Page 69 of Perfect Composition
“Who?”
“MyPaige. I’ve missed her.”
I shake my head as I push to my feet to head into the kitchen. “You have a million people who slid into your life, Beckett. Until…this, you forgot all about me.”
“Wrong. I never forgot about you.”
“Try pulling the other one.”
“I’m a man who may be expected to be the world’s best friend but who is very alone in it.” Beckett stands and follows me.
“Right. That’s what I’d call it.”
“Don’t believe everything you’ve read about me. Ask me if you have questions about my life, Paige, and I’ll do the same.”
I begin to put lids on the food, avoiding him.
He slaps his hand on the counter. “Ask me, Paige. What’s the worst thing you read? What’s the worst thing lying between us being friends again?”
I whirl on him. “The things that lie between us are not because of the things printed. They’re because of the fact I had things to hide—because I was alone in this. Part of me doesn’t give a shit that I hid the accusations of drugs, the parties, or the women from your daughter. The part of me that does is the part that would have resented it if you werehere. If you had a hand in raising her. That’s the part of me that resents you. What little girl should know her absentee father is off touring a strange land doing God knows what with God knows who?”
His eyes drift shut as if the pain is too much to bear. “That’s why you never told her.”
“Kids learn to dish out crap young. You’re damn straight I protected Austyn by not telling her about you until she was of age. Can you imagine her growing up in a world where some little shit came up to my pigtailed princess with a tabloid sheet of her daddy’s ass hanging out after he banged some groupie when he got caught by some tabloid? I’d have killed them.” Ignoring his pale face, I forge on. “So, no. I don’t believe everything I’ve ever read about you. But don’t you stand there and expect me to accept the fact you’ve spent the last twenty years missing me when you’re some shit-hot guy who can be with anyone you want. Because you obviously didn’t want to be here.”
With that, I shove past him and out of the kitchen. I’ve made it to the stairs when I hear him call out, “Paige? Who showed you those tabloids? Since I know that shit ended very early in my career…”
I interrupt him. “Haven’t you figured it out, Beckett? Only three people knew you were Austyn’s father. And they made damn sure to protect me.” I jerk up my chin. “Much like your guys here.”
With that, I dash up the stairs and prepare for another day where I’ll sit by my father’s bed and fetch him ice chips, praying he lives so I can kill him when he’s better.
Hours later, I toss and turn in my bed. Too much weighs on my mind, and acid churns in my gut. I want a drink of milk, and I need some time out on the lanai.
Just to be.
Just to sort things out.
With a heavy sigh, I slide from my bed and zip up a thin sweatshirt. My mind just won’t shut off. It’s a few days until Christmas. I’m hopeful my suitcase will arrive tomorrow from the Plaza with Paige’s gifts.
As quietly as I can so I don’t disturb Kane, I make my way down to the kitchen and pull out the milk and grab a clean glass, careful not to disturb him as I make my way out the back door before sitting in my favorite chaise.
“One more burden to carry. How many am I supposed to bear?” I ask the quiet night air.
And suddenly, I can’t handle it any longer—the residual fear of Beckett finding out about our child, my realizations about my father, his heart attack and subsequent operation. And the one thing that has my emotional barometer jumping like crazy—Beckett giving a damn enough to bring Austyn to Texas. No, that’s not quite right. That is well within what I could imagine him doing. It’s him staying here by our sides that doesn’t fit. My tears begin falling faster, hotter.
And then I hear his voice behind me. “If you’d let someone help you, it would be easier.”
I whirl around, brushing the tears off my face. “How long have you been there?” My arms wrap around myself protectively.
“Long enough to know you need a friend. Talk to me, Paige. Please.” And there’s something poignant about the way Beckett says that last word that makes me relax slightly.
“What do you want to know?”
“Will you tell me about our daughter?”
I can feel each and every muscle in my body start to relax, especially my heart. “It would be my pleasure.” I scoot over on the double-wide lounger and pat the space next to me. “Sit down. This might take a while.”
He hesitates for just a moment before he joins me. “What didyoufeel when you found out you were pregnant? Were you scared? Happy?”
