Page 55 of The Virgin's Dance
Pilot’s eyebrows raised. “You’ve been out? How long was I asleep?”
“About four hours.”
“You should have woken me.” He stole a piece of pear and crunched down on it, the sweet juices running down his chin. Boh grinned and kissed it away.
“Nah, you needed to sleep. That’s what this vacation is about. When this nugget comes, neither of us will get much.” She patted her belly. Pilot put his hand over the small bump, splaying his fingers.
“I hope it’s a girl,” he said now, but couldn’t go on. Boh stroked his face.
“You know, if you want to talk about your daughter, you can. It might help.”
Pilot shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet, Boh. I can’t.”
She brushed her lips against his. “Okay, sweetheart. When you’re ready.”
But he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to talk about it. The pain was just too searing. His murdered child.Christ …
“Pilot, want to come help me fire this grill up?”
They worked together to prepare their supper of grilled fish and vegetables, followed by the fruit salad. A bottle of white wine later, and they cuddled up on one of the sun loungers to watch the sunset.
“Could we be more cliché?” Boh chuckled and Pilot laughed.
“I don’t care. All lovers should do this at least once in a lifetime.” He tangled his fingers in her long hair and tilted her face up so he could kiss her. “This was a good idea to come here, Boh. Thank you.”
“Your mom and I conspired,” she said with a laugh. Since the wedding, she and Pilot’s mom, Blair, had grown even closer, much to Pilot’s joy—and Boh’s. Her own relationship with her birth family was non-existent now. She hadn’t invited them to the wedding—in place of her father walking her down the aisle, she had chosen Grace to accompany her.
Pilot pressed his lips against her forehead. This young woman was his life now, his family. Tomaso had been born, and the love he felt for his son was limitless. The little boy, so full of joy and mischief, adored both his parents, and they doted on him. When Boh had told him she wanted to go back to work so soon after Tomi’s birth, Pilot had been supportive. “Boh, I’ll stay home with Tomi—your career is important to both of us. All of us.”
And he’d loved it, staying home with Tomi, bonding with his son. Taking him to play with other kids, Boh teased Pilot that the mommies would all fall in love with Pilot. He rolled his eyes, and actually, there were a couple of other stay-at-home dads with whom he had become friendly.
He’d never talked to Boh about how he thought about his dead daughter at those times. How she would be old enough to appreciate her half-brother right now. He had known that he was going to leave Eugenie for the good of both himself and their child. He’d readied everything, the divorce lawyer, the case of full custody, all with burner phones and the help of his mother and sister.
Then a temp secretary from his lawyer’s office misread the file and called the house directly. Eugenie talked to her and guessed what he was doing. She played it as if she were sad but resigned, even treated him with respect and not the usual screeching harpy he’d been living with for the past few years. Had they ever been happy? During the months of her pregnancy, there were hints of what it had been like at the beginning; joyful, happy, together.
Eugenie waited until the eighth month to kill their child. Even now, having heard it from her lips, he couldn’t believe the sheer cruelty of it. He had been ready to be a father, ready for that responsibility, almost too excited, and she had known it.
Pilot shivered now and Boh looked up, her lovely eyes concerned. “Okay?”
He forced a smile. “Never better.”
He would bet all the money in the world that Boh, his sweetheart, his soulmate, knew he was lying.
Boh stepped into the shower and slipped her arms around Pilot’s waist. She pressed her lips to the scars on his back from Eugenie’s knife, then, as he turned, to the jagged surgery scars over his heart. God, how close she had been to losing him. Months and months of rehabilitation, and she still woke up from nightmares where his damaged heart gave out and she lost him.
She said nothing as she gazed up at him. The water from the shower dripped down, plastering his curls to his face. He was in all kinds of pain, she could see that, and today … she would try to break him, make him face it. She and Blair had come up with the plan, but it terrified her. She’d brought him to this secluded, private place so he could break. He could rage, scream at her, break things—and it would be okay. Nothing he could say to her in the midst of his pain would ever make her leave him. Boh knew she had to do this to him so he could heal.
After showering, they dressed, chatting idly, then as they walked into the living room, Pilot smiled at her. “So, what shall we do today? We could explore the island.”
“No.” Boh reached out her hand and he took it. “No, today we’re staying in. Today, Pilot, my darling love, today we’re just going to talk.”
Pilot stared at her, and she could see in his eyes that he knew what she was doing. He shook his head. “No.”
“Yes.”
Pilot tugged his hand away and paced away from her. “Don’t do this.”
“What was her name?”
