“Then when?” Jude interjects, his tone frigid. “When is a good time to finally talk about how our mother has punished her oldest son for living because one of us died?”
I flinch. Because underneath the freezing note is hurt, so much hurt. For Knox? For himself? Maybe both of them. Katherine pales, a whimper escaping her as pain flashes in her blue eyes. Dan shoots from his chair and, catching her shoulders, helps lower her to his seat.
“That’s enough,” he barks, displaying a rare temper. “She’s your mother, and you will show her respect.”
“It’s not enough, Dan,” I reply before Jude, who is glaring at his stepfather, can. “This needs to be said. Katherine,” I shift my regard to her, and despair spears me through the chest as she stares at her other son, her anguish a tangible thing. But at her name, she switches her attention to me. “Connor died because of a brain aneurysm. Yes, the punch he received in the fight ruptured it, but so would’ve falling out of the bed and hitting his head. Or if he’d taken a job at a bank, so would’ve tripping and knocking his head against his desk. He loved playing basketball. A misplaced elbow or hard foul would’ve accomplished the same thing. It’s not fair; God, I know, it’s not fair, but it’s what happened. Blaming Knox isn’t going to bring him back. Making Knox suffer for choices that weren’t hisbut Connor’s alone, won’t make his death make any more sense or bring you any peace.”
“That’s not true,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes. “I’m not trying to make him suffer…”
“Yes, you are,” I object softly, even though her refusal and denial to admit her resentment toward her son frustrates me. Angers me. “And you’re killing him inside. Do you know that he blames himself? That he hasn’t really slept in two years because nightmares and the guilt of losing his younger brother tortures him? And then when he comes to this house, he faces more accusations. You’re. Tearing. Him. Apart,” I grind out. “He’s honorable, faithful, hard-working, loyal,good. He’s everything good, and you are slowly destroying him.”
Again, a deep silence hangs over the room, this one weighty with shock.
And I’m not immune. My breath whistles from between my lips, my heart working overtime. Images from the past and the present bombard me.
Knox, barging into my room upstairs and forcing me out of the bed.
Knox, holding me as I wept my grief.
Knox, sitting in a seat at Wrigley Stadium, relaxed, watching the baseball game, wearing a faint, but real, smile.
Knox, asleep in my bed, hair tangled around his face, vulnerable.
Knox, declaring his love for me.
Christ, I’m sostupid.
He sees me in a way no one else ever has—including Connor. That doesn’t diminish my love for Connor. My love for him was with all the rosy, unicorn-and-rainbows, hero worship of a girl who found her knight in shining armor. He was there for me when I so desperately needed to see that not all men hurt, reject, and abandon.
And Knox.Oh God, Knox.
My love for him is that of a woman who has experienced the suffering of life and has come out stronger, forged into unbreakable steel. A woman who understands that she doesn’t need a man by her side to complete the picture of who she is butchoosesto want him there. My love for him is with the knowledge that heroes aren’t shiny, golden-haired, perfect gods. They’re men. Scarred, battered, wounded men with feet of clay…and hearts of the purest, most precious gold.
I wouldn’t lose my independence or myself with him. No, Knox had spent the last eighteen months helping me find out who Eden Gordon was and celebrating her. Supporting her. Encouraging her. He didn’t want to strip me of my identity but help me find it.
I. Love. Him.
“What?” Katherine breathes.
I blink. Well, damn. I guess I must’ve said that aloud. But I’m not ashamed of it. The exact opposite. Pride, and a lightness I haven’t experienced in…years. Disbelief and joy ring through me. But so do the remnants of apprehension. Even as I acknowledge my love for Knox, I’m sitting at the family table facing my biggest fears. Rejection. Abandonment.
But when I think of the alternative—of not being able to freely love Knox, of not waking up to him, curling up next to his big, powerful body—there isn’t a decision.
Well, yes there is.
It’s Knox. It’ll always be Knox.
“I love him,” I repeat, and am surprised and pleased that it doesn’t shake but sounds firm…proud.
I glance around the dinner table, and Jude, not appearing the least bit shocked, arches an eyebrow at me and nods. Simon is wearing a half-grin and winks. Katherine and Dan, though… I swallow a sigh. The astonishment is thawing from Katherine’s expression, and a storm cloud is gathering. An ugly one.
“Katherine, I love you. You’re more of a mother to me than my own,” I say, gently, because no matter all that has gone down at this table, and what our relationship might resemble in the future, she’s been there for me. Loved me when my own parents hadn’t. “I loved Connor. And when he died, I wanted to crawl into that grave with him. But I didn’t. And by some miracle, I’ve fallen in love again—with Knox. And he is a miracle. One I didn’t see coming, wasn’t expecting. I know this is going to be hard for you to accept—I don’t even know if you can. And…and I’m okay with that if you can’t. I have to be. Because while I love you, I can’t live my life in memoriam of Connor.”
I push my chair back and stand, clutching the edge of the table. And my heart cracks at the disgust twisting Katherine’s mouth. Still, I breathe through the stinging.
“I love you,” I repeat. “So much. But I’m going after him, and if he’ll have me—if he’ll believe that I want him—I’m going to claim him right back. One day, I hope you can…”
The emotion clogging my throat won’t let me continue. I survey the room one more time. The oak dining room table. The elegant gold-and-blue striped wallpaper. The tasteful but beautiful chandelier. The people. I imprint it all on my brain because there’s a chance I won’t see it again for a while.
