She also didn’t want to leave.
He followed her to the front door to lock up behind her. The only light in the house was the one they’d left on in the kitchen.
Turning, Lillie looked up at the man who’d come to mean more to her than he’d ever know. His strong, chiseled features would be in every good dream she had from there on out.
“I think it’s best that we not see each other socially anymore.” The words hurt, but she knew she was doing the right thing.
His jaw tightening, Jon didn’t reply.
“I’ll continue to see Abe at the day care, for a time,” she assured him. “For as long as he needs me, I’ll be there for him. But it won’t take long for him to attach to someone else,” she added. “Two-year-olds are resilient.”
Jon stood unmoving, a stone sculpture in his own living room.
“That’s why it’s best that we end this now, before he grows even more attached, or gets old enough to remember me.”
He didn’t argue. He didn’t agree. He didn’t touch her.
“Say something.”
“You’re the professional.”
Studying his expression, she looked for signs of derision, of sarcasm. There were none.
That was it, then.
Opening the door, Lillie turned her back.
“I’m sorry, Lil. Braydon was a lucky little guy to have you.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes as she hurried out into the night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LILLIE RECEIVED A page early the next morning. Having just come in from her bike ride with Caro—and having told her friend nothing about the night before—she read the message before jumping in the shower.
That morning’s MRI had been postponed until that afternoon. Which left her with a whole morning to herself.
She could make her normal rounds at the day care, after all. Be on call at the clinic. Work on a papoose design that would allow toddlers’ feet to be free, so that they didn’t overheat if they were crying while in restraints for procedures. She’d tentatively sold the design to a company she’d worked with at the children’s hospital in Phoenix. They’d been expecting a prototype for over a month.
There were any number of things she could be doing that morning, but she was a firm believer in fate. And she knew that there was something else she had to do with her suddenly free morning.
She didn’t call ahead. She knew what time and where. She just had to get herself showered. Dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white silk blouse and a black linen jacket, she slipped into her expensive pumps and headed out to her car.
In the beginning, she’d gone every day. Sometimes twice a day. Then once a week. Eventually, at the suggestion of a therapist she’d been seeing since before Braydon was born, she’d only allowed herself monthly visits. For the past two years, it had been only once a year—on the date of his birth.
She went to remember her whole self. And to promise her son that they would be together again someday.
Taking the second driveway in, she turned and turned again until she arrived at the row bearing the Henderson family stone.
Two other cars were there. Kirk’s convertible and a nondescript dark-colored sedan, which she assumed was the minister’s.
Seeing the middle-aged man standing in a long cloak, she was glad to see that Kirk had been honest with her at least. There was no fanfare. He hadn’t brought anyone else with him. This day was between him and the son he’d betrayed.
He introduced Lillie to the minister and, without any small talk at all, the short service was under way. Standing next to her ex-husband, not touching him, Lillie listened to the Scriptures. She bowed her head for a prayer. She heard Kirk’s words of sorrow and grief to his dead son and his pleas for forgiveness.
“My promise this day and for every day of my life is to live a life that will honor you, Braydon Thomas. You will be the basis upon which every decision in my life is made from this moment forward.”
Her throat caught. She was not going to cry. She had no tears left.