Yet only he had been able to see them.
Without thought, Leonora had stepped toward him when she had seen that distant look once more come to his face. She had placed a comforting hand upon his arm, not for a moment thinking about what it could mean to reach out to another. Indeed, to her surprise, it was not hard, not complicated, not frightening. It felt right to offer something of herself after everything he had done for her. “Will you tell me?” she asked again, her voice gentle and her eyes looking up into his in a way she hoped would tell him that he could trust her as she trusted him.
His teeth ground together, and for a moment, Leonora thought he would step away. Fortunately, he stayed, remained where he was, his gray eyes shifting over her face before returning to meet hers, looking deeper. “You are mistaken. There is no—”
“Yes, there is!” Leonora interrupted, taking yet another step closer, her hand upon his arm tightening.
His gaze narrowed, and he glanced down at her hand, confusion swirling in his eyes before he looked up once more. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you need me to,” Leonora replied, surprised to find herself calm and collected. For a moment, she had feared that his pain might overwhelm her, act as a reminder of her own. Yet, her sole focus rested with him. “I feel better now because of you, because you made me face my demons. Is that not what you call them? And I am telling you that you, too, will feel better if you speak about what haunts you.”
Not speaking, Drake simply stared at her, his gaze upon hers, Leonora knew that he was a stubborn man, and she feared for a second that no matter what she said he would not answer her. Then, however, something flashed in his eyes, something that gave her pause. Perhaps, just perhaps, he simply needed a little more persuasion. He needed her to be insistent and determined and strong in the face of his resistance. “You once told me that people often look away and don’t see what is right in front of them. You said that once you were like that, too. Whose pain did you not see?”
His lips pressed into a thin line as a shadow fell over his face. The arm under her hand tensed, and Leonora knew that she was getting through to him. He might not want her to, but he needed her to.
“Who was it? Tell me,” Leonora whispered gently, unable to peek up into his lowered gaze. “A friend? Family?” His teeth ground together more tightly. “Family then,” Leonora concluded, noting the rapid beating of the pulse in his neck. “A sister perhaps? Or…?” Her gaze narrowed as she watched him closely. “Your mother?”
A long breath rushed from his lungs, and Drake abruptly turned away and strode over to the window. There, he stood with his back to her, one hand raking through his hair. For the first time, he seemed forlorn, lost, uncertain. Never had Leonora seen him like this. She could sense deep sadness within him as well as guilt. Yes, from the very first, he had seemed driven by regret. The way he had spoken to her about people being unaware of what was right in front of them. The way he had talked about himself, referring to himself as one of them.
Once.
Yes, he had failed someone or at least believed that he had done so. In truth, Leonora could not imagine him to have committed any such wrong.
Knowing that she could not leave even should she want to, Leonora slowly approached him. He stood with his shoulders slumped, gaze fixed out the window, all but ignoring her. Still, there was something about him that told her that he did not truly wish for her to leave. He needed comfort, whether he liked that fact or not. He simply did. And so, Leonora came to stand behind him, not even an arm’s length away, and once more lifted her hand, placing it on his back between his shoulders, offering comfort and showing him that she was here and that she would not leave.
Drake had done that and more for her, and she would stand by him as well. It was a thought that gave her strength. She was capable after all, and she would not shy away from this. “What happened to her? Was she hurt?” Deep down, Leonora knew that it had to have been worse. After all, she had never seen his mother nor heard anyone speak of her. If she were still alive, would she not be here? In this house? With her son?
The muscles under her hand tensed, contracted almost painfully. “She is dead,” Drake confirmed her thoughts, his voice clipped and distant.
Leonora felt her heart sink, unable to imagine life without her own mother, her family, those who loved her. Never had she heard Drake speak of anyone close to him. Did he not have any family? At least not anymore? “What happened to her?” She asked yet again, knowing somehow that expressing condolences would be something unwanted to him. “How did she die? When?” Perhaps that last question would be easier to answer.
His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “Five years ago.”
Leonora swallowed. “Were you there?”
“I was too late.” Anger at himself resonated in his voice.
“How did she die?”
Unexpectedly, Drake spun around and his hands seized her wrists, yanking her closer. “You don’t want to know,” he snarled, emotions so vividly upon his face that Leonora gasped.
Deep down, Leonora had to admit that, yes, he frightened her. Not because she feared what he might do to her, but because she worried about what he was doing to himself. “Yes, I do. Please, tell me.”
His teeth gritted together, and he began to shake his head from side to side. “It would haunt your dreams. As it haunts mine. You would not be able to look at me again.”
A deep frown came to Leonora’s face for the mere thought of it was utterly ludicrous to her. “Tell me, and I will prove you wrong. How did she die?” Leonora pushed herself up onto her toes, bringing her face closer to his, her gaze imploring and insistent as it held onto his. “Tell me!”
He scoffed, and it was a dark sound. She saw his jaw tense, the muscles clenching and unclenching as he contemplated what to do, what to say, what to reveal to her. Then, all of a sudden, he spat the words. “She killed herself. She cut her own wrists and bled to death upon her own bed.” For a split second, his gaze darted upward, and Leonora knew that at least in his mind he still saw it. It was the moment that haunted him.
“You found her,” Leonora said, knowing with absolute certainty that it had been so. “You were the one to find her, were you not?”
His hands tightened upon her wrists, and he nodded.
“Why?” Especially after what had happened to her, Leonora could imagine countless reasons for why a woman might do such a thing, for why anyone might do such a thing. Indeed, the world could be a truly ugly place, a place one could not endure on one’s own. Was that what he was blaming himself for? For leaving her alone?
After a long while, Drake all but bowed his head; although, the anger in his eyes remained. “My father had always been an unfeeling man,” he finally gritted out, every fiber of his being clenched in anger and pain that Leonora feared her wrists might snap in two. “That was no secret. My parents rarely spent time in each other’s company. Few spouses do, don’t they? It is the norm, and so, I never thought about it much.” A low growl rose from his throat. “I should have though. I should have.”
Imagining such a fate, locked in a marriage to a dangerous man, Leonora felt a familiar tremor snake down her back. It felt cold and paralyzing, overwhelming and deeply crippling.