Molly lowered her cup. She’d told him this much, there didn’t seem much point in stopping now. “At the time, no. It was hard. It isn’t easy to cope with the knowledge that your own mo
ther doesn’t want you in her life in any shape or form. But as I grew older I realized that it probably was easier this way.”
“Because having her come in and out of your life would have been like having a wound reopened time and time again.”
“Something like that.” She felt the warmth of the cup through her hands. “Mostly because I don’t think my dad would have been able to deal with it.”
“He took it badly?”
“Very badly.” She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t tell him there had been days when she’d been afraid to go to school and leave her father alone, and other days when she’d dreaded coming home, afraid of what she might find. “We had a rough year, and then one day I came home and smelled burning and that was when I knew things were going to be okay.”
“Burning the house down was a good sign?”
She laughed. “No, but the fact that he was cooking was a good sign. After that, things gradually improved, although it was a while before my dad found the courage to date anyone again. That was the hardest part. He couldn’t see his own worth. He hadn’t been enough for her, and he took it to mean he’d never be enough for anyone.”
Daniel watched as two squirrels chased each other across the grass. “That explains why you’re wary of relationships.”
“It’s part of it, but not all of it. The real reason is simpler. I’m not good at them.” She thought about how her relationships always ended. Not cleanly, but messily. Pain. Anguish. “How about you? You spend your day seeing relationships that are all screwed up and wrong. Must make it hard to believe one could ever be right.”
“It certainly makes me careful.”
She blew on her tea, wondering why talking to him felt so comfortable and natural. “So why did you choose to become a divorce lawyer? Why not criminal law or corporate law?”
He leaned down, his fingers closing over a stick. “I became a divorce lawyer because I grew up with parents who should not have stayed together. I would have given a lot for someone to help them untangle their marriage. Instead I learned firsthand what it’s like to grow up with parents who don’t like each other.” He threw the stick in a graceful arc and made Brutus wait before finally giving him the command to fetch it.
His frankness surprised her. She’d expected him to be emotionally guarded.
“That explains why you don’t think it’s always a good idea for a couple to stay together simply because they have children.”
“Case-by-case basis.” He watched as Brutus retrieved the stick. “Maybe for some people that would be the right thing to do.”
“Did they divorce eventually?”
“Yes. But not until my sisters had left home.” He turned to look at her. Trapped by that intense gaze, it was hard to find a single professional thought.
“Why did they stay together so long?”
“Because my mother was afraid to leave. And because my father told her that if she left, she’d lose her kids.” He finished his coffee and threw the cup in the trash, his aim perfect.
Molly sat still, shocked. “He was abusive?”
“Not physically, verbally. But that can be as bad. He diminished her and stripped her of her confidence until she was convinced that without him she wouldn’t be able to survive. You want to know why I became a divorce lawyer? That was why. She told me one day that if she left he’d get a fancy lawyer who would make sure she never saw us again. She’d lose us, and her home. She wasn’t willing to take that risk. I told her that when I grew up I was going to be a fancier lawyer than any of the ones he would have hired. I told her I’d make sure she had us, and her home.” He leaned forward to remove a twig that had become tangled in Brutus’s fur. “And that is way too much information to give to someone I just met in the park.”
“I was thinking the same thing about what I just told you.” Molly watched, transfixed, as his fingers moved gently and patiently over the dog’s neck until he’d extracted the offending twig.
He gave Brutus a rub behind his ears and sat back. “Is your mother the reason you don’t date?”
All she could think about were his fingers caressing the dog. She wondered if he was that gentle in everything he did. “I— Date? Oh. Not really. I’m having fun being single.”
He leaned closer. “Have dinner with me and I’ll prove there are some things more fun than being single.”
Disorientated by his voice, it took her a moment to answer. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
Because she had more sense. Because this man was already making her behave in a way that was completely out of character. Since when did she spill all her secrets to a stranger she met in the park? “Maybe I don’t like you enough.”
“That’s not it.” He gave her a slow, sure smile and she decided that smile could probably get him through a locked door without a key.