Page 71 of Driving Him Wild

minute with her.’ My heart stuttered and my fist tightened at the recollection. ‘I don’t even remember what we talked about. I really wish I did. I wish I’d paid better attention...’

‘The time spent was more important than the words said.’

‘Was it, though? Because she left for her party and I never saw her again.’

His fingers tightened on my skin. ‘What?’

‘She was done being a mother. She wanted to live her life. Those hours in her dressing room may

have been her way of saying goodbye. Or maybe it was just a meaningless indulgence for her. Thing

is, I never got the chance to find out.’

Jensen exhaled slowly, then turned to drop a kiss on my knee.

I was glad he wasn’t looking at me. I didn’t think I could bear him witnessing my pain. Not that he didn’t have a very good idea. He was far too clever for that.

‘My brothers and I found out later that it’d been their intention all along. To leave that night and never return.’

Jensen frowned. ‘Both your parents left?’

‘Yes.’ My throat was clogged with ravaging pain. ‘It became sort of a recurring theme. My cousin

Damien’s parents did the same thing too.’

He cursed under his breath. ‘Who told you?’ he asked.

‘My aunt Flo knew. Hell, she probably tried to stop them because...well, that’s the kind of person

she is. She didn’t succeed, obviously. So a day after spending what I thought was the start of the

mother-daughter bonding I’d dreamt about, I was effectively an orphan, despite my parents still being alive.’

‘Min Gud,’he muttered under his breath.

My fingers weaved through his hair, anchoring myself. He made a thick, pleased sound at the back

of his throat, leaned into my touch.

‘Was that what drove you and your brothers apart?’ he asked after a minute.

Fresh anguish washed over me. ‘No. That was all me.’

‘How?’

‘I got it into my head that I could make things right, get my mother to come home. I begged and

badgered my way into getting them to agree for us to write letters to my mother. It took a few months but I finally got them on board.’

‘Did she reply?’

I laughed again, but the sound broke apart, catching the sharp edge of my grief. ‘Oh, yes, she did.’

‘Graciela...kæreste...’

I didn’t know what the endearment meant, but I shook my head, eager to dispel the threat of tears

and unlock the lump lodged in my throat. ‘I’m fine. It’s fine,’ I insisted.

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