Page 87 of By the Letter

“Because…” She rubbed her palms along her thighs. “Because my father married you when you were barely out of your teens. If I made you into this…this vixen who’d seduced him, then you were the bad guy and he was your victim, and I didn’t have to think of my father as the kind of man who would do that.”

I sighed, suddenly exhausted. “He was human. He made mistakes, but he wasn’t a bad guy, Francesca. He can still be your hero in your memories if that’s what you want.”

She nodded, her lips rolled over her teeth. “He isn’t my hero, just my dad.” And then her shining eyes found mine. Francesca Goldman was a stunningly beautiful woman, and she was well aware of that fact. This was the first time I had seen her look real, and she was more lovely than ever. “I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me how sick he was.”

“I don’t either,” I admitted. “Except he clung to his pride like it was his lifeline. He didn’t want you seeing him that way.”

“And he made you be the one to tell me I had to stay away.”

“Yes.” My shoulders rolled forward. “I should have fought him harder, but it happened faster than either of us had expected. There was no time. I’m sorry for that. I truly am.”

That was the only apology she would get from me. She might’ve been contrite now, but she’d spent years hating me and, months after her father died, outright abusing and stealing from me. Not to mention, she’d put my cat outside—something I’d never forgive.

But Ishouldhave fought Frank when he wouldn’t allow me to tell his daughter his heart was failing. I should have called her and explained the severity of his illness. But going along with his wishes had been easier, even when I knew they were wrong. I would always regret that they didn’t have the time together they should have. Pride could be such an ugly thing, and Frank had been overflowing with it.

There was no going back. No changing things. All we could do was acknowledge what we’d done wrong and try not to make the same mistakes.

“Thanks.” She tossed her hair behind her shoulder and straightened her spine. “I suppose I should apologize for being a bitch.”

I waited, but an apology was not forthcoming. I guessedIwas the only one acknowledging what I’d done wrong.

I almost snickered at how very Francesca that was, but I didn’t think she’d take kindly to being laughed at, and I was hoping to escape this encounter unscathed.

She went on. “I was working with what I had, you know? My dad’s dead, and I’m pissed about that. I think anyone would be. Yeah, I might’ve screwed you over with GoldMed, but it’s not like you’re not set for life. I know Daddy was generous with your inheritance. It’s public record, after all.”

“Hewasgenerous,” I agreed. “I’m very lucky.”

She lifted her chin, fully coming back to her classic Francesca haughtiness. “You are. I’m pleased you’re aware of it.”

I smiled wanly at her.

“It’s good we had this talk. Now it can all be water under the bridge and we can move on.” She nodded toward my bump. “Good luck with the baby. I’m glad you’re getting a second chance at life. Hopefully the baby’s father isn’t old enough to be yours too. But…I don’t know, maybe old is your type. Who am I to judge?”

I let myself laugh. “Thank you. Good luck to you too.”

When Bea and Clara found me a little while later, curled up in an armchair by the fireplace in the lobby, I still had a smile on my face.

Bea circled her finger near my mouth. “What’s this about?”

“I had a run-in with my former stepdaughter,” I said.

Clara’s brows shot up. “What? She’s here?”

Bea put her hands on her hips. “I haven’t been in a fight since high school, but I’m ready. Where is she?”

My shoulders shook from laughter. “No, Beatrice. You will not get into fisticuffs on my behalf. Besides, Fran and I came to an understanding. She was barely even a bitch.”

Clara perched on the arm of my chair and peered down at me with a concerned frown. “What kind of understanding?”

“Basically, we wished each other well.” I lifted a shoulder. “I wouldn’t say it was a nice conversation, but I’m glad we had it. No matter how she’s treated me, she deserved better from her father.”

“Bitch deserves jack,” Bea muttered.

“Maybe.” I spread my fingers out on my belly. I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying guilt over what had happened with Francesca at the end of Frank’s life until my load had been lightened. “Maybe I deserved a chance to explain and apologize. Now, it’s done, and we’re moving on. That’s how she and I left it, and I feel pretty great about that.”

With a soft groan, Bea plopped down on the other arm of my chair and leaned over to kiss my head. “Fine. Be a much better person than I am.”

Clara snorted. “Our girl couldn’t hold a grudge to save her life.”

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