“Did he?”
“No.” She tore her eyes away from the wall, dropping them to August. “By my third trimester, he was already checked out. I suspected he’d already found another woman who’d worship him. I was an afterthought by then. When August was a newborn, I told him we were done. He didn’t argue.”
“Has he been involved at all?”
“No. Devan was never going to change. He was never going to make a good father. I didn’t want to put August through any disappointment when Devan made a promise he couldn’t keep. So I gave him an out. I wouldn’t ask for any money or support if he signed over all of his parental rights. Ask me if he put up a fight.”
Of course he hadn’t, the dumb son of a bitch. “I’m sorry you went through all that alone.”
“Don’t be. I had Aria. And Brody. Not long after that, Brody told me he was moving to Welcome, Arizona, and asked if I wanted to come along. A new town. A fresh start. It was a no-brainer.”
Had Brody always planned on offering Clara the opportunity in Arizona? Or had he offered after the fallout with Devan? I had a feeling I wasn’t the only man who did what he could to protect her.
Regardless, Clara and Aria were good allies to have in your corner. Brody was a lucky man to have them both.
Clara blew out a long breath. “After I broke it off with Devan, I’d go through these days when I was so mad at myself for not seeing through his façade. He was . . . attractive. I’m not proud to say that I let his looks cloud my judgment. But when August was a baby, one day I just stopped being mad. At myself. At Devan. I got the best part of him and he was too self-absorbed to realize that when I left Vegas, I took that piece with me.”
“I like the name August.”
She gave me a sad smile. “That was my dad’s name. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No.”
“If I’d had a girl, I would have named her after Mom. Hopefully Aria will have another baby one day and if it’s a girl, she can take that name. Millie. That was her name.”
“Pretty name.”
“I like it too.” She shifted, turning slightly sideways on the couch so August’s head rested in her lap.
The muted light from the TV cast a light glow over the room. They caught the gold flecks in her gaze, making them dance.
How could he have let her go?
How could I have let her go?
Two stupid men.
“I should have come to you anyway. Despite the Facebook pictures. I assumed you were happy and had moved on, but I should have come to find you.”
“Except then I wouldn’t have August.” She gave me a sad smile. “Timing was never on our side, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t.” If I had looked her up a year later, after Devan had been out of the picture, or if she had come here a year earlier, before Holly . . .
Or if at nineteen, I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my mother’s words.
You’re a piece of shit, Karson. You’re worthless.
Get out of my sight. I hate you. I hate looking at you.
You are nothing. A disgrace. You’re a fuckup.
“My mom died,” I blurted.
Clara tensed. “When?”
“Not long before I moved to Elyria. After she died, I wanted to get out of Temecula for good.”
“Is that why you came back here? When Gemma hired the PI the first time, he’d said you were here. That always seemed so crazy to me. I figured you’d be long gone like the rest of us.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I got a call one day when I was living in San Diego the second time from a police officer here in Temecula. Mom had been in a car accident and was in a coma.”
“Karson, I’m so sorry.”
“Should I tell you this? It might be hard to hear.”
“Drunk driver?” she guessed. Her own parents had been killed by a drunk driver, and the last thing I wanted was to cause her any pain.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I’d expected the drunk to be her, but it wasn’t. I think that’s the only reason I came back. If she had hurt someone . . . well, there’s a lot I struggle to forgive my mother for. That would have been a deal breaker.”
“You came back to take care of her, didn’t you?”
“She probably didn’t deserve it. But I did it anyway.” I lifted a shoulder. “It took me a long time to learn that she was sick. That she hated herself so much that it was all she knew. That her taking that hate out on me was because I was the only person she had. And it took me a long time to let go of her ghost. To realize I was not the person she told me I was.”
“You’re a good man, Karson Avery.”
I dropped my eyes to August, curled up between us. This kid didn’t even know how lucky he was to have a mother like Clara.
“After she passed, I felt like I could leave it all behind. That’s when I moved to Elyria.”
“Your fresh start.”
I nodded. “We all needed them, didn’t we?”
“We did.” Clara gave me a sad smile. August squirmed on the couch, an arm flailing in the other direction. Clara scooped him into her arms and pushed up off the couch, carrying him to the adjoining room. The rustle of clothes and the thud of shoes dropping to the floor was my hint to leave.
It was time. It was time to say goodbye. To get back to life in Elyria.
To Holly.
She and I had a shot. We had a chance at a future. I hadn’t felt like that about any woman I’d dated before, not Londyn. Not even Clara. Not the women I’d met along my way. Mostly because I’d been too young, but with Holly, there was a real chance.
Like Clara said herself, timing had never been on our side. Maybe that was for a reason.
I waited for Clara to finish with August. She emerged, closing his bedroom door. Then I spoke the words I’d been dreading all evening. “It’s been so great to see you. To meet August.”
“You too.”
“Good night, Clara.” I spun for the door, ready to make my escape, when she stopped me.
“Wait. What about the box?” Clara went to the small table where we’d left Lou’s box and letters.
The box. Damn it.
“Oh, I forgot about it.” In an effort to get out of here while I still could, before I said or did something that would tarnish these days with Clara, I’d completely forgotten about the box.
The door would have to wait.
She took a chair on one side of the table while I sat in the other. Then she lifted out the box’s contents. Other boxes, all small. “These are jewelry boxes.”
Six in total, in varying colors and sizes. And each of them had a small piece of paper taped to the underside.
“Here you go,” she said, passing over my letter and the navy velvet ring box with my name on it.
I opened the envelope first, pulling out a crisp piece of ecru paper and unfolding it.
* * *
Karson,
These were my wife’s rings. She couldn’t wear them when she was pregnant with our baby because her fingers swelled up like sausages. That’s what she called them. Sausage fingers.
By rights, I should have buried her with them. But that was a hard time. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t realize she hadn’t been wearing the rings in her coffin until I found them in her jewelry box a few weeks later.