Her gaze locked with his, unrelenting, yet tempered with understanding. “If that’s true—and I’m not saying I believe it for a minute—then it’s time you told me why. The whole story, not bits and snatches.”
Ryan sighed at her reasonable request. “Yes, I do owe you an explanation, but not today. Your family’s waiting for you in there.”
“They’re waiting for both of us,” she corrected. “There are plenty of appetizers and Dad’s eggnog. They won’t mind waiting a little longer.”
So, he thought, this was it. “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”
“My room,” she said at once.
Ryan balked as if she’d suggested going upstairs to make love. “I am not going to your room with you, in front of your entire family. Are you nuts? What will they think?”
“That we’re looking for someplace private,” she replied reasonably. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a crowd in the kitchen keeping my mom company while she cooks. There’s a crowd in the den watching football. The kids are in the rec room downstairs. And there are at least a half dozen people in the living room listening to every word we’re saying right now. Do you have a better idea?”
He latched on to her hand, grabbed a coat off the rack by the door and dragged her outside to his car. He turned the heater up full blast, then turned to look at her. Only then did he realize that he’d mistakenly grabbed a coat belonging to someone much larger. She looked lost and more delicate than ever in the folds of dark-blue wool. Her wide eyes watched him warily as if she were uncertain what sort of storm she’d unleashed.
Before he could drag her to him and kiss her the way he desperately wanted to, he forced himself to take a deep breath and tell her everything—about the way his parents had run off, about the devastating day he’d been separated from his brothers, about the roller-coaster ride he’d taken through the foster care system, about Father Francis catching him just as he’d been about to break into a neighborhood quick-mart for something to eat on a bitterly cold Thanksgiving eve.
“It wasn’t the first time I’d broken into a store, and probably wouldn’t have been the last,” he told her, his gaze unflinching. “I was a thief.”
“You were a hungry kid,” she countered, her eyes overflowing with sympathetic tears.
“Don’t excuse what I did because you feel sorry for me,” he retorted sharply, hating that she seemed so eager to overlook the truth. “And don’t you dare pity me. I didn’t deserve it then, and I certainly don’t now. I knew right from wrong.”
“You were a boy,” she insisted, still fiercely defending him. “You were obviously desperate.”
“I was old enough to know better,” he countered just as harshly. “I was just a no-good brat. Obviously, my parents knew that.” He took a deep breath, then blurted the secret guilt he’d kept hidden in his heart for so long. “It’s why they left, why I could never fit in with any of the foster families.”
Maggie stared at him in shocked disbelief. “No,” she said, flatly refusing to accept his explanation. “Whatever the reason your parents left, it wasn’t that.”
Ryan was startled by the depth of her conviction. He wished he were half as convinced that he’d had no role to play in their leaving. What else was he to think, though? He’d been the oldest. If only he’d taken on more responsibility, behaved better, perhaps things would have been different.
“I’ve asked this before, but you’ve avoided answering. Have you ever tried to find them or your brothers?” she asked, her voice suddenly gentle.
He shook his head.
“I’ve asked before, but I’ll ask it again—why not?”
“Isn’t it obvious? They wanted no part of me or my brothers. Why should I go crawling after them?”
“If it were me, I’d want to know why they did it,” she said simply. “I’d have to know.”
“Some things defy explanation.”
“And some things are less painful when you’re old enough to understand the truth.”
“That’s nothing more than a bunch of psychological mumbo-jumbo and you know it,” he accused. “I don’t need it.”
“Then what do you need from me?”
He regarded her sadly. “Nothing,” he insisted, lying through his teeth. “Absolutely nothing.”
Maggie didn’t say a word, but she looked shattered. Before he realized what she intended, she was out of the car and running up the sidewalk. Ryan sat there, the open passenger door letting in the freezing air, and realized that never, not even on the day he’d been abandoned by his parents, had he felt quite so alone.
The pounding on the door to his apartment would have awakened the dead. Ryan scowled but didn’t budge from his chair. The drink he’d poured himself when he’d returned from Maggie’s was still full. Even as he’d filled the glass, he’d known the solution to his problems wasn’t alcohol. Unless he drank the whole blasted bottle it wouldn’t grant him the oblivion he sought.
“Dammit, I know you’re in there,” Rory shouted. “Open the door or I’ll have to break it down.”
Ryan sighed. He knew Rory was not only capable of such a thing but, given the heat in his voice, probably even eager to do it. He crossed the room in three long strides and threw open the door.
“What is your problem?” he demanded.
“I’m not the one with the problem,” Rory said.
“Oh?”
“Maggie called. She’s worried about you.”
“She shouldn’t be,” Ryan said.
“Then call her and tell her that.”
“I don’t think so.” As horrendous as this pain in his chest was, he knew that dragging Maggie back into his life wasn’t going to work. It was better that they end this with a clean break.
Rory noted the glass of scotch beside his chair. “I thought you didn’t drink.”
“I rarely drink. There’s a difference,” Ryan said. “And if you nose around a little more closely, you’ll see that I haven’t touched that drink, either.”
Rory gave a nod. “That’s okay, then.
