He shook his head emphatically. “No, that’s fine. I’ll get some things delivered in.”
“On the weekend?”
“I’ll deal with it,” he said firmly and opened his door to get out of the car. “See you Monday.”
She took the hint and nodded, but her disappointment was clear in her eyes. “Monday it is. Good night, Xander. I’m glad you’re back to your old self.”
After she’d driven off, he took the elevator to his floor and let himself into his apartment. The soullessness of the space was just what he needed right now. He didn’t want memories or feelings or anything. Except maybe a shot of whisky. He walked over to the cabinet where he kept his liquor and grabbed a bottle of Scotland’s finest before going to the kitchen, where he splashed two fingers of amber liquid in a crystal tumbler.
He walked over to the windows that looked out over the harbor and toward Devonport—toward Olivia—and took a sip of the spirit. It burned as it went down, not the deep satisfying burn he’d anticipated but something far less pleasant. Xander looked down at the glass in his hand and wondered what the hell he was doing seeking solace in alcohol. He’d never done it before, and he certainly shouldn’t be starting now.
He strode to the kitchen and tipped out the contents of the tumbler into the sink. He needed a distraction, but whisky wasn’t it. He stared at the large flat-screen TV mounted on the far wall of his sitting room. No, not even watching a movie or channel surfing appealed. Instead, Xander walked down the hallway toward his bedroom, stopping at the door to his office.
His hand was on the handle before he realized what he was doing. Work had always been a panacea for him—why should that be any different now? He should still have some client notes here he could go over. He rued the fact his laptop had been destroyed in the crash. Not even its leather case had protected its harddrive from the impact. If he’d had the laptop, at least he could have looked forward to losing himself for a few hours by updating himself on his files and who had handled what in his absence.
The minute Xander stepped in his office he knew Olivia had been in there. The picture of Parker that he’d taken with him the first time he’d left her wasn’t on his desk where he knew he’d left it. A roll of rage swelled inside him. Wiping their son’s memory from their house had been one thing, but tampering with his apartment, as well? That was going too far.
He searched the office for the picture, his movements becoming more frantic the longer it took him to find it. The relief that coursed through his body when he found the frame, face down in a drawer, was enough to make him drop heavily into his chair. He looked at the beloved face of his only child. Felt anew the loss and grief that he usually kept locked inside. Relived the guilt.
Carefully he put the picture back on his desk where it belonged and stared at it for several minutes. Losing Parker was a reminder that he couldn’t stray from the path he’d set himself. He didn’t want to love again the way he’d loved Olivia and their little boy because when it all fell apart it hurt far too much.
He understood why his father had collapsed within himself the way he had. His grief and guilt over Xander’s brother’s death had been too much for him to handle, especially with the way Xander’s mother had locked herself in a non-emotional cocoon and forged her way through the rest of her life. He hadn’t had the support he needed. After losing his son and his marriage, Xander hadn’t had any support to lean on, either. But he was tougher, more determined not to become a victim of his own dreadful mistake, and if that meant separating himself from emotion—the way his mother had—then that’s what he would do.
* * *
It had been the longest two weeks of her life and Olivia felt decidedly ragged around the edges when she forced herself to get out of bed and embark on her new daily routine. Who was she kidding, she wondered as she padded downstairs in her dressing gown, her hair askew and her face unwashed. This tired, halfhearted attempt to continue on as though everything was normal was a step back into the past, hardly anything new.
The house felt empty without Xander there, and her heart echoed with loss. She’d spent the past fourteen days listlessly wandering around, feeling unmotivated and empty. Even a call from the gallery owner to say they’d just sold the last piece and had requests lining up for more of her work couldn’t lift her spirits.
She’d screwed up. Again. So what now? She aimlessly went through the motions of making coffee and pouring it into a mug. As she lifted the brew to her lips to take a sip, the aroma filled her nostrils and turned her stomach. She’d been off and on different things for days now, and coffee was just another to add to the list. With a sigh she tipped the contents down the drain and turned instead to put the kettle on. Maybe a cup of peppermint tea would revive her flagging appetite.