The Confession (11 page)

“We’ll talk tomorrow, it’s late.” Her voice cracked, and the dam broke, setting free a torrent of tears.

Without looking back, she threw open the door and ran.

Emily sat back in the booth at The Terrace Restaurant and sipped her glass of chardonnay. She tried to squelch the anxiousness she felt at seeing Preston. She pulled a compact mirror out of her purse and checked her reflection. Her hair was perfectly smooth, pulled back into a French twist. Her makeup was subtle, her eyes smoky, her lips lightly glossed. The diamond studs adorning her ears once belonged to Preston and Nathan’s grandmother and were a gift from Nathan on their first wedding anniversary.

Preston and Nathan had been best friends as well as brothers. In the years since Nathan’s death, Preston had honored the promise he’d made to his brother and watched closely over her. She wondered if Nathan ever considered how hard it would be on her year after year. She doubted he had, he’d never do anything maliciously to bring her pain. But seeing Preston did bring her pain, and the effort it took to cover the fact, always left her tired and sad for days.

She’d been able to maintain her distance from him to some extent, but the Nathan Talbot Foundation’s annual auction brought them together each year. Preston would escort her to the auction and diligently stand next to her singing her praises as they socialized. He’d act like the host he believed himself to be in his brother’s stead. And each year she’d swear that next year she was planning a masquerade ball instead of an auction. She never did.

She watched with trepidation as the maître d’ slowly walked Preston toward her booth. He wore black slacks and a sea foam green sweater that made his hazel eyes vivid. He had only the slightest amount of creases on his beautiful face, and his hair was just slightly peppered. He appeared distinguished rather than older. His smile was bright and genuine. His stride was confident and powerful as he spotted her and increased his pace.

Her hands began to shake and she clasped them together on the table top. Her stomach churned, and her heart raced. Her eyes welled with tears as she blinked rapidly to hide any evidence of her reaction. Pasting on a bright smile of her own, she stood to greet her late husband’s identical twin brother.

He pulled her into his arms and exuberantly lifted her off the ground. “You get more beautiful every day,” he said, setting her down gently and kissing her cheek.

She wanted to hold on, to close her eyes and feel his arms around her. Nathan’s arms. She wanted to bury her head in the crook of his shoulder and listen to him say her name in Nathan’s voice. She wanted to cry at the injustice of it all. The living, breathing replica of what her husband would be like if he were with her today. How easy it would be to pretend.

“Preston, it’s so nice to see you.” She smiled and squeezed his hand affectionately.

Sliding back into her seat, she fought the urge to toss back her wine rather than sip it. He slid in across from her. Ordering a glass of wine and taking it upon himself to request another for her, he nodded his thanks to the waitress, laid the menu down, and turned his full attention to Emily.

“So how are things? It feels like forever since we’ve spoken.”

“Things are good. The auction is coming together beautifully thanks to my new assistant. The yard modifications are more than I’d hoped for, and McKenzie should be home in a week or so. How about you?”

“I’m doing great. Business is good, better than good actually. Home sales may be down, and the economy is a bit of a mess, but the rich still want vacation homes, and they still call me to locate them.”

Over dinner of grilled salmon for her and strip steak for him, they continued the small talk of business, McKenzie’s latest venture, Mark, and home projects. Over coffee and dessert, she updated him on the preparations for the auction.

As they sat and waited for the waitress to bring the check, Preston finally asked the inevitable. “So are you seeing anyone?”

She shook her head and said as she always did, “I don’t need to see anyone, I have all I need.”

“It’s not healthy to spend your entire life alone.” He reached out and placed his hand on hers, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

“I’m never alone.” She laughed trying to lighten the weight she felt inside her chest. “You can trust me on that one.”

“You know what I mean, Em.”

Her control began to slip when Preston called her Em in Nathan’s voice. She missed him every day. It didn’t matter that he’d been gone over twenty years. He was as much a part of her now as he was then. It was these moments, sitting across from his twin, when it became unbearable. It was so easy to lose herself in the fantasy that it was her and Nathan having dinner, or sharing desert, or that it was actually Nathan’s hand lying on her own. She quickly pulled her hand back and reached nervously for her coffee cup.

