Page 3 of A Way Out
“There’s nothing wrong with your parents.”
He would say that. Because he felt her parents were the perfect role models. Even better than his own.
“Did it ever occur to you that our attempt to be exactly like my parents is why we’re divorced now?” She rubbed at her forehead. No, of course he wouldn’t think that. “Besides, even if I could stomach moving back in with them, my mother will disown me when she finds out about the divorce. This is possibly even worse than running off to join a rock band.”
That was what her younger sister had done, and guess what? Holly was the happiest of all three sisters. If only Maria had any musical talent whatsoever.
“She already knows,” Vic said.
Of course she did. It wouldn’t surprise Maria in the least if he told her mother the moment the lawyer handed him the document. He had a bit of an Oedipus complex for her mother. If Maria weren’t so convinced that they both hated scandal so much, she’d almost think they were having an affair. Hell, her father would never notice; he was too busy working.
“Now I certainly can’t stay there,” Maria pointed out.
Vic sighed. “What about your sister? Could you stay with her?”
“Which one?”
Like her mother, Vic preferred to pretend Maria had only one sister: Ava, who lived in New York City and worked as much as their father and kept the entire family at arm’s length at all times.
Maria was much closer to Holly, which was a topic one did not discuss in either the Hearsy or Bernard household.
“Ava, of course,” Vic said.
Maria had never been to visit Ava in New York City. The invite had never been offered, and until now, she would never have dreamed of asking.
“You really want Riley and me to go all the way to New York?” she asked.
“I just want you out of the house.”
The statement wasn’t even full of emotion, yet it was the most emotion he’d ever shown, outside of when they had sex. And even then, he buried his face in the pillow or in her neck, and half the time it felt as though he were trying to restrain himself. At a moment in time when he should be allowing himself to be utterly free and unrestrained.
Look, divorce was hard. Harder on Vic than on her, she’d wager. This was not something he’d ever considered would be in the cards. It just wasn’t done in his circles, and he’d done his darndest to select a spouse from a family with the same criteria. He believed he’d done everything right.
Except there was one aspect of their relationship that had always been lacking.
Love.
And Maria was no longer willing to live like that.
She unstrapped Riley from her high chair and lifted her daughter into her arms. “Fine. I will leave. In the morning.” She paused. “Is that acceptable?”
“Yes.” He sounded weary, and she paused again. Had he changed his mind?
He didn’t speak.
Maria headed upstairs to give Riley a bath. Vic would assume she was going to either her parents’ or Ava’s. It would never occur to him that she’d run to her other sister.
Which was exactly where she planned to go.
Chapter Two
“Ohmigod!” Oz Garcia’s eldest niece, Elana, gave a squeal and rushed through the open patio doors to admire the pool. The youngest, Isabel, followed, while his eleven-year-old nephew hovered by Oz’s side. No doubt trying to be cool.
“Go on,” Oz said, nodding at the beautiful view. “It’s totally cool to be impressed by what’s out there.”
Daniel darted his gaze up, and Oz threw his arm around the kid’s bony shoulders. Daniel shrugged him off. Four years had gone by since his mother died and he still wasn’t ready for personal contact, even from the uncle who had taken over custody of him and his sisters.
Oz read every book the local library had about how to deal with kids after severe trauma—he couldn’t afford to send the kids to therapy and figured this was the next best thing—and the general consensus was, give it time. That was apparently the magical remedy when one’s abusive father shot and killed one’s mother—minutes before the kids walked into the house after school.
