Susan Mallery - Almost Perfect

The grin faded into a straight line. “About that,” he reflected, then shrugged. “I was a kid and a jerk. I’m sorry.”

As apologies went, it wasn’t much of one. Not when compared to his incredible rejection of both her and their son, but Ethan had never been big on accepting responsibility for his relationships.

For him, it was all about how things looked. After all, he was a Hendrix. A member of the founding family. Upholder of all things good and right. A girl from the wrong side of the tracks was good enough to sleep with, but a guy like Ethan would never want anything more.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “I didn’t know my brother had moved back and I didn’t know about his daughters. Until Melissa wrote me. That’s why I’m here. It’ll be two weeks. Three at most. I’ll stay out of your way, just like you asked.” Commanded was more like it, but this didn’t seem like a good time to bring that up. She was tired and dealing with too much already. A fight with Ethan would only complicate the situation.

She shook her head, her temper rising just a little. “But I will point out you don’t own the town, and you don’t have any right to tell me where I can or can’t be.”

“I know,” he said, moving a step toward her. “Would it help if I said I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

The lazy smile returned. The one that always had the ability to make her stomach flip over a couple dozen times.

“I wanted to welcome you back,” he continued. “And tell you I think it’s great you’ve been successful with your books. Even though I’m not sure I like the part where you kill me over and over again.”

Now he wasn’t the only one who was confused, she thought. He wanted to talk about her books?

“You deserved it,” she retorted. “And technically I haven’t killed you at all.”

“Then why do your victims always have a more than passing resemblance to me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Which was a lie.

“Right.”

The smile left again as he took another step toward her. A step that put him a little too close.

“Eleven years ago I was a jerk,” he said. “I admit it and I’m sorry. That’s what I came by to say.”

“What?” She dropped her hands to her hips and glared at him. “That’s it? After everything that happened the last time I came to town you want to talk about that?”

His eyebrows drew together. “What last time?”

“Five years ago, I came back to speak to you. Instead I had a very awkward conversation with your wife. You were out of town. Then I received your letter a few days later.”

The frown deepened. “What?”

She wanted to shriek. “I came here to talk to you. To tell you about Tyler. I saw Rayanne, who said you were out of town. About ten days later, I got a letter from you telling me you didn’t want anything to do with either of us. To stay away from Fool’s Gold and that if I came back, you’d make sure I regretted it.”

The frown turned into an expression of dismissal. “I accept that what I did all those years ago was stupid and mean, and I’m sorry. As for this crap-don’t bring my wife into your stories.”

She stiffened. “Stories? You think I’m lying? I spoke to your wife five years ago. You wrote me a letter. I still have it.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t write you a letter. You didn’t see-” He hesitated. “I don’t know if you saw Rayanne or not. I could have been traveling. I saw you in town earlier today, so I came by to say hello and apologize. That’s it.” His gaze sharpened. “Who’s Tyler? Your husband? You’re married?”

Oh, God. Liz sank back on the step. Thoughts and memories flooded her, making it impossible to pick just one. The early past intruded first-reminding her how much she’d once loved Ethan. How he’d convinced her to trust him, had told her that he loved her. She’d given herself to him on a starry night, by the lake. Desperate emotion hadn’t been enough to make her first time not hurt, and he’d held her when she had cried.

They’d planned on her joining him at his college, because being together in Fool’s Gold was impossible. Not that his family was especially rich, but because they were respectable. Something Liz Sutton could never be.

She remembered him and his friends at the diner where she worked after school. How his friend Josh had mentioned seeing Ethan with her. As clearly as if it was happening right now, in front of her, she recalled Ethan’s discomfort. He’d said she was a piece of ass-but not anyone he could be interested in. He’d denied her, had denied them. She’d heard every word.

Maybe if she’d been older she would have understood why he’d said what he did. Or if he’d been more mature or stronger, he could have stood up to his friends. Instead he had hurt her and she’d reacted. She’d walked over to the table, picked up the chocolate milk shake she’d brought him only minutes before and thrown it in his face. Then she’d walked out. She’d quit her job, packed a bag and run away to San Francisco.

