Page 79 of Mine For The Winter

They were facing the view. And he must have been looking at the sparkling lights of Winterville, too, because he murmured, “Beautiful,” into her hair.

“Did you miss it while you were away.”

“All the time.” He slid his hands between her coat and sweater. For a moment she imagined them moving down further. A shot of desire pulsed through her thighs.

“But you built a new life, didn’t you? I heard about you getting engaged.” It had felt like a knife to the heart back then. Now, it felt like part of the history every grown up seemed to have. Failed relationships, messy feelings about their parents. Fears for their childrens’ futures.

She was used to all of those.

“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” he asked.

“Where is that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the beginning of the end. When I left town the last time.”

She stiffened in his hold. It still hurt to think about that.

“I’m so sorry I walked away from you. I never should have done it.”

She closed her eyes. Opened them again. Breathed softly. Watched as the vapor disappeared into the inky air.

“You okay with me talking?”

She nodded.

His palms flattened against her stomach, his fingers splayed out. “When you told me you were pregnant it was like a knife to my chest. I knew I’d lost you then. And I knew it was all my fault. If I’d been a better man I would have stayed. Been a friend to you. A support to Lyle. The kind of uncle that Cole deserves.”

“But you didn’t stay.”

“No. Back then I saw everything in black and white. You wanted me or you didn’t. I stayed or I went. We were all in or all out. I was a fucking punk.”

“You were young. We all were.”

“Yeah, but you needed me. More than you had before you were pregnant.” His fingers were tracing patterns on her sweater. “I hate that you had to go through it alone.” His cheek was resting against hers now. She could feel the roughness of his beard against her. “Can you tell me about it?”

“About Lyle?”

“About all of it. Lyle. The pregnancy. The birth.”

Her brows pinched. “Are you sure you want to hear? It was a shit show.”

“Yeah, I want to hear. I think I need to. I can’t ask for your forgiveness without knowing exactly how much you need to forgive.”

A shudder went through her. He must have thought she was cold because his arms tightened around her waist. She shuffled back an inch, and he let out a soft breath.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, wondering if she’d pushed against him weirdly.

“No. Not like that.”

She wanted to ask what it was like, but she was too busy thinking about his leaving. Her pregnancy, Cole’s birth.

The whole shebang.

“Lyle started drinking in earnest almost as soon as you left. But worse, because he knew that I didn’t want to be there. It was just the baby that kept me there. This stupid conviction that a child deserves a mom and a dad.

“As the pregnancy continued, he got worse. Started stealing money from my purse for drugs and alcohol. Stayed out nights at a time, sometimes weeks. Those were the good times, when he wasn’t there. When I could concentrate on painting the nursery or building the little hope chest for Cole’s birth. The bad times were when he was back.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

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