“You’re a fine one to be telling me about spending my life alone, Preston Talbot. What is that saying of people in glass houses?”

He laughed. “I don’t want to spend my life alone, but my brother found you first and after all these years, he’s still playing finders-keepers.”

The conversation always came around to this. It was easier for her to pretend he wasn’t serious when he made those comments, so she did. But she knew the truth. Preston had always wanted her, from the moment they’d been introduced. He’d told her as much a week after Nathan’s funeral. She’d been honest and told him there would never be another man for her.

The waitress appeared again, and after signing the check, Preston’s eyes grew serious. “I know how hard this time of the year is for you. With all the memories of Nathan, and the anniversary of your — ”

She interrupted him, unable to hear the words he was about to speak. “I appreciate your concern, honestly I do. I’m handling it.” She patted his hand. “So, are you going to be picking me up in the limo, or shall I call my fairy godmother and have her whip me up a pumpkin chariot?”

He shook his head and pursed his lips. “You win, I’ll drop it. I think I’ll bring the limo, that way you can stay out past the stroke of midnight.”

Mark let his body glide through the water of the pool using the momentum from his last push off the far wall. When he began to slow, he kicked his feet and sliced his arms through the water, regaining speed. He’d spent six years on the swim team between high school and college, but now he only swam when he needed to clear his head.

He took a breath and placed his face back into the water, picking up his pace. He turned to the side, blew it out, pulled fresh air into his lungs and continued. He lost count of how many laps he’d swam, but even his exhausted body wasn’t helping to shut down his brain. He’d really messed up this time.

He couldn’t stop seeing the look of hurt and embarrassment on Aimee’s face. She’d done nothing wrong. Well, except not leaving him alone to sort out all the crap he was feeling about his father’s visit. But that wasn’t fair and he knew it. Deep down, he was relieved when she’d knocked on the door. She’d been a great listener and seemed to know exactly what he needed. Besides, he’d been the one to kiss her.

He didn’t understand his strange internal conflict where she was concerned. He knew basically nothing about her, other than what little she’d told him, and what he’d learned from the investigator. Then there was the fact that he’d hired an investigator to gather information on her. That alone put them at odds. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but something was off with her. He knew she was hiding something. He just wasn’t sure what it was.

So knowing he didn’t trust her, why was it he couldn’t stop thinking about her? Why did his entire body burst into flames at the slightest touch? Why did seeing her with another man, even in a working situation, make his fists clench and his stomach turn? Why was it that when he looked at her mouth, he had to kiss it?

After his father left, he hadn’t headed to see Emily as he assumed he would. Instead he walked over and knocked on Aimee’s cottage door. He’d needed to see her and he was disappointed when she wasn’t in. None of this made sense.

He tried to convince himself there was nothing necessarily special about Aimee. Sure she was beautiful, sexy, easy to talk to, funny, and a great kisser, so what?

He dunked under the water, rolled, and propelled himself off the wall for another lap. He knew if he didn’t exhaust his body, his mind would keep him awake. The last thing he was in the mood for was tossing and turning all night picturing a sexy blond with incredible lips. Not to mention the clear image of black lace over creamy pale skin …

“Mark?”

Startled, he gasped, pulling water into his lungs. He stopped mid-stroke and began to choke.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said with the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought back a smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you, or to drown you for that matter.”

He plopped down on the stairs at the shallow end of the pool and coughed again. “No problem.” He looked up at her and smiled. “You look exceptionally beautiful tonight. How’d it go?”

“Thank you, and fine.” She sat down in the chair closest to him. “How are you doing? I heard we had a strange visitor, and now you’re attempting to break the world record for number of laps swum in an hour’s time.”

She knew him so well. Sometimes he forgot she wasn’t actually his mother. “I’m proud to report there is no blood whatsoever on the sitting room carpet, or the front porch.”

“Mark, talk to me.”

