She glared at him, still fuming, but he saw in those eyes more than anger. Loss, anguish, uncertainty, and his heart softened, realizing that her anger wasn’t directed toward him, but that she was haunted by the interaction with Katie. “You were naked underneath it!”
“We’re all naked under our clothes. It’s the way it works.” He tossed his shirt over his shoulder, searching for the right words to help her. “Listen, I’m sorry that she walked in on us. I really am.” But he couldn’t quite muster up too much apology. Frankly, when Katie had defended him like that, he’d felt like the king of the world. Yeah, it hadn’t been Brooke, but if Katie could accept him, then maybe he had a chance with his own daughter.
“You don’t get it! What if she tells people? What if they find out?” Clare collapsed back against the door. Then she slid down the door to her bottom, pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in them. “Oh, God, this sucks. I can’t cope with everyone finding out and judging me for it.”
Griffin crouched in front of her and stroked her hair, aching for her torment. “Hey, Clare,” he said quietly. “Other people don’t matter. You have to live your life—”
“I’ve tried so hard,” she said as she hugged herself tighter. “I’ve worked so hard to make up for my mistake with Ed, and now, I’ve made the same error again. I’ve aligned myself with a man who will leave, exposed my daughter to sex, and—”
“Hey.” Now he was pissed. “It wasn’t sex. It was the connection between two souls and it was amazing. If they can’t see that, who the hell cares what they think?”
Clare looked up then, tears brimming in her eyes. “Ed was leaving when he crashed.”
“Ed?” Griffin frowned, trying to keep up with the change in topic. “Leaving town?”
“Me.” There was such pain in her eyes that his heart broke for her. “He left me, Griffin. He walked out on me and Katie.”
“Oh.” Shit. He knew exactly what it felt like to be walked out on. It sucked beyond words. Griffin sat down beside her and leaned against the wall. He rested his forearms on his knees. “What happened?”
Clare was still hugging herself, and she looked so vulnerable he wanted to gather her in his arms and protect her. But he was smart enough to know that the last thing she wanted right now was him, not in that way.
“Katie was two months old, and I was working at Wright’s part-time while Ed was working on his acting skills in our basement. I came home one day, and his duffel bags were packed. He said he was an actor and he had to follow his path, and that being in this town was stifling him.”
Bastard. “There are a lot of theatres in Portland. That’s not too far away.”
Clare shook her head, her eyes glimmering with tears. “He said that I was killing his soul, and he wanted out. He couldn’t be married to someone who had no vision beyond this town.”
Griffin swore. “That’s a bunch of crap. You’re an incredible woman.”
“I was just me, nothing glamorous or exotic. I just wanted to be a mom and a wife, and live in Birch Crossing. It wasn’t enough for him.”
Stupid bastard. How could anyone walk away from Clare and Katie? “Fuck him.”
Clare laughed softly, but he could see the pain still etched on her features. “I tried to stop him. I cried. I begged. I told him I couldn’t do it by myself. I told him that Katie needed him.” She looked up at Griffin. “I even told him I’d go with him.”
“And?” He didn’t even need to ask. He could see from the expression on Clare’s face that the stupid bastard had been completely unable to see the gift that Clare was.
“He told me he didn’t want us. So, he took the car, our only car, this rusted old truck that barely ran, and he left. He crashed on his way out of town and died at the scene.”
Son of a bitch. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen.”
“Shit.” He could only imagine the weight on Clare’s shoulders on that day. “Were your parents around to help you out?”
She shook her head. “My dad had died when I was younger, and my mom was already sick at that point.” She looked up, her eyes luminous. “I’ve never told anyone the truth about Ed. I was too ashamed to admit to everyone that they were right about him. Katie has no idea. As far as she knows, he adored her and his death was a tragic loss. How do I defend him to the town when I know they’re right? He walked out on his beautiful daughter, Griffin. What kind of man does that?”
“A bastard.” Griffin leaned his head back against the door, trying to imagine how Katie would respond if she knew the truth about her father, that he hadn’t loved her. Maybe it would free her from his memory instead of dragging her down. “Would you consider telling Katie what he was really like?”
“No, never,” Clare shook her head emphatically. “What’s the point of telling her that her father didn’t love her? As long as she believes her dad loved her, she can hold onto it. And maybe he did. Maybe he would have reached the Maine border and turned around. We’ll never know.”
Griffin looked at her. “You know.”
Clare sighed. “Yes, I do. He never wanted to stay, not for a minute, and the only reason he did was because I got pregnant and Norm chased him down with a gun and told him he had to do right by me.”
Griffin liked the old man already, but now? He’d buy that man a beer, or thirty, the next time he saw him. “A real shotgun wedding?”
“Yeah, well, Norm and Ophelia are the only ones who know Ed had to be threatened into marrying me. The rest of the town thinks he was a loser because he died. No one knows how bad it was.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
“Because I’m safe. I’m an outsider and I won’t judge you.”
She groaned and let her head flop back against the door with a thud. “Of course you can still judge me.”
“But I won’t.” Unable to resist the need to comfort her, Griffin moved so that his shoulder was against hers. He gently unwrapped her arms from her knee and took her hand, holding it between his. “Listen to me, Clare.”
She turned so she could see him, still using the door to support her head. “What?”
“You’re an incredible woman. What you’ve managed to do with the life you were handed is extraordinary.”
She watched him, but said nothing. No denial, but no acceptance either. “I should have found a way to keep him alive for my daughter,” she said quietly.
“No. You can’t blame yourself for any of that. The choices you made fifteen years ago were the best you could make at the time. They have no reflection on today.” He rubbed her hand, not liking how cold it was. “It wasn’t your fault that Ed left.”
“I made a bad choice, and Katie has suffered for it.”
“How? She’s a happy kid.”
“You heard her! The town ridicules her dad. That’s not fair to her.” She groaned. “And now she wants to do that festival. Do you realize what that means? She might meet a boy there like I did, and start down that path and that life. I can’t let that happen, Griffin. I have to protect her from that. She needs to get a good education and have the tools to handle whatever life throws at her. I don’t want her to deal with what I faced.” Tears filled her eyes. “What if she got pregnant by some actor? She’ll be sixteen this summer.
Sixteen.
”
Griffin pulled her onto his lap, and Clare melted into him as the tears came. He had no words to comfort her. He couldn’t tell her that she was fabricating the horrors that might befall her daughter, because he knew they weren’t imaginary. It was like his dream, and Katie was heading straight into the proverbial ocean, and Clare couldn’t stop her.
And the worst thing of all, for her, was the truth that everyone in town who gave her grief about her choice to marry Ed had been proved correct, at least in Clare’s view.
She
had
married a bastard. An outsider who had screwed up her life and then abandoned her in more than one way. Griffin kissed the top of her head as she cried in his arms, holding her and giving her comfort as best he could.
And now, after surviving through it all, here she was again. With an outsider who was going to abandon her...Son of a bitch.
Maybe his daughter was right.
Maybe he was a bastard, too.
* * *
Clare cried for the loss of her childhood dream. She mourned the loss of a man she’d loved with such innocence and hope. She grieved the deprivation of a family for herself and for Katie. And she cried for the truth that she hadn’t been enough to keep her husband alive.
She hadn’t cried when Ed died.
She’d sat at the funeral in stunned silence, holding her tiny baby, silently resolving that she would not abandon her daughter the way Ed had. In that moment, she’d shut down her heart, she’d closed off emotions, and she’d gone into full drive to create a safe haven for her daughter.
For fifteen years, she hadn’t slowed down enough to grieve. She hadn’t let herself mourn the life she wasn’t ever going to have. She hadn’t paused to let herself feel the loneliness of an empty bed. She hadn’t dared take a moment to breathe, to feel, to think.
Until now.
Until Griffin had made love to her all night and held her in his arms until dawn.
Until his own pain with his daughter and his kindness to Katie had cracked a hole in Clare’s heart that she couldn’t glue shut anymore.
And now... God, she wished she couldn’t feel anymore. She wished she was the woman she’d been for fifteen years. Because the anguish in her heart, the pain in her soul, the sheer devastation of her spirit was beyond what she could handle.
She should push Griffin away. Run for the door. Climb a mountain and shout her strength from its peak.
But she couldn’t. She simply had nothing left. The weight of fifteen years of fighting on her own was simply too much.
“Come on,” Griffin said as he swept her up in his arms and stood up.
Clare clung to him, unable to stop the tears, the pain, the sobbing, and she didn’t care where he took her. “Just don’t leave me,” she gasped through her tears.
“I won’t.”
Her relief at his reassurance was mind-numbing. How could she be so afraid of being alone? She had to be able to be alone, to handle it on her own. That was her life. That was what she did. She couldn’t get weak.
She couldn’t get weak.
But there were no reserves to draw upon. No courage. No strength. No plucky mantra. Just pain. Grief. Loss. Hopelessness. Griffin felt like her only anchor, the one thing she could hold onto to keep from being sucked down into the abyss.
Griffin set her down on the bed, and she clung to his neck as the bed sank beneath his weight. He rolled onto his side and pulled her into his body, tucking her against him like she was a tiny child and he was a great protector.
In his arms, she felt safe. For the first time in fifteen years, she felt
safe.
She buried her face in his chest and cried, clinging to the feel of his arms around her, of his gentle kisses on her head, of his low whispers of reassurance.
She had no idea how long she cried, but Griffin never moved. He stayed right where he was, holding her until she had no more tears, until she was too drained to cry any longer. She finally lay in exhausted silence in his arms.
“How do you feel?” His question was a whisper as he rubbed her back.
“Empty. Like there’s nothing left inside me at all.” She pressed her face into the curve of his neck, squeezing her eyes closed, using him to hide from her life. How could it feel so good to lean on him? How could it be such a relief to simply let herself be vulnerable and exhausted, turning to him for comfort and strength. She was the one who took care of others. She never let her guard down. She never let herself need anyone to hold her up. She couldn’t afford to, and yet that was exactly what she’d done with Griffin. As terrifying as it was to fall apart, having him there to take care of her was…God…beautiful? A relief? A huge, warm breath of respite from her life?
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “It was time for all that to finally leave.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and tucked herself more tightly into his embrace, wanting to crawl into the comfort he gave her. “I haven’t cried like this before. Not for him.”
“It’s okay to cry,” he said. “It’s always okay to cry.”
New tears filled her eyes at his acceptance of her meltdown. “I have to be strong.”
“Crying doesn’t mean you’re not strong,” he said as he combed her hair back from her face with his fingers. “It means you care.”
“I don’t want to care,” she whispered, clenching her fists against the pain in her chest. “It hurts.”
“I know it does.” Griffin rested his chin on her head in an intimate gesture that softened the sharp edges digging at her heart. “I know it does.”
Clare thought of his nightmare, and how his body had been trembling when she’d woken him up. He did know. He understood. “Thank you,” she whispered, resting her palm on his chest, needing to feel his strength and his warmth.
“You’re welcome.” His voice was careful, too careful. “Clare?”
She tensed in sudden nervousness. “What?”
“I don’t want to make life difficult for you.” He kissed her forehead, and his arms tightened around her. “I know my presence in your life is complicating things for you with the town and your daughter, but also in here.” He laid his hand over her heart. “I can’t stay in Birch Crossing forever. I have a life I need to return to, and I don’t want to do to you what Ed did.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, as tears leaked out. She knew what he was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear it.
“It might be best if I moved out of your place for the rest of my time here. I’ll find a place in another town where I won’t interfere with you and Katie.”
The tears were hot and wet on her cheeks, and Griffin rubbed them away with his thumb.
He grasped her shoulders and gently rolled her onto her back, forcing her to look at him. His face was serious, his expression heavy, but there was tenderness in his eyes that made her want to cry even more. “You need to understand, Clare, that I think you’re amazing. If my life were different, if I were different...” He sighed and brushed her cheek with the back of his hands. “I just want you to know that I don’t want to move out. I want to stay here with you for whatever time we have left.”