But sitting there on his patio with Ella, noticing how much better it felt having her in his space than occupying it alone, it hit him why she was there. She’d come to him looking for a way to leave the past behind her and be free to love another man.
Jason.
He thought about telling her that he knew, thought about preventing this whole conversation—sparing himself from it. But didn’t.
Ella had the right to say what she’d come here to say. Had the right to get this closure.
He also knew, without doubt, that he had to give her what she wanted...
“Please, Brett, tell me how you felt.”
She didn’t answer his question. Didn’t tell him why.
But she didn’t owe him that. He owed her.
“I was scared to death,” he said, meeting her gaze in spite of what it cost him. His chest tightened to the point of pain. If he didn’t know better, he’d have considered the possibility that he was having a heart attack.
But Brett knew better. The sensation was all too familiar to him.
And one he’d been having since junior high.
“Of what?”
He drew in air. “Of having someone look up to me, looking to me for example and guidance in matters of life, and me, damaged goods, ruining them. Putting the family curse on them.”
“I was going to be there, too.”
“Yes, but it only takes one person to bring misery to a whole family.”
“You were afraid you were going to be your father.”
“There’s no guarantee I wouldn’t be.”
“Because he showed you the way, right? He showed you how a man can be absolutely, completely certain he’d never bring violence into his home and then...he did.”
“Maybe.”
“My father was a great dad, El. A great husband. For well over a decade there’d been no sign...and then, he just snap
ped.”
“Maybe there were signs. Maybe you were too young to recognize them.”
“I have a lot of memories of me and him when I was a kid. None of them bad.”
“Kids have ways of forgiving things, forgetting them. They adjust. Adapt.”
“There’s no guarantee I wouldn’t do the same. And I can’t let that happen. I’d rather be dead than abuse someone. And the thought of creating an abusive streak in another human being...of continuing the pattern...”
“But there’s no guarantee you would do it.” Her words were a cry from the heart. Even he recognized them as such.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why, after we knew you were pregnant, I’d started wandering the house in the middle of the night?”
“You were having trouble sleeping, obviously.”
He hadn’t planned to tell anyone other than the counselor he’d spoken to about that time in his life. About the nightmares that still haunted him when he allowed their memory to surface. Had thought that was a shame he’d carry with him to his grave.
But Ella needed his help. Needed to understand. And her comfort was more important to him than his own. At least these days. He’d grown up a bit since staying with a woman long past the time when he’d known he should get out.