Shocked, he turned slightly. Their eyes met and he was stunned anew at the steady, resolute love in her eyes. There wasn't an ounce of recrimination or fear on her face. Nothing she could have done would have driven home her point more than that. In that moment, he learned the true meaning of unconditional love. Because he knew without a doubt that even if he said yes, that she would love him anyway.
"You are truly the best thing that ever happened to me," he stated before pressing his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a few moments, then he tugged her closer for a kiss.
"No, I didn't kill her. She committed suicide. Right after we made love for the first time."
Her legs tightened around him. "I am so sorry."
Now that he was telling the story, the words wouldn't stop coming. The emotion that had been corked for so long had finally found release. He couldn't stop until he'd laid it all bare.
"She broke out into tears after we slept together and told me that she'd never loved me. I was just a shadow of the man she truly loved. And then after we argued, she went upstairs to her bathroom and slit her wrists."
He had to stop in earnest then. Images of that awful day came flooding back. All the blood. He'd left the house and walked around to cool off. He'd been so angry. It hurt now to remember that his last moments with her hadn't been happy ones. When he'd come upstairs and found her in the tub, he'd tried everything to slow the blood loss and he'd been covered in it by the time the paramedics arrived. Even after washing for hours, he could still see the evidence of her heartache all over his hands.
He'd thought he'd live forever covered in the stain.
"I was the last person who saw her alive. The police were all over me afterward. They wanted to know everything we'd done. Whether we'd fought. But there was no evidence of a struggle so my family's lawyers kept them away from me after that. Somehow my father managed to keep things quiet in the press. But then her autopsy revealed she'd been three months pregnant when she died. And suddenly her earlier comments about me being just a shadow of who she really wanted made sense."
"She was pregnant?" Mara's eyes softened as she realized what that meant.
"James eventually admitted that it was his."
"How awful. Not just for her family but also for you. She sounds like she was very troubled and your brother used that to his advantage. How could they both betray you like that?"
"My brother twists people. He leaves heartache and mayhem behind wherever he goes. He screwed with Tia's head and now he's doing the same thing to Avery. It doesn't even occur to him the damage he's doing. Or he doesn’t care. But either way, he hurts people. It's just what he does."
"None of that is your fault. You couldn't have known what would happen that night. There was nothing that you could have done."
"I know. But that doesn't stop me from wishing that there was."
He shifted so he could see her face. She rubbed his chest in slow, supportive circles while he talked.
"As much as I've resented Avery’s recent neediness, I made a promise to always be there for her. We're both victims of loving people who are completely wrong for us. I understood what she's going through because that was once my story, too."
"I have to admit, knowing about all this definitely helps me see her differently. I feel a little sorry for her. As long as she's in love with your brother, she'll never know what it's like to be appreciated and cherished. The way you love me."
Trent moved and then pulled her into his lap. She curled up against his chest and let out a soft sigh.
"A lifetime of loving James has twisted her into someone that I barely recognize. But I can't abandon her. After all, a lifetime of loving my brother has done nearly the same to me."
Chapter Twelve
THE NEXT MORNING, Trent woke feeling lighter than he had in months. They’d talked long into the night, sharing their dreams and fears. It was the first time Trent had told her about what it was like to grow up under his father’s thumb. She'd shared the unique insecurities that developed from being raised by an incredibly beautiful mother.
There were so many obstacles they’d have to jump through to be completely open to each other but he was starting to believe it was possible.
"We're going out," Trent announced as soon as they were done with breakfast.
Mara looked up from her perch on the couch. She still wore one of his t-shirts and her hair was uncombed. Neither of them had showered yet.
"Out? I thought you said you didn't have to work today?"
"I don't. We are going out so I can show you New York. And not the bullshit ten-dollar tour recommended for tourists. I want to show you all the things about New York that I missed when I moved away. And it definitely wasn't the Statue of Liberty."
Mara stood, her eyes gleaming. "Now you have me intrigued. Give me ten minutes."
When he turned to follow her, she put a hand squarely in the middle of his chest. "Oh no. You have to stay here. If you come with me, we'll get sidetracked and never get out of the shower."
"What?" Disappointed, his mind already on her slick curves covered in suds, he allowed her to push him back a few steps.