“Really?”
Then he had to go and ruin it by adding, “But it won’t last. It never does. Besides, appearances can be deceiving. Look at all the years my folks made each other miserable. The world thought they were just fine, and then it all blew up and my mom walked away.”
“And yet somehow you thought you and I could go on forever, as long as we didn’t legalize it,” she said. “Can’t you see how absurd that is?”
“Maybe it doesn’t make any sense to you, but I can’t change how I feel,” he said defensively. This time he put a halt to the topic. “Look, Gram wanted me to be sure you’re coming for Easter dinner tomorrow. Will you be there?”
Heather thought of how wonderful it felt being part of that big, rambunctious family, especially on holidays, but it was wrong. She wasn’t an O’Brien, and keeping up the pretense that she was hurt too much. She’d learned that on Connor’s prior visit.
“I think tomorrow little Mick and I will spend Easter on our own,” she said.
Connor’s gaze narrowed. “Because of me,” he guessed. “Look, please don’t stay away and keep little Mick from being there to hunt for eggs with his cousins. If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll go back to Baltimore in the morning. No one was expecting me to be here this weekend, anyway. It won’t be a big deal if I take off.”
“Absolutely not. This is your family, and you should spend the holiday with them. I’m the one who doesn’t belong.”
“That’s not true,” he argued. “You’ve come to mean a lot to all of them, especially my parents. And our son should be there.”
He held her gaze. “Please, Heather. Don’t let me chase you away.”
She sighed and relented, though not without real regret. Every time she saw him, it was now clear it was going to reopen old wounds. “Okay, we’ll come as long as we don’t chase you away, either.”
Connor regarded her with relief. “Fine. I’ll be there, too.” He pulled a stool over to the counter, sat down and studied her with an intense expression. “You know what I don’t get?”
She regarded him with amusement. “What’s that?”
“We were together for years. I thought we knew each other inside out, that we could talk about anything. Now we can barely be in the same room without things turning awkward.”
“That’s what happens when people break up, Connor. Some manage to reestablish the relationship on new ground. Others don’t. Even the ones who pull off becoming friends take some time to do it. Can you imagine some of the couples whose divorces you’ve handled sitting down for a holiday meal with the whole family?”
“Not a chance,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “Right now, for instance, I’m handling the Clint Wilder divorce. I’m not sure I’d want to have a meal with him. I can’t even imagine how his wife must feel.”
Heather regarded him with shock. “You actually recognize that she has a right to be furious about what he did?”
“Well, of course I do.”
“And yet from what I read in the paper, you seem to think she’s going to get very little in the divorce settlement.”
“You’re following the tabloids?” he asked, looking startled. “That’s not your usual reading material.”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t miss it when I was standing in line at the checkout counter. A very compromising picture of Wilder and the other woman was splashed all over the front page. I recognized the name and had a feeling you’d be involved since he’s been living in Baltimore.”
His lips curved into a satisfied smile. “You checked it out because of me?”
“Don’t let it go to your head. Of course I was curious.” The truth was, a feeling of dread had settled over her when she’d looked for Connor’s name in the article. Finding him linked to the messy divorce was one more depressing example of the kind of choices Connor was making in his career, the sort of people by whom he was surrounded.
“And you don’t approve?” he said, his tone suddenly flat.
“It’s not up to me to approve or disapprove,” she said.
“But you do have an opinion, and I’m sure I can guess what it is. You think I’m working for one more sleazy guy who’s trying to get out of a marriage without paying for the consequences of his actions.”
She saw no reason to deny it. “Aren’t you?”
“Heather, you’re not my conscience,” he retorted.
“Believe me, I know that. Didn’t I just say it wasn’t up to me to approve or disapprove?”
He sighed. “And yet your opinion still matters to me,” he admitted. As if he hated having made the admission, he held up his hands to ward off a response. “I’d better take off now. Gram wants my help tonight. She’s cooking a ham down at her cottage and she wants me to carry it up to the house.”
Heather considered trying to stop him, trying to make him understand her point of view, but she knew it was pointless. They’d had the same conversation too many times before and it almost always ended the same way…in a bitter standoff. Even when she thought she’d gotten through to him, his choices proved she’d wasted her breath.
“See you tomorrow, then,” she said, instead.
As soon as he’d gone, she locked the shop door behind him, then gathered up little Mick and took him upstairs to their apartment to face another lonely evening. It didn’t help knowing that it didn’t have to be this way. If only she were willing to compromise on what she wanted, she could be with Connor tonight and every night for the foreseeable future.
As tempting as that was, though, she knew it would never be enough without a real commitment for a lifetime. And she simply had to accept that such a commitment was something he was incapable of making.
* * *
An hour later, Heather had fed little Mick and put