Three weeks later, she’d figured out she was pregnant.

She’d returned to town, prepared to tell Ethan, only to find him in bed with someone else. She’d run again. This time she’d been determined to make it on her own. But five years ago, as Tyler had been getting ready to enter first grade, she’d decided to make another attempt to tell Ethan. Which had led to the conversation with his wife and the letter telling her that he didn’t want anything to do with her and his son.

None of this made sense, she thought. Ethan was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He wouldn’t just forget about his own child. Unless he really hadn’t been told. Which meant his wife had kept the information of Liz’s visit from him.

“Liz?” His voice was low. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” She pushed to her feet. “At the risk of repeating myself, Rayanne never told you that I came to see you?”

“That’s right.”

“You never wrote me a letter.”

“No.”

“So you don’t know about any of this?”

“Any of what?” he asked.

She sucked in a breath. She’d known there was a good chance she would run into Ethan again. Or his wife. Or both. But she’d never imagined anything like this.

“I came back to see you five years ago,” she began. “No, I came back a few weeks after I left, but you were in bed with Pia.”

“What?” He stiffened. “I didn’t…” He half turned away, then faced her again. “It’s not what you think.”

“I thought you were both naked and in bed,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “It doesn’t matter. Screwing around with Pia isn’t the point.”

“I didn’t screw around.”

“No? Then your intense and meaningful relationship isn’t the point, either. I came back to tell you that I was pregnant. When I saw you in bed with Pia, I took off. I was too hurt, too angry. You’d denied me in public and then slept with one of the girls who delighted in tormenting me.”

She squared her shoulders. “More irrelevance, right? The point is, I always wanted you to know. So I showed up here five years ago to tell you about Tyler. I spoke to Rayanne and told her. Then I got a letter from you saying you didn’t want anything to do with me or Tyler and to stay away from town.” A letter apparently written by Rayanne.

Ethan stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. Emotions flashed across his face. Disbelief, confusion, anger.

“Tyler isn’t your husband?”

“He’s my son. Your son. He’s eleven. And he’s here.”

ETHAN HEARD THE WORDS BUT THEY made no sense to him. Son? As in a kid? An eleven-year-old boy who was his?

“You never told me.”

The words came from him, although he couldn’t feel himself speaking. He was still trying to make sense of the information. A baby? No. Not a baby. A child. His child.

“I did tell you,” Liz reiterated, putting her hands back on her hips, looking as if she was prepared to take him on. “I just explained that. I’ll admit I didn’t make much of an effort when I came back the first time, but the whole naked-in-bed-with-Pia was more than I could handle. I came back a second time.”

“Stop.” He glared at her, anger growing. “You’re lying.”

“I told you-I still have the letter. I can have my assistant send it overnight. It will be here day after tomorrow.”

He knew there wasn’t a letter, mostly because he’d never written one.

He turned and walked back to the gate, before facing the house again. Liz stood silhouetted in the glare of the porch light. He’d been so damned happy to see her. He’d wanted to come talk to her. Now this.

“How the hell can you stand there and tell me I have an eleven-year-old son I’ve never known about?” He stalked toward her, fury growing. “You didn’t bother to tell me that you were pregnant? What gives you the right?” He swore.

“I did try to tell you,” she countered. “You were too busy screwing Pia.”

He grabbed her arm. “I don’t care if I was burning down the entire town. You were pregnant with my child, and I had the right to know.”

She jerked free. He let her, mostly because of how he’d been raised. It was the right thing to do.

“I cared,” she snapped. “I cared a lot. You were supposed to love me. You convinced me it was safe to love you back. You took my virginity, then let someone call me a whore in front of all your friends.”

“None of that matters.”

“Of course it matters. It speaks to who you are as a person. It’s the reason I didn’t try very hard.”

The unfairness of the accusation burned. “I was a kid,” he growled.

“So was I. Eighteen, alone and pregnant. If you expect a break, then I get one, too.”

“No. It’s not the same. He’s my child. You deliberately kept us apart for years.”