The answer to that was easy. “I got caught.”
He groaned. “What did your mother do?”
She let out a laugh. “Not by my mother. A t
eacher walked into the school bathroom looking for someone. When I came out, she was waiting. She asked if I wanted to go to the nurse and call home because I was sick. Once again, my emotions got the best of me, and I burst into tears and revealed everything. She was so kind and wanted to help. She took me to the school psychologist.”
His arms were locked around her, her head on his chest, and she found comfort in the steady beat of his heart. “I was so lucky that I found someone who really understood. And because she cared, I really wanted to please her. I wanted to get better, to like me.”
“Did your mother know about your issues?”
“The psychologist tried to talk to her. She just said I was using any excuse to eat or get attention.” She shrugged. “We had to work around her.”
“What about your dad? I want to ask if he stood up for you, but given all you’ve told me—”
She shook her head and confirmed his thoughts. “Dad’s a good guy, but Mom runs the show. She wears the pants, says jump, and he asks how high.”
“I should give him a lesson or two in taking control of women.”
She grinned, that thought lightening the moment. “Yeah, can we not talk about my father and … that?”
He laughed and agreed.
Her heart pounded hard in her chest, as if she’d run hard and fast and now needed to come down from the rush. To her amazement, she’d bared her soul. And he was still here, not judging. She was grateful to Decklan for that—and so much more.
Decklan didn’t know how he managed to laugh after hearing about the childhood Amanda had endured. What a mess. The people who were supposed to love and protect her hadn’t. She’d had no experience with a father figure who taught her about her own self-worth. Not like Lucy, who’d had a father who thought she hung the moon and the stars, Decklan thought.
No wonder Amanda responded to dominance like someone starved for guidance and affection. He couldn’t help but marvel at her strength in coping and overcoming. Finally, all the pieces of the puzzle that was Amanda fell into place.
“Just know you deserved better,” he said, wrapping one hand around the back of her neck, tipping her head, and pulling her in for a deep kiss. One that told her she was most definitely wanted, needed … and most definitely loved.
Yeah, he was feeling the emotion. He didn’t need a dictionary to spell it out for him. Nor did he intend to do so for Amanda. For one thing, he needed time to adjust to the heady emotions and what went along with them. Not to mention the absolute stark fear that he could wake up one day and she’d be gone. After all, he’d experienced it for himself once before.
THIRTEEN
One month passed, during which Amanda felt like she was living a dream. One she’d never allowed herself to have. During the week, she performed a job she loved, scheduling conferences for Brad, handling his daily affairs, and joking with her best friend. And on the weekends, she saw Decklan. Either he flew to D.C. or she traveled to New York. They fell into a routine, one she was beginning to believe could last—if she could delicately extricate herself from Brad’s life.
She didn’t know how he’d feel about them breaking up and him having to dodge his father’s requests that he bring a date to the many functions that routinely came up for the senator and his family. And if the man ran for president, as was widely rumored—not that he’d made a decision but Brad said he was close—then those events would be even more important and prominent.
But she couldn’t help but feel it was time, and she didn’t doubt he’d understand. She’d give him whatever leeway he needed to break the news to his father. But she needed to tell Decklan everything. There was no question she trusted him not to make the news public. And he deserved the truth.
Midweek, the telephone in the office rang, startling her out of her thoughts. “Hello, Ritter’s World,” she said, smiling, always amused by the company name. Bradley had refused to succumb to the mundane or anything corporate-sounding, like Ritter Software or Ritter, Inc.
“Amanda? It’s Stephan Ritter.”
She sat up straighter in her seat. “Senator!” She wished she’d checked caller ID before answering. “How are you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Stephan? How would it look for my future daughter-in-law to be so formal with me?” he asked.
Her hand started to shake, and her stomach accompanied it with a silent roll. “Stephan, you know you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“It’s just a matter of time,” he said with certainty. “If my son can get his head out of his computer long enough to think straight, I’m certain it will be sooner rather than later. How are you?” he asked.
“Fine,” she managed to say without choking on the word. She’d never had a problem talking to Brad’s father before, but she’d never had regrets about her situation either.
“I’m just calling to ask you and Bradley to be at my fund-raiser in New York on Sunday.”
She glanced at the big desk calendar she kept up to date in case Brad wanted a quick glance. “Is this something new? Because I don’t see it on the schedule.”