“Was she?”
“No. The authorities got involved, but in the end they decided it was a terrible accident. I don’t know what she said to them and I think we were followed up for a while, but nothing ever happened.”
“Did anyone question you?”
“They tried to, but I couldn’t speak.”
“You were in shock.”
Emily felt the ache deep in her chest. “Katy was the only thing in my life I’d ever loved. When I realized she’d gone, nothing mattered. I didn’t care what my mother did or didn’t do. I was catatonic. Without Katy I didn’t care about anything. Five days later my mother had Lana. She expected me to look after her the way I had for Katy, but I couldn’t.” She breathed, wondering how honest to be. How much to confess. “From the moment Lana was born, I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t want anything to do with her. My mother told me I was cold. Unfeeling.”
“That’s horseshit.”
“She told me this was my chance to make up for having killed my sister.”
“Jesus, Emily, please, tell me you knew that wasn’t true.”
“When you’re a child you believe what grown-ups tell you.”
“At least tell me you don’t believe it now.”
She breathed. “Part of me does, because it’s true. I did take her into the water. I did let go of her.”
“It was an accident. As you say, you were a child. You shouldn’t have been given responsibility for her. A tragic, terrible accident, but still an accident. Did you ever talk to anyone about it?”
“Brittany and Skylar. And Kathleen. They’re the only people who know. Talking about it doesn’t help, and anyway, it’s in the past.”
“You sit with your back to the water and you don’t go near the sea. I assume that’s why you stayed in the cottage with Kathleen while your friends were on the beach. That sounds as if it’s in your present, not your past.”
“I’m scared of the water, that’s true. And I’m scared of having responsibility for a child. I loved Katy with every part of me and losing her ripped my heart out from the roots. I can’t love like that again. I choose not to.”
His thumb moved gently on her arm. “You think love is something you can switch on and off?”
“I know it is. I don’t feel deeply. That’s why Neil ended it.”
His thumb stopped moving. “Neil ended it because he was a dick.”
Emily gave a shocked laugh. “You’ve never even met him.”
“Thank God. I already have enough evidence to know he’s a dick. For a start, he was with you for three years and didn’t once take the time to explore why you were too scared to open up to him. What the hell was wrong with the guy?”
“Not everybody wants to spill their innermost secrets.”
“It’s called intimacy, Emily, and it’s a basic requirement for a successful, healthy relationship. What you two had sounds more like roommates or first cousins.”
She flushed, because hadn’t she had that same thought herself? “You can’t judge a relationship from the outside. There is no right and wrong. Just what works for that couple.”
“I agree, but that’s not the only reason I know he’s a dick.”
Emily sighed. “What’s the other reason?”
“He let you go.”
Heat rushed through her. She was aware of his arm, locking her securely against him. Of the brush of his hard thigh against hers. “It wasn’t his fault. I’ve shut down that part of myself. I don’t want to feel anything.”
“If you were mine, I would have made you feel.” He spoke with quiet emphasis, his thumb moving in a gentle rhythm over her arm. “I wouldn’t have let you hide away.”
And that, she thought, was why being with him both excited and terrified her. “Ryan—”