Burn by Maya Banks Page B

broke off, her voice cracking at the very last.
    “In the end what?” he prompted gently.
    “In the end it was a relief even though I was devastated over having to let go and say good-bye. She was in so much pain. It hurt to see her like that. It hurt her. She hated for me to see her that way, to have to take care of her. She worried for so long that she was taking up too much of my life, that she was holding me back and saddling me with the responsibility of taking care of her. But God, she was my mother. I would have done anything for her. I never regretted a single moment of our time together. And in the end, she was ready to go. She’d fought for so long and so hard. She was exhausted and no longer had the strength to fight. That was the hardest for me. To watch my kick-ass mom slowly fade. I just wanted her pain to be over and for her to have peace. So when she passed away, there was relief. And I know that sounds horrible.”
    He shook his head. “Not horrible, Josie. Human. She was your mother and you loved her. No one likes to see their loved ones endure pain and heartache.”
    Josie nodded and wiped at her eye with the back of her hand. Her fingers were shaking when she lowered her hand back to the table.
    “Wow, not great dinner conversation, right? Sorry to babble on like that.”
    “I asked,” he said simply. “What about your father? Do you have any siblings or are you an only child?”
    She blew out an unhappy sigh. “I’m an only child. My parents wanted more, but my mother couldn’t have any more after me. She had cancer once before and with all the treatments, not only could she not bear another child, but she was too weakened by the whole process. I—we—thought she’d kicked it, you know? She went twenty years in remission and then it came back. Much more pervasive this time. She didn’t respond to treatment like she did before.”
    She shook her head. “Sorry. There I go again.”
    He reached across the table and slid his hand over hers. “We’re having a conversation, Josie. It’s what two people do when they go out on a date. Stop apologizing. If I wasn’t interested, I wouldn’t have asked. However, if it’s too painful a subject, we can certainly talk about other things. But I’m interested in every part of you. I very much want to hear about you, your life, your family, whatever makes you tick.”
    She smiled and didn’t pull her hand away from his. A fact he was absurdly triumphant over.
    “Now, you said parents . Did your father pass away as well?”
    Her lips tightened and coldness crept into her gaze, turning the aqua color more to blue. It was like looking at a frost-covered windowpane.
    “He left her— us —the first time she had cancer. Not right away. He waited until she was well enough to make it on her own and then he split. His reason? He couldn’t stand the heartache of losing her to cancer. He didn’t want to have to watch her die and so he left instead. Isn’t that the biggest bullshit you’ve ever heard? It makes no sense to me. It’s never made any sense that he’d walk away from his wife and child, all because he worried she’d die. He lost her either way, but he lost me too. I never forgave him for that. For leaving us both when we desperately needed him. Especially my mother. Who after undergoing extensive treatment then had to find a job so she could support me and pay the bills.”
    “Yeah, it is bullshit,” Ash said darkly. “So you haven’t seen him since? How many years ago was this?”
    “Eighteen,” she replied, her voice tight. No matter her anger—and he didn’t blame her for being angry—there was also hurt in her voice. Betrayal. He rubbed his thumb over the tops of her knuckles in a soothing motion, silently urging her to go on.
    He had her talking now and hopefully she’d relax and open up further.
    “I was ten years old when he left. For a long time he didn’t even try to contact her or me. Then when I graduated high