach. ‘He got sober, and turned his life around. He started an investment firm which did incredibly well, then met Ingrid and fell in love.’ Ares’s expression had assumed a faraway look and Bea knew that, though he was speaking aloud, he was really recounting the facts to himself, going over them as if he could make better sense of them somehow. ‘Their wedding day was one of the happiest of my life. To know how far he’d come, to see the hope on his face, the love in his eyes... I felt...such immense relief, as though finally everything was going to be okay.’
‘And then Ingrid died,’ Bea said softly.
He lifted his eyes to her face, torment in his features. ‘Yes. Ingrid died and my brother was left with a black hole of grief and a tiny, dependent child. I should have done more. I should have—’
Bea made a frustrated sound and leaned as far forward as she could, putting a hand on his thigh to draw his attention fully. ‘You can’t blame yourself for this.’
‘Can’t I?’ he asked quietly, his voice still ringing with self-condemnation. ‘I’d seen what he’d been through before. I’d seen my mother grapple with her demons for years. I knew how desperately he needed to blot out the pain. I should have done more to help him.’
‘What more could you have done?’ she asked logically.
Ares stared at her.
‘He’s a grown man. Your job isn’t to live Matthaios’s life for him, Ares. It sounds to me like you’ve done the best you can for your brother all your life, and you’re still doing that now.’
‘You don’t understand. I should have seen what was coming. I should have predicted he’d turn back to drugs. I should have—’
‘Kidnapped him to your mansion for all eternity?’ she couldn’t help teasing, despite the serious tenor of their conversation.
His eyes flared, showing surprise at her quip.
‘You couldn’t chain him up until his grief passed. And you couldn’t watch him twenty-four hours a day. Did you support him, Ares? Did you call to check on him? Ask how he was, how the baby was?’
His face paled. ‘I spent a month with him, after her death. Then I had dinner with him several times a week. I hired security, as before, to keep them both safe. I hired nannies—he fired them. But still I thought he was doing well, given the circumstances. He seemed heartbroken but well, at the same time. I looked for signs of addiction. I checked his house when he was occupied with Danica, and I called at unusual times, wondering if I would detect something in his voice that spoke of drug use or alcohol abuse. I detected nothing. I missed the signs.’
‘Or maybe he was holding it together and then something happened and he had a bad few nights. Or maybe he was just that good at hiding his behaviour from you...’ She paused, frustrated that he couldn’t see how much help and support he’d offered. ‘But look at what you’ve done for him now. He’s getting treatment and help, and you’ve stepped in to care for Danica, so that when he comes out his beautiful baby will be waiting for him. If you hadn’t done that she would have ended up in foster care, Ares. Do you have any idea what that would have meant? It would have been far from guaranteed that Matthaios would be able to take Danica back when he was ready. You’ve given him a second chance to be a father—that’s something to be proud of.’
His gaze shifted to her hand, still on his thigh, and he looked at it for so long that her fingers began to tingle and warm. She was about to retract it when his own hand came down on hers, keeping it right where it was.
‘You were adopted.’
The statement shattered something inside her. A shame Bea worked hard to rationalise away burst through her at the unexpectedness of his words, a shame that came from knowing how unwanted she was: by her birth parents first, by her adoptive parents ultimately. A sour taste flooded her mouth and she went to pull her hand away again, but he held on tightly, his eyes loaded with warning when they met hers. Under his intense scrutiny her pulse began to go haywire.
‘So?’ Her voice shook with defiance, dredged from deep within her soul. She didn’t need anyone to love her; what did it matter that she’d been rejected by all the people who were meant to love her most? She’d worked herself into the ground to build her career, and she had Amy and Clare.
‘I just wondered if you’re speaking from experience.’
Her breath evacuated her lungs on one huge whoosh. ‘No.’
She pulled away then and he let her. Bea tried to ignore the coldness spreading inside, and the fear that he was seeing more of her than she wanted him to—more than she’d ever let anyone see. To the world, Bea was an in-control lawyer, intelligent, bright and driven. No one needed to know the gaping wounds that existed in her heart, the feeling that there must be something inherently wrong with her to have been rejected so consistently. Her secret fear—that no one would ever love her or want her enough—was just beneath the surface, though.
She wouldn’t let Ares know how broken she was inside. For some reason he was the last person she wanted to see beyond her façade.
