He was beginning to see that there was no way to delve into her relationship with Bruce—or to gain a true understanding of his brother at all—without looking at how that night had changed life for all of them.
“Did you ever think about it? Ever think maybe I should be invited to Christmas dinner and then try to approach him about it?” They’d only had one Christmas as husband and wife. “Or since the divorce…you’ve never called to ask if I’d like to spend some time with my niece.”
“That would be disloyal to Bruce. I don’t want to be married to him, but he’s still the father of my child.”
There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation over that. And chances were pretty good that she was right—that Bruce was Brianna’s father. Bruce had been with her a lot more than Mason had—and after the antibiotic would’ve had more time to interfere with her birth control. But still…was he the only one who’d spent four years wondering what he might be missing? Years that he’d never get back?
He couldn’t really blame her for not calling. Or blame Bruce, either. She was being loyal to the man she’d loved—as had he all those years. Both of them understanding that they’d wronged Bruce. Both of them trying to make amends.
“And you knew it killed him to find out we were together.”
“Of course,” she said.
He’d known, too. Because Bruce had made it plain to him just how much Mason’s defection was costing him, how much pain it had brought him.
“But Bruce didn’t hold that night over my head, Mason. We spoke about it the one time and then made a pact that it would never be mentioned again. I brought it up once, after Brie was born and I didn’t want there to be any doubts that she was his. But when he refused to take the paternity test, I let it drop. I always knew that night was there between us somehow, but not because of him. It was because of me. It was my own shame that ate at me.”
The words were a kick in his gut, but Mason moved past that.
“You don’t think he understood that? And capitalized on it?”
“He never gave me the feeling that he didn’t trust me. He knew it was a one-time thing.”
“Which was why he banned me from all family life, other than private visits with my father and Gram?”
“He didn’t want the reminder of that one time.” She sat up straighter as she spoke.
Mason did, too. “How would you know that if you never spoke about that night again?”
“I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “But I’m positive that was why.”
“Because he let you know in insidious little ways. Like, for instance, saying he no longer believed in people as he once had. That life had taught him nothing’s certain.”
She stared at him. And a moment later said, “He was always referring to cases when he talked about…losing his faith in people.”
“That’s what he said on the surface. But he knew the message he was sending you.” Mason had spent a lifetime dealing with Bruce.
“How did you know he said that exact thing?”
“I heard it, too.” He’d recognized it for what it was.
So maybe he was the one to get this job done. Because he could see what others might miss.
“We did him wrong, Mason.”
He didn’t disagree. Not on his part. He was Bruce’s brother, and family was far more significant than the sometimes unreliable wiles of sexual desire. Not only that, he’d been there that night on a mission for his brother. But it was different for her…
“You’d given him back your ring,” he reminded her. “You were no longer engaged.”
“I threw it at him in anger. He’d said he was going to keep it for me until I wanted it back.”
“Manipulation.”
“Or the faith of a man in love.”
For her, thoughts of their night together obviously evoked shame. The knowledge rankled. A bothersome but futile nuisance.
“The point is, he was unfaithful first, Harper.”
“He confessed to me the very next day.”
“But he lied about the circumstance, making it sound like his motive had been clean and worthy, although the act itself was dirty. He told you he’d been with a perp that night and he’d been with Gwen. He also told you sex with the perp happened only once and it was multiple times.”