Sitting down beside her, he braced himself for bad news. Anyone who knew his mother knew how strong she was. Whatever had her upset had to be big. “What’s going on, Mom?”
She turned to angle her body in his direction. “I know this is going to be hard for you, but Declan…”
He swallowed. This was killing him. “Just say it. What? Please. You’re worrying me.”
“I’m leaving your father.”
Declan’s eyes went wide. “You’re what?”
“That’s right. I’ve had enough, Declan. Your father lives his job. I’m tired of living it with him. Not that I do. He won’t even know I’m gone.”
He didn’t even know what to say. “You’ve been married for thirty-seven years. Surely you could talk—”
“I’ve talked for thirty-seven years. I’m finished, Declan.” Finality laced her words.
Declan had learned that there were times to talk and times to listen. This wasn’t a talk time. “What are you going to do?”
“I moved my things today. I took an apartment off West Fifth.”
The words hit Declan like a two-by-four. This was for real. She wasn’t just talking. “Does Dad know?”
“I left him a note,” she said, the slightest tremble in her voice. “I doubt he notices it until bedtime. He won’t get home until late. He never does.”
“Mom—” He didn’t finish, his words cut off as she burst into tears. Declan reached for her, feeling his heart squeeze painfully. “It’s okay, Mom. Let it out.”
His hand stroked her back, and he rested his chin on her head. Life had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot more complicated than it had been only minutes before. He might be an adult, but the thought of his parents breaking up made him feel incredibly unsettled.
Long minutes later with a promise to take his mother to dinner, Declan found a private moment to call Zoe. He hated to break their date. As he picked up the phone, anticipating the sound of her voice, he realized this thing with his parents made him wish for time with her all the more. To find comfort in her arms. It was a crazy thought considering he barely knew her.
But then, everything about Zoe seemed to make him crazy.
* * * * *
Zoe stood on her balcony with a glass of wine in her hand. It was her second. The first had been an hour ago when she thought Declan would soon arrive. She’d been uncharacteristically nervous so she’d decided a few sips of alcohol might calm her nerves.
Now, thirty minutes after he was supposed to arrive, she contemplated a third glass. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but her stupidity over Declan made her want to scream. Okay, it was worse than that. His no-show, no-call act hurt. It shouldn’t. She
barely knew him. But it did. Maybe because it reminded her of all the times her father promised to be places that he wasn’t. Work probably had Declan detained. Like her father, he probably didn’t even realize the time.
Figured.
Tipping back her glass, she finished off the last of the warm, red liquid and headed for the door. A few seconds later, she discarded her high-heeled sandals and reached for the bottle she’d sat on top of her television. Just as she filled her glass the phone rang. Instantly, her stomach clenched with apprehension. She glanced at the clock clenching her teeth as she noted the tardiness of communication. A call forty minutes after he was due to arrive was simply too late. Zoe took her wine and went back to the balcony, shutting the door and with it blocking out the sound of the ringing.
Declan Price could go to hell.
Chapter Five
At midnight, Declan stood outside Zoe’s door.
Coming here at this time had been insane, and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Zoe hadn’t taken his calls, so she’d left him no choice. He knew that missing their date and calling far too late had set him up to look bad. If she would just hear him out, he could explain. He had to explain.
With a deep breath, he knocked. And knocked again.
Finally, he heard sounds from inside. “Who is it?”
Flattening his palms on the door, he let out a breath, relieved to hear her voice. “It’s Declan.”
Silence. Then, “Go away.”
“No,” he said. “Not until you hear me out.”
“Go away, Declan.”
“No.”
Silence.
“No?”
“No,” he said. “Not until you hear what I have to say.”
She cracked the door, chain in place. “I have neighbors. Go away. How’d you even get past the doorman?” Pause. “Never mind. I know how. Money.”
The snide remark didn’t escape Declan’s attention. Not only was she pissed, she was still judging him by some preconceived notion about attorneys. Or maybe about men in general.
Shoving aside the subject, he went back after his objective. “How I got here isn’t important. The fact that I’m here, waking up your neighbors, should be your concern.”