“Do you know how many times you asked about her pregnancy or the baby since we started this discussion? Zero.”
God. He was right. Shame washed through me.
“According to her, you don't believe she's pregnant, and if she is, you want a DNA test on the baby. So fuck you, Max. Go back to New York and live your pathetic self-centered life. Like I said, Amelia and the baby don't need you or your money."
He walked out of the room, leaving me standing, shaking. He’d painted me as an asshole. If he was right about Amelia, I was being an asshole. But I'd already loved and lost. I wasn't going to open myself up to that again.
That didn’t mean I’d abandon my child. No, I would be involved in the baby’s life. There was nothing Amelia or James could do about that. But I wasn't going to let James’s words get to me. For all I knew, he was part of the scam. He’d probably been sent here to salvage the plan.
I needed to return to the brunch, but there was no way I could enter that room and hide the torrent of emotions swirling inside me. Instead, I headed up to my room, going straight to the minibar for a drink. Sitting on the couch, I tried to calm my nerves. I worked to make sense of what was happening.
I finished my drink and went to the minibar to get more. I’d just downed a shot when there was a knock on my door. I planned to ignore it until I heard Sam's voice on the other side.
Fuck. I still considered not answering it, but of all the people I didn't want to be an asshole to, Sam was it.
I strode over and opened the door, attempting to smile. "I'll be down in just a minute."
He walked in, forcing me to step back. He entered the main part of the suite, going to the window and looking out. Then he turned, giving me a pointed glare. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Max?"
"Nothing." My nerves crackled with agitation again. “Just because our lives were practically joined at the hip as kids, they're not now. Especially when you moved across the country. I've got my own shit."
He nodded. "What shit? And does this affect the business?"
My jaw tightened. I shook my head. "I won't let it."
He gaped at me. "What the hell does that mean? Look, I get that you don’t like to share your emotions, but something is going on here, Max. Why won't you tell me what it is? Don't you trust me?"
Shame had me looking down. "It's not a matter of trust. I just need to deal with this on my own."
"Deal with what?" I could tell Sam was getting to the end of his rope.
I shook my head. "You're supposed to be on your honeymoon, Sam. I'm fine."
"You are so far from fine." He laughed derisively. "You can tell me or you can tell Mom. Because if you don't tell me, I'm going to tell her what's going on, and then I’m taking my wife on a honeymoon."
"Don't.” I couldn’t cope anymore. I just needed time alone to sort my shit out. “Let me deal with this. I don't need you or Mom or anyone butting into my business."
I could've punched Sam in the face and probably not hurt him any more than I just had. The pain of my words showed on his face.
“Butting into your business? You think that’s what this is? Fine. Have it your way." He started to walk past me toward the door but then stopped. "You need to stop using your dyslexia or insecurity you had about it as a kid as an excuse to hide in life. Sharing your problems with family and letting them support you and help you is what family is all about. The only one in this family who isn’t his true self is you. You don’t let any of us in. When you're like this, Max, you break all of our hearts." He strode to the door, opening it and walking out.
For the second time, I shook with a mixture of grief and shame and anger. I knew he was right. But becoming a person like Sam, who shared his feelings and problems, meant opening myself in a way that I promised I never would. I'd spent much of my life closing that part of me off to avoid being made a fool or vulnerable to others.
Yeah? How's that working for you now?I knew that's exactly what Sam would say if I had spoken those words out loud. It wasn't working, but I still wasn't willing to open myself and risk being made small again.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Amelia
I was fast asleep in my brother's guest bedroom when the new year started. When I woke in the morning, I was disoriented, not sure where I was. But then my life came flooding back to me. I was pregnant with my husband's baby, who I was getting an annulment from, because my father ruined my life. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and never come out. But I wasn't a woman to give into depression or hopelessness. And I especially couldn't now with a child on the way. So, I forced myself out of bed. I had a lot to do to prepare for my future... and for my father's wrath. I hoped I had time before he discovered the annulment papers had been filed, and I prayed to God he didn't hear about the baby.
I straightened the clothes that I had slept in and made my way to the kitchen where my brother was cooking.
He turned when he saw me. "Happy New Year."
I rolled my eyes.
"I have tea if you like. Or I have coffee, but you’re probably not drinking that anymore."