But he’d tried.
Had he not tried, the woman would likely still be sleeping in his bed, but he’d have been losing her at the same time. Even if she’d stayed in his bed for the rest of her days.
She’d quit hiding from her loss. But she was still hiding from the fear of the pain that the loss had caused. And he’d been making it easy for her to continue to do so.
None of which helped ease the incredible ache he felt as he walked Morgan on the beach late Sunday afternoon. He’d never have believed it was possible to miss someone so much.
To feel a grayness inside while standing under pure blue skies with sunshine pouring down all over him.
But there it was.
The result of trying.
And he was still glad he’d done so.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Iris had to get off the beach. For the first time in three years, she found no solace there. Taking Angel with her, she spent Saturday driving around San Diego, visiting a few of her favorite parks, driving over to Coronado Island, taking pictures of her sweet girl in every spot they visited. And when nighttime came and her heart sank at the idea of heading back to Ocean Breeze, she called her stepmom.
She and Ivy had never given Diane a chance to be any kind of a mother to them—they’d had their own, and after she’d died, had hugely resented anyone who thought they’d take her place.
And, like their father, she’d been a recovered alcoholic. As teenagers, filled with their own knowledge, she and Ivy hadn’t understood enough about the disease. Number one, that itwasan illness, not merely a choice.
And that those who suffered with it, didn’t want to be that way.
They’d only known how their father’s drinking had hurt them personally and destroyed their family. And had seen Diane as potential for more of the same.
But as Iris opened herself up to the past, she’d been remembering more and more about the early days after the accident. She might not have survived, or had the will to fight to learn to walk again,if not for Diane’s presence beside her hospital bed, day after day, week after week. Twenty-four/seven during those first touch-and-go weeks.
In the six months she’d been in hospitals and rehabilitation facilities, Diane had never missed a day’s visit. Not one.
But as Iris had moved from hospital care to strictly psychological healing, she’d blocked Diane’s presence as much as she’d shut out everything else that she couldn’t take with her if she was going to survive.
The pain had buried her. And could again.
That’s what Scott didn’t get.
She hadn’t had a choice. She had to walk away.
She was good being with him, as long as it stayed within boundaries that kept her healthy. Love didn’t do that.
It destroyed her.
She’d been there.
She knew.
Diane met her at a hotel lounge halfway between San Diego and Anaheim, and over dinner and a glass of wine, she listened as she’d always done, while Iris unloaded on her. About finally being whole again. The journey she’d been on to get there. How good it felt to have arrived.
Until Iris got a look at herself, peering down at the two of them from some perch above. Or maybe Ivy, looking at them from her perch, gave her a strong nudge.
“I’m sorry,” she said, then, knowing deep inside her that that’s all she’d come to say. Looking into the woman’s big brown eyes, filled with the same honest caring she’d always shown, Iris teared up. “You’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming since the first time Ivy and I met you and we wouldn’t let you in and I’m just so sorry.”
Diane smiled tenderly, shook her head, patted Iris’s hand and said, “It’s all part of being a mother, sweetie. I only got to do it secondhand,but I’m grateful to have had the chance.” Her lips trembled, though, showing Iris some of the pain she had to be hiding.
“All those months I was in the hospital… I just need you to know…you being there saved my life.”
Tearing up in earnest, Diane continued to smile. Nodded. And reached her hand out across the table. Iris didn’t hesitate at all as she took hold of the soft fingers and held on.
