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Memories of his childhood swirled in his mind. Perhaps it was because of the children he’d so enjoyed entertaining. Maybe it was this house, that reminded him of their family estate.
Whatever it was, it had him on edge. He was certain it was because his own son’s arrival was imminent. Being a father was still a terrifying prospect. His father had provided for them and given them everything except what they’d needed emotionally.
Today when he’d played with the kids, it had felt so good. He’d loved every minute, and when they’d tired they both run to their father, who had scooped them up and held them until they’d fallen asleep.
Matt didn’t have a single memory like that, not of himself or Sarah. There hadn’t been any loving words or hugs. A solitary pat on the back was what he’d got when he’d graduated with first class honours, a singular moment of pride.
Most of the time his father hadn’t really interacted with them at all. He’d been far too busy with his job, stocks or society. Taylors didn’t just have, they earned. There was no nobility in their blood, just hard work. But, surely even if his father had worked hard, he could have spared a few minutes each day for his children or at the very least, for Sarah? Matt had never felt loved by his father. In fact, his disappointment in Matt was all Matt had been sure of. So why did he feel so guilty for hating his childhood? For not wanting to subject his son to that?
Matt had seen those couples today, parents married for years, and he’d been able to see their love. Had seen it when they’d looked at their kids, as if they were the physical embodiment of it. How was he going to provide a loving home for his son? Each memory of his childhood was a splinter under his fingernail, making him worry he would cause his son the same unhappiness.
Neither he nor Sarah had ever wanted to visit their parents, who’d done what they’d needed to in order to be successful. To show off the perfect marriage, perfect family and perfect children. So. Damn. Fake. Maybe that was why he hated it so much when those women who wanted nothing but his power and fortune threw themselves at him. It was all fake, not a real emotion in sight. They wanted something to make them look good, something they could benefit from.
Matt squeezed his eyes shut. Was it wrong to go ahead with his plan, knowing that he and Hannah weren’t in love, even if everything about her drove him crazy? Then again, how could he not? He didn’t want to repeat his parents’ mistakes but their duty to their child superseded everything, surely? After all, he’d turned out just fine without love.
He dropped his head, running his fingers through his hair, fisting the strands until it hurt.
‘Matt?’
The soft call came from behind him. Hannah...Hannah was real. Their chemistry was real. She wasn’t even wearing her mask today. She was herself—his Hannah.
He loosened his grip and turned around, schooling his face into a neutral expression, despite fraying at the edges. Coming apart.
Her eyes softened and he watched her slowly step towards him, but he turned away. He felt her when she stood by his side.
‘Are you okay?’ Hannah asked.
He hazarded a quick glance at her, could see concern shining in her eyes and had to look away. No, he wasn’t okay, but he wasn’t about to display that vulnerability. He couldn’t do it. He could feel a muscle ticking in his jaw. Control couldn’t abandon him now. Not when it was his closest ally.
‘Fine.’
Hannah touched his cheek and he leaned into it, his brittle control disappearing like a wisp of smoke.
‘You don’t have to say that if you aren’t.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Matt was certain his concerns weren’t written on his face, and his first instinct was to put up his guard.
‘Everyone is leaving. Your sister is inside and you’re out here all by yourself. You can talk to me,’ Hannah said gently.
‘I don’t need to talk.’
He felt the loss immediately when she removed her hand, turning back towards the railing. ‘You do,’ she said softly. ‘Your emotions aren’t a weakness; they don’t have to be hidden from the people you trust.’
‘What would you know of it?’ He growled.
‘What I know is that someone who shines as brightly as you do, feels as deeply as you, shouldn’t ever have to hide that away.’ She turned to him then, fire in her eyes. ‘Regardless of who told you that you need to.’
‘Hannah...’ Matt warned. He had seen her talking to his sister, relieved that they seemed to like each other from the moment they’d met. Now he wondered exactly what Sarah had said.
‘Why do you want to hide what you’re feeling?’
‘Because the past has no bearing on what we’re doing.’
‘That’s not true. Your parents—’
‘I had a mother who loved us and a father who provided for us.’
‘And was that all you wanted?’ Hannah asked patiently.
