Ask Adam (26 page)

Lexi numbly chose a chair opposite him, eyeing the bag cautiously. What was it? Her attention flicked from Adam to the parcel and then, because she couldn’t keep her eyes off him, back to Adam. His beautiful face was expressionless. She couldn’t read it, couldn’t find a clue as to what the parcel might contain.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Open it.”

What the hell was it? A peace offering? A restraining order?

“It won’t bite. I promise.” Was that an attempt at a joke? She looked at him. No. No humor in his eyes, just a steady intensity that made her heart race.

Her silence hung around her. She hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived, couldn’t think of a single intelligible thing to say. Better than shooting her mouth off, she supposed, and saying something she’d regret later.

Her behavior was a little surprising—being that her usual modus operandi was to dive headfirst into whatever situation she was presented with.

This was different. Her future happiness rode on this meeting and she wouldn’t blow it. Fate wouldn’t be so kind as to call again and offer her another chance. Better to remain quiet until she found the appropriate words to tell him she wasn’t pregnant, to convince him she’d never trap him.

While her head and heart spun crazily, her body danced to an unsteady beat, responding on base instinct to Adam’s presence. Every nerve ending tingled. He was here, meters away, and the physical awareness sent goosebumps skittering over her skin.

The bag lay unopened between them until inquisitiveness got the better of her and she picked it up shakily and peaked inside.

Naturally.

A rational sentence finally formed in her head. “This isn’t necessary,” she told him, thinking it nothing less than a miracle that she could talk. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth.

“Yes it is,” he countered. “I’m a responsible man and I hold myself accountable for my actions.”

Lexi gave him a hollow smile and tossed the package on the table. The pregnancy test spilled out. “I don’t need it, Adam. I’m not pregnant.”

“You’re not?” He sat up straight. “How do you know?”

“Because,” she told him, “I got my period.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. Frowned. “I…uh… Oh,” he said again.

He sank back in his chair, silent, and she gave him a minute to digest the news. He’d spent three weeks wondering, and in a second he’d discovered the answer. He needed the time.

Inscrutable emotion filtered through his eyes as he stared past her. Finally, he nodded. “There is no baby.”

Was it her imagination or did he seem disappointed?

“No, Adam, much to your relief, I’m sure, there is no baby.” She put the test back in the bag and pushed it across the table. “You’re free to leave now.” She prayed to God he wouldn’t. He’d come to her of his own volition—to take care of unfinished business. Now that the business was settled, what reason did he have to remain? “You’ve fulfilled your duty. You’ve got your answer. There really is no reason for you to be here any longer.” She hesitated before adding, “Is there?”

Her insides danced wildly, nervous tremors taking over. Would he want to stay?

He looked up at her. “I’m a real bastard, aren’t I?”

At least he hadn’t stood. At least he wasn’t headed for the door. She took a minute to contemplate his question. His demeanor was different somehow. He was different. She couldn’t pin down exactly how. He just wasn’t the same.

“You can be,” she answered carefully, terrified she might scare him off with her honesty. He had acted like an asshole the other night—but then, he’d been provoked.

“My behavior was inexcusable.”

She didn’t contradict him. She couldn’t have if she wanted to. Her heart hammered so loud it was impossible to hear her thoughts, never mind voice them.

“I know you would never do anything as deplorable as trap me with an unplanned pregnancy.”

Oh, thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
She almost wept at his words. Any strength she had in her arms drained out through her hands, and her shoulders sagged at the reprieve he’d given her.

It took a ridiculous amount of effort but she managed to collect her wits about her and answer in a steady voice. “I’m glad you understand that.” She wasn’t ready to let her guard down. He’d hurt her deeply and a simple acknowledgement of her innocence wasn’t enough.

“I was a complete prick and I apologize.”

She should just accept his apology and end the conversation now. Sitting this close to him was too difficult. She wanted to touch him, wanted to tear his clothes off and mold herself to his naked body
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but that was out of the question. It would be much wiser to just ask him to leave so she wouldn’t have to endure the torment.

She couldn’t ask. There were too many burning issues she needed resolved. Too many reasons she wanted him to stay.

“What would you have done, Adam? If I were pregnant?” Suddenly she was desperate to know.

He sighed. “Does it matter now?”

“Yes, it does.” He hadn’t just abandoned her. He’d come back to take responsibility. The question was, what kind of responsibility would he have taken? The responsibility of raising another child? Financial responsibility? Or the responsibility of ensuring she had a termination?

A muscle worked in his jaw. “Whatever needed doing.”

“Uh uh. Too vague.” She wanted specifics. “What would you have done?”

He sighed and stared behind her at a point on the wall she couldn’t see.

“I went home,” he said. “Back to Perth.”

That wasn’t an answer. “I’m not following you…”

“I haven’t been back in almost ten years. Not since I filed for divorce.”

If she’d thought she was good at diversionary tactics, Adam was obviously an expert. Despite herself, she was sucked into his narrative. He’d told her he couldn’t stay in Perth after Timmy’s death, told her he hated everything the city represented, and yet he’d gone there now. “I thought you were in Hong Kong.”

“I was. I went to Perth afterwards. I just got back.”

