Astrid stuck out her lower lip. “That’s adorable.”
“I know. It is.” Astrid wasn’t making this any easier. He brushed away a piece of lint on his trouser leg, searching for words. “Miranda didn’t want to let it go because I told her before we went to Los Angeles that I was struggling with my attraction to you and I didn’t want anything to happen.”
Her eyes flashed as if she was trying to solve a mystery and she’d just had her “aha” moment. “Was that why you were angry when we ended up in the same room?”
“I wouldn’t say I was angry.”
“Annoyed. Miffed. Irked. Those are all emotions you direct at me.”
He sat forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, running his hands up over his face and back through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry I do that. It’s just that...”
“I don’t need your apologies. I just want to know what’s really going on here. This feels like so much more than the fact that we work together. It feels like so much more than you not wanting to get involved. So, please. Explain it to me so I can understand.”
“I can’t bring myself to trust a woman again, Astrid.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s the essence of it, yes. My ex-wife destroyed any faith I ever had in love, which wasn’t much to begin with. You know, Miranda and I have been on our own since we were young. Our mother left us with our grandmother, who was furious that her only daughter stuck her with such a huge responsibility.”
“I didn’t know about that.” Her voice was so soft and understanding, it nearly broke his heart.
“But, somehow, I fell in love when I met my ex-wife. Or at least I thought it was love. Obviously it wasn’t, because she left, too. And when she did, she took my trust and Delia’s along with it.” The emotion was welling up inside him, threatening to overflow. He wouldn’t let it. He had to stay in control. But still, it was easier if he kept directing his stare down at the carpet. One look at Astrid and it would be all over. “Do you have any idea how confused Delia was? The number of times she woke up in the middle of the night and wanted her mom and all she had was me? As hard as my childhood was, that was harder, and that was all while I was trying to get over a broken heart.”
Astrid scooted closer on the couch and placed her hand on his shoulder. “You really loved her, didn’t you?”
“I did. She was everything. She was sweet and kind and beautiful. She was generous and giving.” There it was. There was the essence of what was eating away at him from the inside. He turned his head and felt brave enough to look Astrid in the eye. “She was so much like you. Or at least she pretended to be. At first.”
Astrid froze for a moment and dropped her head, then pinched the bridge of her nose as if she had the worst headache in the world. He knew he was doing that to her and the realization killed him. “I’m not your ex-wife, Clay. If I seem to have some of the same qualities, I’m not the same person. I could never, ever do the things that she did. Lying to my husband? Stealing his money? Leaving behind my child? Never.”
“So you know the whole story. I don’t even have to tell you.” He sat back in his seat and shook his head. Here he’d thought he would need to come clean and she already knew.
“I didn’t know about your mom. Miranda told me the rest. The night she helped me pick out my dress. It was only because she cares about you so deeply. I didn’t say anything because you don’t like it when I get too personal.”
“And then I went and made things extra personal the other night.” Should he be regretting his decision to sleep with Astrid? He didn’t want to.
“No. We both did that. I wanted that. I needed it.” She took his hand and pulled it into her lap, stroking his palm with her fingers. “I don’t regret it. I won’t. I refuse.” She sucked in a breath so deep it made her shoulders rise up around her ears. “But it did mean something to me. It meant a lot. When I tried to act all nonchalant the next morning, that was a lie. That wasn’t what I was really thinking.” Her wide eyes scanned his face, as if she was looking for some sort of answer.
“If we can’t be honest with each other, I don’t see how we could ever be involved.”
“I was protecting myself. You’re doing the same thing. I don’t see a difference. Would it have made it easier that morning if I had protested? Begged you to want more from me? I won’t do that, Clay. I do have some self-respect.” She got up from the sofa, dropped the second half of her cookie in the bakery bag and threw it in the trash. “Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe we need to accept that and move on.”
“I hate that word. Mistake.”
“And yet you use it all the time. I’m guessing it’s gone through your head many times as pertains to me.”
“If anyone made a mistake, it was me.”
She shook her head in disbelief. There was also some disdain mixed in with her expression. This was what he deserved—her scorn. “Thanks. That makes me feel even worse.” She reached for the doorknob and he bolted up from the couch.
“Astrid. Wait. Stop.”
She
