daughter struggled, and I couldn’t make that situation better. So, for a while, I quit trying. Stuck to journalism.” She murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But I never loved the crazy hours. It’s part of why Ken and I broke up.”
I sat back, loving that her cheeks were pink from being outdoors and maybe even embarrassment. “Part?”
She smoothed her top, her fingers plucking at a small thread. “I liked my work. Most of the time, anyway. I really liked being the boss. I’d been promoted at twenty-seven to the top spot, the youngest woman in the country.” Pride straightened her shoulders. “For a while, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be married to more than my job. It was exciting, interesting. But Ken’s always right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s a doctor, which fits his personality to a T.”
“Not following you there,” I said.
Briar waved her hand. “He has a God complex. He’s wanted me to get pregnant for months, sure that the hormones would kick in and I’d get all loving and maternal and give up my job and life outside our home. I’m not sure that’ll ever be me.”
“Because of your mum?” I asked.
Briar shook her head. “Because I haven’t felt the desire to have children.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m pretty sure I lack whatever that gene is.”
“So he forced the issue?”
“He tried to bribe my pharmacist into giving me a placebo instead of my birth control.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed out, barely able to process her words. “That’s low.”
She glanced up at me from under her lashes and bangs. My blood pumped harder. I liked that look. She needed to look at me like that again. Preferably when we were near a bed, alone.
“It’s worse than that. He’d proposed a couple days before. I was considering his question. Until I realized how ruthless he was to reach his goal.” She shook her head. “He didn’t ask me about something as important as a having child.”
Anger slammed into my gut, low and vicious. “I stick to my original observation. He’s a wanker.”
The bloom of embarrassment faded from her cheeks as she pressed her fingers to her lips. “I can’t believe I told you that.” She dropped her hand away. “Well, I can. We met at a really emotional time. Hospice is intense. I understand the hurt and confusion. Mine was a different path but we ended up in the same place.”
“Because of the arse you dated?”
She chuckled as she pulled sunglasses from her bag and went to settle them onto her nose. A few hairs caught in the edge piece and she paused to work them free. “I didn’t just date him, I lived with him,” she said, her voice soft, a hint of disbelief at her own admission. She cleared her throat. “No. I mentioned my dad died when I was ten. That my mom was long gone—with three new children she actually wanted.”
She kept her gaze on the fountain, her breathing slow, like she was trying to be nonchalant. She failed.
“My mom didn’t come get us for nearly a month after my dad’s funeral. Lia—that’s my older sister I mentioned before—had to play parent to me the whole time. I wasn’t very helpful. And then, I went numb.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, her sunnies sliding down her nose. “Some days I still think I am. It’s easier than caring.”
“I get that. That’s the shit of it—sometimes you can’t not care.” I blew out a careful breath. “Like when people are dying.”
“Like then.” Briar agreed. “Which is why I wanted to bring you out to lunch. Being there with a person who’s working so hard to die, that’s a gift. Not only for them but for you, too.”
We remained quiet, needing time to soothe the rawness of our confessions. I needed Briar right now. Unfortunately, I wanted more than just her sympathy. I wanted her body and the hours of mindless pleasure we’d glean from each other. In some ways, that would make the trip here more worthwhile than telling my mother, a
I sat back, loving that her cheeks were pink from being outdoors and maybe even embarrassment. “Part?”
She smoothed her top, her fingers plucking at a small thread. “I liked my work. Most of the time, anyway. I really liked being the boss. I’d been promoted at twenty-seven to the top spot, the youngest woman in the country.” Pride straightened her shoulders. “For a while, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be married to more than my job. It was exciting, interesting. But Ken’s always right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s a doctor, which fits his personality to a T.”
“Not following you there,” I said.
Briar waved her hand. “He has a God complex. He’s wanted me to get pregnant for months, sure that the hormones would kick in and I’d get all loving and maternal and give up my job and life outside our home. I’m not sure that’ll ever be me.”
“Because of your mum?” I asked.
Briar shook her head. “Because I haven’t felt the desire to have children.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m pretty sure I lack whatever that gene is.”
“So he forced the issue?”
“He tried to bribe my pharmacist into giving me a placebo instead of my birth control.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed out, barely able to process her words. “That’s low.”
She glanced up at me from under her lashes and bangs. My blood pumped harder. I liked that look. She needed to look at me like that again. Preferably when we were near a bed, alone.
“It’s worse than that. He’d proposed a couple days before. I was considering his question. Until I realized how ruthless he was to reach his goal.” She shook her head. “He didn’t ask me about something as important as a having child.”
Anger slammed into my gut, low and vicious. “I stick to my original observation. He’s a wanker.”
The bloom of embarrassment faded from her cheeks as she pressed her fingers to her lips. “I can’t believe I told you that.” She dropped her hand away. “Well, I can. We met at a really emotional time. Hospice is intense. I understand the hurt and confusion. Mine was a different path but we ended up in the same place.”
“Because of the arse you dated?”
She chuckled as she pulled sunglasses from her bag and went to settle them onto her nose. A few hairs caught in the edge piece and she paused to work them free. “I didn’t just date him, I lived with him,” she said, her voice soft, a hint of disbelief at her own admission. She cleared her throat. “No. I mentioned my dad died when I was ten. That my mom was long gone—with three new children she actually wanted.”
She kept her gaze on the fountain, her breathing slow, like she was trying to be nonchalant. She failed.
“My mom didn’t come get us for nearly a month after my dad’s funeral. Lia—that’s my older sister I mentioned before—had to play parent to me the whole time. I wasn’t very helpful. And then, I went numb.” Her gaze dropped to her lap, her sunnies sliding down her nose. “Some days I still think I am. It’s easier than caring.”
“I get that. That’s the shit of it—sometimes you can’t not care.” I blew out a careful breath. “Like when people are dying.”
“Like then.” Briar agreed. “Which is why I wanted to bring you out to lunch. Being there with a person who’s working so hard to die, that’s a gift. Not only for them but for you, too.”
We remained quiet, needing time to soothe the rawness of our confessions. I needed Briar right now. Unfortunately, I wanted more than just her sympathy. I wanted her body and the hours of mindless pleasure we’d glean from each other. In some ways, that would make the trip here more worthwhile than telling my mother, a
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