She rushed toward the elevators. Before that fall tripped her. Before the pain consumed her. Before she lost herself forever.
Inside the elevator, tears slipped free. Her breath caught and clogged her throat. Every part of her ached.
But she was more than a broken heart. She had to be more. Had to be better for her daughter.
She was a mom now. And moms raised strong children only by being strong.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ONE WEEK AFTER his hearing, one week after he’d lost Molly and one week back in his old life, Drew stood at the wall of windows in his office at Capstone Keyes and watched the city wake up. Each bus that pulled to the nearby stop off-loaded more and more people, clutching briefcases, coffee tumblers and newspapers. The line at Roasted Vibes Café down the street started to extend onto the sidewalk. Lights turned on in the office high-rises surrounding the Capstone Keyes’ top floor suite.
He’d arrived at work early, as was his long-standing habit. He was often the first one to his desk and the last one to leave. That routine had served him well for years. He’d thrived on work. Been content devoting his life to it. Until recently.
Staring out at the city wasn’t productive. Drew turned his back on the view and he hoped on the discontent simmering beneath his skin. He had work to accomplish. Time to get to it.
He draped his suit jacket over one of the empty chairs at the small conference table and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. As if his suit were responsible for his discontent. Once he dove into his research, he’d lose himself in the work again. Find his balance and his satisfaction.
“So, this is the view from the thirtieth floor.” Brad walked into Drew’s office and stood beside him at the windows. “Views all the way to the bay. Nice. I can see why you’re distracted.”
“I’m collecting my thoughts.” Drew tugged on his sleeve, pulling the material into perfect folds. He recognized how irritable he sounded.
“Care to share any of your thoughts?” Meanwhile, his brother’s voice sounded mild and compassionate.
Curiosity poked at Drew, turning him cranky. “Shouldn’t you be at home with Sophie and the twins? And Ella.”
“Ella had to be at school early for a student council meeting.” Brad slapped Drew on the shoulder as if stamping his good humor onto Drew. “The twins and Sophie are asleep. I’m all yours for the next two hours.”
No. Drew wasn’t entertaining company. He was working. Or he was supposed to be. “I have research to do. My first case for the firm.”
Brad rubbed his hands together and sat down at the conference table. “I can help.”
Drew set his hands on his hips. “You’re here to escape crying babies, aren’t you?” He should take pity on his brother, but he couldn’t find any empathy.
“I’m here to check on my brother.”
“Really?” Drew challenged. He didn’t need anyone to check on him. He was back in his old life. Everything was perfect. The lie caught like an animal trapped in a snare. “Ella told me the boys are hearty criers.”
“They are. In stereo.” Brad laughed. “I wouldn’t change it.”
“You’re lying.” His brother wanted something to change. Everyone wanted change. “Ella asked if she could move in with me.”
Brad sobered. “That’s not happening.”
Drew crossed his arms over his chest. His voice defensive. “I’d be happy to take great care of her. She’s my niece.”
“I know you would.” Love and warmth tracked across Brad’s face and into his words. “But I’m her Dad. It’s my job.”
Dad. The word settled inside Drew’s chest. Ella wasn’t Brad’s biological daughter. But he was her dad in every way that mattered. The same as Hazel wasn’t Drew’s. And yet he cared about the little girl like... He sideswiped that thought. “You’re good at the whole family thing. The dad thing.”
“You would be too if you let yourself,” Brad offered.
Drew moved to the conference table, rolled out a chair and sat. “This is about you, not me.”
“You shut Molly out, didn’t you?” Brad braced his hands on the chair across the table and shook his head at Drew. “That’s why you two aren’t together.”
“Molly was my legal counsel.” His voice was monotone like a prerecorded message. No surprise. He’d been repeating those same words to himself for the past week. “The hearing is over.” Now Molly and he were too.
“Your relationship was much more than professional.” Brad stood and wandered around Drew’s office, eventually stopping at the floor-to-ceiling built-in shelves covering the back wall.
Drew had unpacked his office boxes last week. Filled the shelves with his legal texts. The scales of justice paperweight waited on his desk. The executive pen set he’d placed in a desk drawer. The hourglass and antique mantel clock waited on another shelf. He hadn’t even wound the clock or set it to the correct time. As for the coffee mug from Ella, that Drew had left at home. On his bedside table. But that wasn’t anything he needed to share or explain.
Brad turned the hourglass over and set it on a different shelf.
Drew rose. “What are you doing?”
“It’s all very impersonal in here.” Brad waved his hand at the shelves and then moved the mantel clock.
“Moving it doesn’t change things.” No matter where Drew moved the picture of Molly and him with Santa, he still returned it to the coffee mug beside his bed. Preferring that picture to be the first thing he saw in the morning. Drew returned the clock to its original place. “I prefer it this way.”
“You prefer things as they are?” Brad studied Drew. His gaze clear and entirely too perceptive. “Exactly like this?”
Drew held his brother’s stare, refused to blink and nodded. Although the doubt he ignored.
“Now who’s lying?” Brad shoved him on the shoulder and dropped into one of the leather chairs reserved for clients as if he intended to spend
