His grandfather had figured Bruce would be too young to know who the present had come from, so it wouldn’t matter; Mason had overheard his mother tell his father, who’d been noticeably upset. They’d taken the plane away from Mason and gone out and bought both of the boys presents—Mason’s being another model airplane.
“Maybe he thought he was a bad boy and that was why his grandfather didn’t like him. Maybe he decided that he’d no longer have a chance to show his grandfather that he was a good boy.”
Was she for real? Or playing devil’s advocate? His best self should know the answer to that question.
“Bruce holds things over people. Reminds them of some grievance he’s got against them, something they’ve supposedly done to him. That way, they’re more prone to make amends. His charm keeps them on his side.”
Again, Harper shook her head. “I really think this is all a bit much,” she told him. “It feels like you’re digging too deep here.”
Because he was hitting a vulnerable place? Or because Grace had been overdramatizing? She’d always been the calm, nurturing one of Gram’s friends. The one Mason had most enjoyed talking to. The one whose opinion he’d most respected.
“So you didn’t ever feel you had to make amends?”
“Of course I did! But everyone feels that way about their partner—or should feel that way if the relationship is going to survive.”
There it was again—that reference to a lasting relationship. They were speaking of a marriage that had only survived a year. So were Bruce’s references to him and Harper getting back together actually based in some truth?
“No one’s perfect,” she continued. “I’d make mistakes, say things I didn’t mean, especially when I was pregnant and tired.”
She’d been pregnant through most of that one-year marriage.
“I’d be an idiot if I didn’t apologize and try to make amends.”
“Did Bruce apologize as often as you did?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t keep track.”
“Do you feel like he did?”
She’d looked away, brought her gaze back to his. “I truly don’t know, Mason. I feel I apologized a lot, but people always notice their own apologies more than another person’s. Because, if the apologies are sincere, it hurts having to give them, so you feel them more acutely.”
“Grace says he seemed to keep you in a state of constant guilt. You were always trying to appease him, rather than please him. Her words, not mine.”
Harper had little reaction to that. Showed no confusion. Didn’t frown. She just sat there, as though she was thinking seriously but unemotionally about what he’d said.
With her arms behind her on the bench, she scooted back and rested against the bars of the machine. Her nails were well-groomed. And short. Preferable, in his opinion. Less chance of hurting a guy when her hand was on his…
She should smell like sweat. He caught a whiff of something that smelled more like soap. A residual scent from her shampoo? Maybe the spray she’d put on her hair?
His training, which had taught him to notice the smallest detail, didn’t always serve him well.
He didn’t know which was worse. Dealing with his inappropriate sexual arousal or listening to her talk about her marriage to his brother. Defending his brother.
“I have no idea how Grace would have known, but I suppose I did feel a sense of perennial guilt where Bruce was concerned. But it wasn’t because he barraged me with anything. On the contrary, the guilt came from within me.”
His discomfort took a turn, but was no less difficult to deal with.
“You’re certain of that? He didn’t hold anything over you? Didn’t expect things of you because you’d done something to displease him?”
Her frown had returned. Lifting her feet onto the bench, she hugged her knees to her chest. He didn’t miss the closed body language in that one.
“What if you’d contacted me, for instance?” He’d told himself their night five years ago was off-limits. Anything to do with that night was off-limits. But he’d already blown that all to hell with the whole Brianna-testing thing.