He looked into her concerned eyes and felt his heart warm. “I’m fine. I must admit I was surprised he showed up here after all these years.”

“What did he want, money?”

“You ready for this one? He wants forgiveness.” He stood up and climbed out of the pool. Grabbing a towel off the chair, he dried his chest and wrapped it around his waist before sitting down in the empty chair next to her. He expected to feel the anger again. The gut churning, blood boiling sort that he’d felt earlier. He didn’t. He felt only sadness, for the little boy who never had a father, and for the man who still carried that pain.

“Why did he come here now, after all these years?” she asked.

“It seems he had a bit of a health scare and has a second chance to make things right.” Mark took a deep breath. “Can you believe he actually said that to me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “What are you going to do about him?”

“Nothing, just like he did about me for close to thirty years. I don’t have a place for him in my life.”

“Does your heart agree with your hard head, Mark?” She reached over and took his hand in hers.

“Both are in complete agreement.” He attempted a light hearted smile, but found it harder to produce than he thought. Emily didn’t need to be worrying about him tonight. He knew how hard it was for her to see Preston, especially at this time of year. “Enough about me, how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, really. Preston sends his love.” She squeezed his hand and stood to leave. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We were all worried about you tonight. It couldn’t have been easy for you to see him. Did you speak to Aimee? I know she was feeling bad about letting him in.”

“Yeah, we spoke earlier.” He lowered his head and readjusted the towel at his waist.

“Mark?” Emily knelt down and forced him to look at her. “Is there something else you want to talk about? Is there something else on your mind? Or someone?”

She’d always been able to read him like a book. Part of him wanted desperately to talk to her. But he knew she wouldn’t understand. She was a believer in true love. She’d never understand being torn between lust and distrust.

“Not at all, but thank you for checking on me, and I’m sorry I worried you by dodging the phone for a while. I needed to sort it out.”

He stood up, pulled her to her feet and studied her for a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your eyes show me more than just tired, they have
that
look.”

She kissed his cheek. “I’m good, I promise. Goodnight.” She started to walk away, stopped, and turned around. “For what it’s worth, the world is a better place when you let someone in. Trust your heart.”

He stood rooted to the cement as he watched her walk away. He wasn’t sure if she was still talking about his father, or if she knew something he didn’t. Or something he refused to believe.

Emily walked up the staircase eager for a hot bath and a full night’s sleep. Her emotions were on overload as she tried to shift her thoughts from Nathan and concentrate on Mark. She wasn’t sure how she could help him. The feelings he’d buried about his father were being forced to the surface and, for the first time in his life, Mark was in love. And fighting it with everything he had. He was a strong man with strong convictions. Sadly, he’d witnessed his mother’s heartbreak as well as hers. It hadn’t given him much faith in love.

Mark had been almost nine when Nathan died. He’d seen the joy that love could be and also saw the suffering that came from losing the one you love. It had taken two months for her to leave her room and close to a year before she’d found the strength to leave the house. During that time, she hadn’t packed Nathan’s things, nor let anyone else near them. For a time, she was inconsolable. A part of her had died with him.

It was Mark who pulled her out of the dark place she’d been. He spent hours curled up beside her on the bed telling her funny stories to cheer her up. He talked of faraway lands where Nathan and her little girl were together and happy. He’d tell of the messes they’d made for fun when she wasn’t there to scold them, the giant lake they swam in every day, and the ice cream castle they lived in.

He’d been her savior then, and it was a role he refused to give up now. She just prayed the pain he witnessed in her grief for Nathan, and the sorrow he’d endured as his own mother cried herself to sleep, wouldn’t stop him from embracing his own chance for happiness.

Lost in thought, she subconsciously walked to the far end of the hall and past her own bedroom. She was standing outside of the room she promised herself she wouldn’t enter this year. Placing her hand against the door, she could almost feel the love on the other side. Warm tears wet her cheeks as she mentally tried to talk herself out of going inside. Tonight she’d mourned Nathan all over again. She didn’t think she was strong enough to mourn another.