Blinking backtears, Emma bit back a sob. She went into the bathroom and washedher face and then snatched up her purse.
She couldn’tstay in this suffocating room for a moment longer.
Alcohol wasnever the answer. Emma didn’t understand people who couldn’tconfront their problems; instead choosing to drink them away. Itdidn’t solve anything.
But now, forthe first time, she was beginning to understand the appeal.
She just wantedthe pain and chaos in her head to stop for a moment. One drinkwould do it. And since Amber and Tash weren’t here, and she didn’twant to burden them with this when they were so far away, Emmaheaded for the bar.
Slippingthrough the crowded foyer, Emma walked in and headed for an emptyseat. Despite it being the middle of the afternoon, there wereplenty of people drinking and laughing and not understanding thather world had just come crashing down.
“Bloody Mary.”Emma told the bartender.
He set thedrink in front of her. Emma placed her tip on the bar, but thebartender had already moved away. She spent a moment trying tocatch his eye and then gave up. She folded her arms on the bar andswallowed to keep the tears at bay.
Emma had beenso determined to succeed without Michelle’s or not-Dad’s approval,and even though she had, there was always a little voice in theback of her head whispering that she wasn’t quite good enough. Whyhadn’t he taken them both?
Now sheknew.
Emma had hadtwo long term relationships in her life. Both had ended because ofher fear of being abandoned again.
Could she blamenot-Dad for that? Why, yes. Yes, she could.
“You look how Ifeel.”
The deep voicewith the Australian accent penetrated her thoughts and Emma turned.For a single second relief surged through her at the familiaraccent but then she recognised the man behind it. “You again? Youkeep turning up like a bad smell.”
Lachlan slidonto the stool next to her at the bar and ordered a whiskey. Heleft the tip on the bar, caught the bartender’s eye and nodded tohim.
Ah. Sothat’s how it was done.
He cast her alook from the corner of his eye. “Do you think we could perhaps sithere together and wallow in our misery in silence?”
She removed hersunglasses and studied him. Today his dark brown hair was slightlymussed and two dark shadows had settled beneath troubled browneyes. He’d said he’d arrived a couple of days before her butperhaps his jetlag hadn’t worn off. He wore a white shirt with thesleeves rolled up and a pair of charcoal dress pants. The musclesin his forearm flexed as he reached for his glass. His throatworked as he swallowed and she suppressed a shiver.
“What?”
Emma blinked.He was staring at her like she was an alien just landed from space.“I beg your pardon?”
“Why are youstaring at me?”
“Why did yousit next to me? We’re not friends.”
“I just need adrink.”
“At thishour?”
He lifted aneyebrow and shifted his gaze to the drink on the bar in front ofher.
Whoops.
She picked itup, took a sip and tried not to wince at the taste. “Why are youmiserable?”
“What?”
“You said wecould sit here and wallow in our misery in silence. Why areyou miserable?”
Lachlan foldedhis arms on the bar and stared at his drink. “My daughter gotmarried today.”
That’s right.He’d mentioned something about a wedding that night in the bar whenshe’d tried to apologise and he’d thrown it back in her face.“Well, I flew more than seven thousand miles to meet my sister andmy father whom I haven’t seen in over twenty years.” Emma took along sip of her drink and it burned all the way down herthroat.
“I gave heraway like an old pair of shoes that don’t fit anymore.”
“It turns outmy dad is not my dad, and my sister doesn’t want to know me.”Humiliation scorched her veins as she remembered the condescendinglook in Michelle’s eyes—no, dammit. She wasn’t Michelle anymore.She was Mishka. A stranger. Michelle was the kind and lovingbig sister who’d held Emma’s hand when they crossed the street, andwho’d thrown stones at the mean boys when they’d laughed at Emmawhen she fell off the swing in the park.
But Michellehad been replaced by Mishka The Sociopath, and Dad was not-Dad.
Her shoulderssagged slightly as warmth from her drink slowly spread through herbody. “I came all this way and they walked away from me again.”
“I don’t gethow a parent can simply walk away from their child.”
And yet, Emma’sclass was full of kids from single parent families and foster care.Her own situation of being raised by a single mother certainlywasn’t unique. And while she didn’t play favourites with herstudents, she always allowed a few extra moments to spend withthose kids each day, just to let them know that someone cared.
“My daughter’smother ran out on us when Sarah was two.”
Emma choked onher drink. “Jeez. Wow. How can somebody do that?”
“We were young,barely out of school. Neither of us was prepared for parenthood.But that doesn’t mean you just walk away, you know? You take astand. Figure it out. Do your best.”
If only herfather had picked both of them. Emma’s life would be sodifferent.
But would it,really? Mum had worked hard to give Emma what she’d needed.Although Emma had been devastated by Dad and Michelle leaving,she’d still done the best she could. She’d finished school,graduated from university, and landed a sought-after position at aninner-city primary school. She’d dedicated her life to her studentsand the school. If her father had stuck around, would her life lookany different?
She needed timeto sort through all the conflicting emotions raging through herbody and to deal with the bombshell not-Dad had dropped on her.Despite what he’d said, Emma found she could already forgive hermother. Whatever the reason Mum had done what she did, she’d neverturned her back on Emma.
“That was yourdaughter with you, the other night?”
“Sarah, yes.”Pride radiated in his voice.
Emma swallowed.What would it have been like, having a parent so proud of her? Mumwas, she knew that. Mum had done her best, not quite getting overthe abandonment either. At least Mum had chosen Emma and been proudof her.
“It must havebeen hard to raise her by
