“Then you’ll have to take steps to make sure that you are welcome, won’t you? Because once you and I are openly married, my family will also be your family.”
The way he almost physically recoiled from that statement made a light flash in her head. “That’s the real reason you don’t want to tell them, isn’t it? Because having my family know about us means they’ll become a part of your life, too. You’re doing everything you can to prevent that.”
“I didn’t marry your family. I married you.”
She shook her head. “That’s the most naive thing you’ve said yet. My family is a part of me.”
“Looks to me like your family causes you more pain than pleasure,” he muttered. “They put so much pressure on you that you’re always on edge after spending time with them. They criticize your choices. You couldn’t even tell anyone about us because you didn’t want to deal with their reactions.”
“I still think it would have been the wrong time to tell them while Mother was in the initial stages of recovery from her stroke, but I should have told them since. I suppose I was being a coward.”
She surged on before he could respond. “My parents aren’t perfect, Liam. They make mistakes. But they are my family and I love them.”
He cleared his throat. “I can understand that. Hell, I was fond of my dad, and he was no one’s idea of a great father.”
Sadness made her heart feel even heavier. Did Liam really think she would ever be content to have the same sort of distant, coolly civil relationship with her parents that he’d had with his father? “I thought you understood from the beginning that I would always be close to my family.”
He pressed a hand to his stomach, as if this argument escalated the discomfort he’d mentioned earlier. “You said when you married me that you were making a choice. That you chose me over their expectations for you.”
“And I did. But that doesn’t mean I chose to cut them from my life. Despite dreading the initial confrontations, I always assumed they would come around eventually. That they would concede my choice of a mate and accept you into the family. But that’s not what you had in mind at all, is it?”
“I guess I just didn’t think that far ahead,” he muttered. “You and I get along pretty well on our own. We don’t need their interference.”
“So you really do see it as a competition,” she whispered. “You always have, haven’t you? You want me to choose between you and my family.”
He met her eyes from across the room without saying anything. His silence, she supposed, was an answer in itself.
She shook her head slowly. “You know what, Liam? I always believed I was the cowardly one, always worrying about failing or disappointing someone or not living up to my potential. I thought you were fearless. Nothing seemed too risky or impossible for you. You wanted something and you went after it, simple as that. I always admired you for that courage—but it worried me, too. I was afraid you would get tired of dealing with my fears. That you deserved someone as reckless and self-confident as you are.”
She held up a hand when he started to speak, her heart pounding as she faced him in anger and pain. “I’ve come to realize lately that you aren’t nearly as brave as I always thought you were. All those times you took off on your world travels? Were you really chasing adventures—or were you really running away from potential problems? My family, your own past, a real commitment to this marriage you rushed us into. Why did you marry me, Liam? And why do you stay married to me when you don’t want to deal with everything that comes with me?”
He started to answer, then fell silent, his face pale and grim as he continued to knead his taut stomach. “This really isn’t the time to get into all of that,” he said after a tense pause. “We’re both tired, and we’re likely to say things we don’t mean. I’ll head back to New York so you can concentrate on your studies for now, and we’ll deal with all of this after your Step 1 exam.”
She wondered if it were possible to hurt any worse than she did at that moment.
“You want me to study? Fine. I’ll study. That should make both you and my father happy!”
Leaving him wincing, she stormed into the office and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter Eleven
The Little Rock airport was nearly deserted at 4:00 a.m. Thursday. Most of the other early arrivals wandered through the glass doors looking sleepy and a little grumpy. The recorded messages were entirely too cheery that early in the morning, earning more than a couple of scowls in the general direction of the speakers. The glare of fluorescent lights was harsh against the predawn darkness outside.
Liam sat on a padded bench, trying to get up the energy to check his bags. There were no lines yet at the security checkpoints, so it wouldn’t take long to pass through and find his departure gate. He assumed he could get a cup of coffee somewhere on the way.
His aching stomach rebelled at the very thought.
He wasn’t sure what hurt the most. His stomach or his chest. And he wasn’t sure he couldn’t blame both pains on the way he had left Anne.
She hadn’t gotten up when he’d slipped out after a sleepless few hours on her couch. He didn’t know if she’d awakened with his movements or not, but if so, she hadn’t said anything. He doubted that she’d had an easy time falling asleep last night; he hoped she’d manage to rest enough to get her through her classes that day.
Heaving a sigh, he reached for the handle of his suitcase, then sat back again when nausea roiled deep inside him. Damn it, he didn’t need this now. He felt bad enough about the quarrel he’d had with Anne. Did he really need this stomach virus or whatever it was to make him feel even worse?
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face with it. He wasn’t overheated, but he felt a little sweaty. Guilty?
He scowled when the word popped into his mind. Why should he feel guilty? Despite Anne’s accusations, he had made the decision to leave based on what was best for her, not for himself. He was trying to reduce her stress level, not add to it. He still shuddered whenever he thought of how close they had come to walking straight into her parents at dinner yesterday. She could deny it all she wanted, but he knew she’d have been horrified had her family found out about them that way.
He wanted to blame the pressure she was under for their quarrel the night before. Apparently, her study group had dealt with some sort of crisis last night and she’d still been stinging when she’d returned home, which perhaps explained her overreaction when she had seen his bags by the bed. Having her father call in the middle of the conversation certainly hadn’t helped anything. No matter what Anne said, talking to her father always left her edgy and tense.