Stepping out of the shower, he took a towel and began to dry himself.
Everything he had thought about the woman lying in his bed was wrong. She wasn’t some university dropout with no direction, or a party girl using her job as a casino waitress to target sugar daddies.
She was just a young woman who had been dealt a two-seven—the worst hand in poker.
Abandoned by her mother, unwanted and ignored by her father, she had now lost the one person in her life who’d loved her, and that had led to her losing her voice and a career.
And then, when she had still been grieving and broken, he had come along and tried to take Archie.
It sickened him that he had done that—that he had considered it acceptable, normal, to behave with such casual ruthlessness.
When had he become that man?
Why had he become that man?
But he knew why.
It had been the only way to stay within the orbit of his father’s love. Outside
of that orbit there had been nothing but a cold, endless dark. And he had seen what it was like not to matter to Lao Dan—to be pushed out into the darkness that had swallowed up his mother. And that had scared him. So he had been willing—eager, in fact, to do whatever had been necessary to earn his father’s approval.
Whatever had been necessary.
It was easy to say. It had always been easy to do. But now what mattered was doing what was right.
For Archie’s sake, Dora needed to know that Della had not just loved her, but trusted her.
He wanted to do that for her. In fact he wanted to do more than that. He wanted to make her believe in herself again, so that one day she would be able to sing as she had in those videos.
‘Here you are.’
Leaning forward, Dora handed Archie another soft ball, and watched as he stuffed it into the open mouth of a cheery-looking orange monster which promptly spat it out.
She laughed as he gave a squeal of delight. It had been one of his birthday presents from Charlie’s sisters and he absolutely loved it.
‘Hi. Mind if I come in? I just want to run something by you.’
Glancing up, she felt her heart flip over. Charlie was standing in the doorway, holding a large white envelope in one hand. His hair was damp and sleek from the shower and, as usual, her brain was unreasonably distracted by his dark eyes and the curve of his cheekbones.
It was the first time she had seen him since last night. Since they had made love again and she had cried all over him. Again.
It had been so embarrassing. He must think so too—otherwise why was he suddenly being so formal, standing in the doorway asking for permission to enter?
Maybe if she just acted as if none of it had happened...
But then she thought back to what he had said yesterday, about being honest with each other. Glancing over to where Archie was now enthusiastically hugging the monster, she felt a trickle of hope dilute her panic.
The fact was that, without planning to do so, she had already been honest with Charlie and the sky hadn’t fallen on her head. He already knew everything—good and bad. Either she had told him or he had known it already from that dumb report.
And if there was one truth that was truer than all the rest, it was that she wanted to give Archie a good life. And for that to happen she needed the two of them to work.
She took a breath. ‘Okay, but first I just want to say sorry for what happened yesterday. I don’t know why I keep crying all over you. I mean, I know why I’m upset, it’s just that’s not how I normally behave.’
Her heartbeat stumbled. She had a well-practised strategy for dealing with pain and sadness. Basically, she just pushed anything bad out of her head and it worked out fine.
Of course Della hadn’t ever been fooled, but the rest of the world had never suspected that she was hurting inside—or how much.
Only for some reason, with Charlie, she seemed to turn into a sobbing wreck.