When it was over, he rolled to one side pulling her with him, so that her head rested where it was meant to be, in the hollow formed by his shoulder. His hand kept sliding up and down her back, his fingertips testing each vertebrae, the curve of her waist, the sharpness of her shoulder blades. Happiness mixed with a kind of desperation filled her chest. It was like holding her breath underwater. The moment would inevitably come when she had to let it all out and she’d be left hollow inside.
“Why aren’t you married, Lia?” Conall’s voice was a rumble that vibrated beneath her cheek. “Why don’t you have your own kids?”
Surprised, she tilted her head but, of course, couldn’t see his face. She took a minute to formulate a reply.
“I didn’t want a marriage like my parents’. It’s so…unequal. I saw friends’ families, of course, but I never felt that close to any of their parents. I always had this feeling of separateness, I wasn’t like any of them.”
“Because of getting deported.”
“Maybe. Probably. It made me feel dirty, like I didn’t belong here. But I didn’t belong there, either. Dad and Mom are so different from each other, I guess I’ve always felt split down the middle.” She didn’t remember ever saying any of this before, even though she’d figured it out a long time ago. Maybe it was the darkness and the comfort of Conall’s embrace that made speaking now so easy.
“You’ve had boyfriends.”
She was glad he didn’t ask if she’d ever been in love. He wouldn’t want to hear her say, Until now, you mean?
“Only a couple that were semi-serious. One in college. That was the closest call to anything permanent. Emilio’s parents were migrant workers, but legal. He was warm and funny and we had something in common.”
There was a small silence. “But?”
“But it turned out he was also really traditional. He assumed we’d get married and there wouldn’t be any reason for me to go to grad school, would there, although it would be okay if I worked for a couple of years until he was making enough to buy a house and start a family. I panicked.”
He chuckled. That vibration felt so nice, Lia kissed his chest. Muscles flexed and his arms tightened.
“What about you?” she asked. “Your brothers are both married. Is it your job?”
At first she didn’t think he was going to answer at all. “No,” he said finally. “Although it would be tough, doing the kind of work I do.”
Lia had no trouble imagining how awful it could be—him disappearing for weeks or months on end, her having no real idea where he was or what he was doing, knowing only that he was probably in danger. Yes, that would be hard on a relationship.
“Jeff’s married, though. You knew that.”
She nodded.
“I know other guys who are. A couple of female agents, too.” Again he was quiet and she had the sense of him collecting himself. “I vowed years ago I was never going there.”
The heaviness in her chest felt a lot less like happiness now.
“My parents weren’t a shining example. Dad wasn’t abusive, nothing like that. I picture him now and I can see that he was handsome, maybe charming. He was good at making people laugh. He didn’t really like working for a living, though. Mom and he fought bitterly. It got physical sometimes, which scared the crap out of all of us. They’d break stuff, put holes in the walls.” He was silent for a moment. “She ended up doing everything around the house and holding down a job, too. Sometimes we’d suddenly have money. Later I realized it was when he was dealing. Mom kept making him swear to go straight, and he’d try, but it didn’t last long. He wasn’t…reliable.”
“He must have loved her, to try.”
“Maybe.” The way his muscles twitched felt involuntary. “I didn’t see anything that looked like love.”
His voice never gave much away, but she couldn’t possibly mistake this kind of searing pain. Lia lifted her head, wishing she could see him. She would have sat up and reached for the lamp switch except that she guessed he, too, was talking more freely because the darkness hid so much. In a way, she hoped he didn’t realize how much he’d revealed.