Page 70 of Shattered Fate

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I saw letting Stella go as a means to an end, and she didn’t disappoint. Perhaps you can invite her for coffee one afternoon. I’d like to see her.”

“I’m not sure the feeling would be mutual. You don’t seem to understand the extent of the crimes your husband and son have committed.” Agitated, I stand from the sofa and tread lightly to the window. It’s a different view than what I’m treated to in Jerricka’s office, but it’s still spectacular.

Willow closes her eyes. “I don’t suppose I do, but I’ll be made to pay despite it, won’t I?”

“Did he ever love me?” I ask, the question popping out of my mouth unbidden. It doesn’t matter if Ash loved me or not, the things he did to me canceled out any feelings he might have had.

“Zarah, my parents arranged my marriage to Clayton. No one knows that. Everyone thinks we had a fairytale courtship that ended in a lovely wedding. My parents sold me, and Clayton treated me like anything a man can buy. Replaceable. Expendable. I’m lucky Ash was a boy. Had I birthed a girl, he would have killed me.” Willow leans forward and holds her head in her hands, gold bangles clinking down her arm.

It’s the most undone I’ve ever seen her, and my heart hurts for her.

She stands, cautiously approaches me, and rests her hand gently on my shoulder. “To answer your question, no, I don’tbelieve my son ever loved you. Clayton raised that boy to love no one but himself. I cared about you, Zarah, like I would have my own daughter. I hope you believe that.”

“Then why did you let them do what they did?”

Willow laughs bitterly. “Come now. You let him do what he did as well. Do you believe I had any more power than you?”

I sigh, knowing the truth. “No.”

“Thank you for admitting it. I tried to visit you at Quiet Meadows. They wouldn’t let me in.”

“They?”

“The staff. I could never get past the reception desk. It’s been one of my biggest regrets.”

I need all my control not to grab my coat and walk out. “Then we both owe Stella.”

A sad smile touches Willow’s mouth. “Probably more than you realize. I may be trapped in this tiny apartment, and I may do some time if the prosecutors can find something that will implicate me, but I’m free. You have no idea what that means to me.”

“No, I don’t, becauseIwill never be free, Willow. I will always fear men touching me, I will always have nightmares of the nights Ash sold me. My mind may never be the same, even after I’m weaned off all the drugs Ash poisoned me with. Ash,your son, ruined my life. Your regrets don’t mean anything to me.”

She flinches.

I want to leave but my manners root me to the floor. Polite until the end. “Why did you invite me here? You didn’t want to tell me you were a victim. No one cares, and I have learned that for myself very well. What did you really have to say so you can put this away?”

A look I don’t like comes into her eyes, and she opens her mouth, but the shadows pass and she says, “For no reason otherthan to see you. I’ve issued invitations, but no one wants to have anything to do with me.”

I poke my tongue into my cheek. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Even if you feel the same, you’ve done me a kindness stopping by. Please, stay for lunch. I’ve put together salads and made raspberry lemonade. Then, if you never want to visit again, I’ll understand.”

We pass a surprisingly pleasant hour catching each other up on what’s been happening since the night at the governor’s mansion. They’d taken Willow into custody almost immediately and the only things keeping her out of prison are Stella’s testimony that Willow didn’t stop her from escaping Black Enterprises, a lie-detector test, and her very good, and very expensive, attorney.

She seems at peace, relaxed and happy. A change from the somber woman I remember, though my memory doesn’t offer me anything but glimmers and feelings, shades of the way Willow made me feel.

Loved. Like someone was watching out for me.

That was when I thought Willow would be my mother-in-law. Now there’s nothing connecting us but abuse and abandonment by the same men but in completely different ways.

“I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here,” I say, sliding my arms through my coat sleeves.

“Your brother wouldn’t approve. If this is going to cause trouble, you shouldn’t visit. I don’t want to complicate your life any more than it already is.”

I miss my old life. When I didn’t need to worry about anything but what dress to wear to what party. My life will never be that simple again, and I struggle to keep my past and present separate. My recovery depends on it. But sometimes I let myself sink into the years ago, and Willow is there, a constant presence after my parents were killed.

“I’ve been granted some free time,” I say. “I’ve been working hard, trying to find control in some areas of my life. I’ll try to visit next week, if I can get away.”

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