Which explained why he wasn’t in Sydney this last week. “Why did you go?”

“Because of you. Because of me.” He kept staring at the invisible point behind her back. She studied him silently, gave him space to gather his thoughts. Noticed again that he seemed different somehow. Less removed, maybe?

“I went to visit Timmy. To spend some time with…” He cleared his throat. “To spend some time at his grave, to speak to him a little.”

“Oh my God.” Stunned, she swallowed down an unexpected lump in her throat. After their argument, she never dreamed she’d hear him say that. Never thought for one second he’d face his past head-on. “You did?”

“I went to say goodbye.” He finally looked at her. Where she expected to see heartache and pain, all she found was quiet calm. The haunted quality that usually shadowed his eyes was gone. “And to let go of my anger. You were right. I’d been holding on to it too tight.”

She floundered, overwhelmed by his confession. “That couldn’t have been easy.” Her throat was all clogged up.

“It wasn’t. It got ugly. You ever see a grown man cry?” His laugh was empty and trailed off as her answer hung silently between them. She’d seen
him
cry.

If he stayed here much longer, he’d see her cry. She was barely holding it together.

“I can’t say I’m not sad anymore. I am. I always will be. I can’t even say I’ve accepted Timmy’s death. But I guess I’m coming to terms with it. Learning to live with it.”

He’d done it. He’d taken a giant leap and faced his grief over Timmy’s death. Dear God, that must have been impossible. It must have ripped his world apart. Nevertheless, he’d done it. He’d survived.

That’s when she worked out what was different about him. He’d lost his edginess. The cold detachment was gone. Before her sat a man who was ready to participate in life again. Ready to live—and not just exist.

Would he want to include her in that new life? Please,
please,
let her be included.

The suspense drove her crazy. She was an emotional wreck, pretending to be objective when she was so crazy in love with him she could hardly see straight. Her stomach was a mass of wobbly jelly.

She couldn’t let him see what he did to her. Not yet, not until he’d told her about Perth, about Timmy. “You seem different,” she said instead, giving him an honest assessment. “It’s almost as if you’re less aloof, less angry with the world.” Less angry with her.

“I am,” he said. “Or at least I’m starting to be.”

“You can’t be healed overnight,” she cautioned. Yes, he was different. Still, grief took a long time to overcome. She’d hate for him to have false expectations.

“I can’t be happy overnight either. I can be happier. I am.” He paused. “I went to see the boys.”

“Tracey’s sons?” Holy shit. He’d scaled mountains without her.

He nodded. “Timmy’s brothers.”

“Adam… Where did you find the courage?” His heart must have hammered when he’d been introduced. Adrenalin must have taken over, let him run on autopilot.

“It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be.” His answer was a sharp contrast to her conjectures. “I guess I’d just built them up in my mind, made them into something they’re not.”

How’d he do that? Clear such an enormous hurdle without even touching the bar? What about his biggest fear? Had it come to bear? “Did they…did either of them look like Timmy?”

He shook his head. “Not really, no. Can you believe that? All this time that’s what kept me away. There were definite similarities. Corey, the younger one, has the same quirky smile and behaves the way Timmy used to. That could be regular three-year-old behavior and not specific to brothers.”

He was so okay with it, Lexi thought. So…unaffected.

“Jason has the same hair color but other than that, nothing. I think whatever else I recognized in them was more their resemblance to Tracey than anything.” He shrugged. “They’re good kids, both of them. But they’re not Timmy.”

“Did you…are you okay?” What an inadequate question. It didn’t begin to cover everything he must have experienced.

“Actually, yeah. It was harder to drive to the house and ring the doorbell than it was to talk to them. The anticipation was far worse than the reality.” He leaned forward, rested his hands on her table.

She found herself staring at his long, strong fingers, resisting the impulse to take them and hold on for dear life.

“It’s a relief, you know, to realize I can be around kids again and not resent them for living when my child didn’t. You were right. It wasn’t anybody’s fault that Timmy died. It was just something that happened. Something I couldn’t prevent. Something no one could prevent.” He looked into her eyes. “You helped me see that, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

He’d done it because of her and because of their mistake. He’d done it because he’d thought she might be pregnant, and he needed to confront his past before he could deal with his present. He’d done it because, because… She couldn’t continue her line of thought. He’d done it. That was all that was important.

And then he smiled at her, gave her one of those traffic-stopping smiles, and her heart crashed into her ribcage, which in turn smashed through any previous resolve to hold back until he’d finished speaking. The walls of the dam burst open and everything came tumbling out of her mouth. She couldn’t stop the words. Didn’t even try.

“I love you, Adam Riley. I don’t care if you’ve sworn off ever loving again or you don’t want a future with me. I love you. I love that you tried to let me into your life and I love that you came back when you thought I was pregnant
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even though you don’t want children.” She started to cry. “I love how much you love your son and I love how hard you’ve tried to come to terms with his death.”

She took a deep breath, tried to stem the tears and only cried harder. She cried for all his pain and she cried for Timmy. She cried because she loved him and she cried because she’d been through three weeks of hell. She cried because although he’d come so far, she still didn’t think he was capable of returning her love. Lastly, she cried because she couldn’t help it.