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“I’ve been married and widowed since I last spoke with him. He’s moved on, surely.” I’ve not heard much about his love life, but I haven’t heard much about him in general since we were last together. He’s always been a private person. Even a little secretive.

Maybe that’s why I was always drawn to him. I love a good secret. After all, I’m an expert at keeping them.

“I suppose.” The mysterious way Carolina just said that infuriates me.

“He has.” My words, my tone, are insistent. I can’t believe he would still give me another chance. Even if he did…

I wouldn’t deserve it.

“Darling.”

We lift our heads in tandem to find our mother hovering over the two of us, though her gaze is only for me.

“What?” I snap, irritated.

That fake pleasant look on her face disappears in an instant. “I was hoping we could speak.” She glances over at Carolina. “Privately.”

A sigh leaves Carolina and she rises to her feet. “Ignoring me as usual. Love how you haven’t changed, Mother. You can have my chair.”

She walks away before I can stop her, my gaze lingering on the back of Carolina’s perfect blonde head as she abandons me.

Leaving me alone.

With our mother.

A woman who scares me to this day.

“Finally.” Mother falls into Carolina’s chair, her smile aimed right at me. She’s impeccable in a vintage Oscar de la Renta dress. I only know this because I recognize it from her closet, which I always loved to go through when I was little. “You look well, Sylvie.”

“Thank you.” It’s only because I’m out of her clutches. When I spend too much time with my mother, I end up skinny and frail. Sickly.

Always sick.

“There’s color in your cheeks. And you’re even a little…plump.” Her gaze drops to my chest. My breasts.

My laugh sounds rough as it scrapes at my throat. “I am far from plump and you know it.”

“You’ve definitely gained weight—”

“Stop trying to make me feel bad.” I can tolerate her for only so long. “What do you want?”

“I miss you so much, Sylvie. My little twin.” Mother leans forward, gathering my hands in hers and clutching them tight, her gaze never straying from mine. At least I didn’t get her eyes. Otherwise, I could be her identical twin, born twenty-plus years later. “We used to do everything together, but once you got married, you tried to cut me out of your life.”

My gaze drifts. It’s hard to look at her. “I had to.”

She doesn’t ask what I mean by that because, deep down, she knows. And besides, she wormed her way back in eventually. Once my husband died and I needed someone, anyone to help me. “Sylvie, look at me.” When my gaze finds hers once more, she keeps talking. “I just want to be there for you, darling. I’m so sorry for your loss, and what you’ve gone through at such a young age. You know I am. What happened to Earl was…unthinkable.”

I remain quiet. There’s no point in protesting her sympathy or her statement about Earl. What happened to him was definitely unthinkable. No one should die as he did.

“I know you suffered over Earl. You’ve suffered so much your entire life. It hasn’t been easy. All the money in the world, and look at what you’ve dealt with.” She squeezes my hands, like she’s never going to let them go. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

There are so many things she could be apologizing for. The list is endless. But I don’t believe she’s sincere. I don’t think she’s sorry for what she’s done to me.

I’m not sure she even realizes exactly what she’s done to me over the years. She pretends everything is fine between us whenever I see her, when it so clearly isn’t.

Carefully, I pull my hands from her grip, ignoring the disappointment on her face when I withdraw them. “I appreciate the apology.” Why I’m being kind to her, I don’t know. “But it’s too late.”

She frowns. “Too late for what?”


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance