Page 37 of Impossible Love

Wait.

He’s concerned about me.

I glance around to be sure no one else is leaning against this particular wall.

I must be reading him wrong. There’s no love lost between us. Lust, sure. There’s way too much of that. But not concern. I don’t matter to him, as a person.

Surely not.

But he’s still looking at me. There’s a question in his eyes, and I find myself nodding back at him in reply. I’m not certain what I’m agreeing with, but he needs something from me in this moment.

I’m fine, I tell him with my nod. Take care of your family. And then I find myself giving him the same questioning look, making that same, are-you-okay? inquiry with my eyes.

He runs a hand over his hair and nods ever so slightly. It’s the same barely noticeable nod he gave me last night at the hot tub, so subtle that I’d have missed it if I weren’t laser-focused on him. I guess it’s Cal’s way of saying the message has been received.

He turns back to his brothers and away from me. I let go of the breath I’ve been holding. This is a lot. This whole thing… it’s too intense.

I’m not used to family scenes. I’m not used to families who are connected, bound by love and honor and shared history. A family like the MacLaines. This is a family that would do anything for each other.

I’m an only child of a mother I barely remember and a father who only notices me when I either fuck up royally or excel beyond his wildest expectations. With Mom gone, I got sent to boarding school to stay out of his hair. I’ve never once heard him say “How was your day?” or “What’s going on in your life?” I long ago accepted that my father is a cold, hard, and no-nonsense man. He keeps a balance sheet of investments out, profits in, even with his child.

If he gives anything to me, it means he expects something of equal or greater value in return. Like this assignment. He’s given me a high-dollar deal to close on my own. He expects I’ll come back with everything done to his exact requirements.

Maybe I should slip out, go outside and let the family be together.

That’s when I notice Jasmine. She’s crawled up on her father’s lap and is nodding off in his arms. Finlay is her dad. He’s the second oldest, and Summer told me that his wife died in childbirth, eight years ago, which is heartbreaking. I don’t mean to, but I stare in awe at how much he loves his daughter, and how easily he shows it. It seems to come naturally to him, like he doesn’t have to remind himself how to be a good parent. It’s baffling to me.

And awfully sad.

I’ve never been Jasmine. No one has ever held me like that. Not even in the midst of unspeakable trauma.

The last moment I got to spend in my mother’s company was in an emergency room like this one. With two important differences. It was a much bigger place, louder and busier. And there was no one there to embrace me, to assure me that everything would be all right.

That’s why I’ve never been able to understand the dynamics of big family dinners or holiday traditions. If a college friend invited me to join her large clan for their celebrations, I was always overwhelmed. And it’s why I can’t wrap my head around hospital waiting rooms overflowing with loved ones.

Hot tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. Absolutely not. I refuse to allow it. This isn’t about me. I’m just some stranger who needed a ride from the airport. These are not my people, and this is not my place.

I grab my bag and bury my face in it, pretending to hunt around for something in my purse, and then I slowly sneak out the front doors to stand outside in the night air.

I can’t deny it. I enjoy being on the edges of the MacLaine family. If only for a week. Soon enough, I’ll be back to my penthouse apartment.

Alone.

Chapter 22

Victoria

I sit down and drop my head, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears. I sit like that for a long while, pulling myself together, trying to breathe, dividing my own loss and sadness from the present.

I don’t know how much time goes by when I feel a gentle tug on my sleeve.

I look up to see Jasmine. She’s reaching for my hand. “Hi, Victoria.”

I sit up, a bolt of fear going through me. I see Summer standing behind Cal’s niece, and I ask her the question I’m not sure I want the answer to: “Is Evander all right?”

“We’re going to get ice cream!” Jasmine’s face lights up with a huge smile. “Uncle Evander’s waking up, and he’s going to be fine. Nurse Phoebe just said so! But he’s going to be very froggy because of Anastasia.”

“She means groggy from anesthesia.” Summer rests her hands on Jasmine’s shoulders and looks down at me. “Whad’ya say we ditch the sausage fest?” She announces this like she’s speaking to an auditorium full of people.

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