How to Keep a Secret

Her love for Scott had been something different again. Fiery, intense and all consuming, it had burned up everything else in its path. It was as if every feeling she was capable of had been channeled into that one relationship and when it blew apart she’d been empty.

She’d sleepwalked into marriage with Ed, grateful for the safety and security. She hadn’t loved him in the early stages because she hadn’t had a single emotion left to give beyond trust and friendship. Gradually she’d healed, and those feelings had deepened.

Her love for Ed had grown over time like a plant that had flourished when it was watered and tended. It wasn’t what she’d felt for Scott, but it had been what she needed. She’d had no wish to ever feel that depth and intensity of emotion again.

“I loved him.”

He pushed a strand of her hair back from her face, his fingers gentle. “You used to wear it loose.”

“I used to do a lot of things I don’t do now.” Like love you. “I have to go.”

“Why? What’s the hurry?” His gaze was steady. “What are you afraid of, Laurie?”

She almost laughed.

The answer to that could easily have been everything, and she realized she was tired of living with that feeling. She’d been afraid since the police had knocked on the door, since Mack had discovered who her father was, since she’d discovered there was no money. And maybe she’d even been afraid before that. Afraid that she wasn’t really living the life she could be living.

Either way, she was done with being afraid and that included being afraid to say the things she wanted to say. “At least I stand my ground when I’m scared. You walked away from fatherhood because you were afraid. Because your own childhood was so difficult, you were afraid you didn’t have the skills you needed. You were afraid you’d let her down. Screw her up. And I tried to understand that. I told myself you were being selfless, but over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that you weren’t being selfless, you were being selfish.” It felt good to say it. Good to stop making excuses for him, for pretending to accept something she’d never truly accepted.

She was aware of the beating of her heart and the soft lap of the water against the dock.

A seagull passed overheard with a shriek and a beating of wings.

It took Scott so long to respond she started to think he wasn’t going to and then finally he stirred.

“I came to that conclusion long before you did.”

It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “You were afraid to be a father, but I was scared, too, Scott. I was terrified, and you left me with it.”

Emotion flickered across his face.

He opened his mouth to say something and then his gaze shifted from her face to a point over her shoulder. “Cal is coming back.” There was frustration in his voice. “We need to take this conversation somewhere more private. My boat is on the water.”

“You’re inviting me sailing? Now?”

“Yes. There are things I need to say to you.”

For a moment she yearned for it. For being back on the water, feeling the roll of the boat as it skimm

ed the ocean, the wind in her hair, the freedom. And Scott, with his hat tugged down over his eyes and his legs braced against the roll of the boat. Sailing would mean being on the boat with him. Just the two of them.

That wasn’t going to happen. Being close to him made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, and nothing he said was going to change the past.

“We can’t turn the clock back, Scott. We can’t undo what was done.”

“No, but we can move forward. If it helps your decision making, I promise not to put my hands on you.”

She still remembered exactly how it had felt when he put his hands on her.

It made her legs weaken to think of it.

Her gaze met his and the tension in the air almost suffocated her.

Then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and Cal approached. She thought that this was not the conversation to be having when they were about to be interrupted, and then realized that what she should be thinking was that they shouldn’t be having this conversation at all.

What was she thinking?

“My husband died, Scott. And whether you believe it or not, I loved him.”