Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [113]
Staring into his demanding eyes, she wondered -- had it ever been him? She'd set her sights on him and made sure she got an introduction. She'd learned everything she could about him, his likes, dislikes, ambitions, fears, and she'd made herself into the perfect wife-to-be. She wouldn't apologize for it. She'd been a good wife. She'd given him children, managed his house, taken over his company, made his life simple and easy. "You've had it good, David. You have nothing to complain about. You had what you needed."
"I didn't have love."
She shook her head, remembering those same words coming out of her poor, drunken mother's mouth. "What is love, anyway? It doesn't pay the bills. It doesn't get you through life. It doesn't make trouble go away. You have to fight for things. You have to take care of yourself." She walked back to the side of his bed. "Haven't you figured that out yet?"
"I figured out I couldn't depend on you, except for the basics of our life together. What about friendship? Companionship? Caring? Kindness?"
"Is that what she gives you?"
"She did at one time."
His gaze was clear and direct. She found herself feeling uncomfortable, but she wasn't the one who was wrong; he was. So why was she feeling as if she had to explain or justify her own actions? "Don't turn this around on me."
"Was I doing that?"
"I never walked out on you. I never cheated on you."
"You never wanted anyone more than you wanted the store. That's why you didn't cheat. It wasn't out of faithfulness to me; it was out of your desperate need to keep your position. That's what you love. That's the only thing you love."
"That's not true," she said, her voice shakier than she wanted it. "I love Paige. And I loved Elizabeth. And at one time I even loved you, dammit. Is that what you want to hear? Well, there it is. When we first got married, I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world, because you didn't just have everything I wanted; you were everything I wanted—funny and passionate and charming. But when things got tough, I couldn't count on you. And you're right, I want more for my life than someone who drops in and out of it every few weeks, whose heart is on another continent. If I'm cold, it's because it got damn chilly in our bed."
"You locked your door against me. The day Elizabeth died, you turned away. Every night that week you went into your room alone, and every morning when you came out, there was another piece of you that you'd hidden away from me. It was the same with my father. When my mother and sister died in that car crash, he turned away. He couldn't love me, because I had survived. Just like you couldn't love me, because Elizabeth was gone and I was still there."
His words shocked her to the core with a truth she couldn't refute. She put a hand to her heart, feeling weak. A moment later she was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking into the eyes of a man she had never really seen. "You never said that before."
"I was hoping you'd figure it out for yourself. You were so damn smart about everything else."
"I—I never wished you dead in her place."
"It doesn't matter anymore, does it, Vicky? Were done. We've been done for a long time. What are we trying to hang on to, anyway? What do we have left? Why don't you just give me a divorce and call it quits? You can have the store. You can have whatever you want."
"And what will you have?" she asked. "Will you have her?"
"I hurt Jasmine more than I ever hurt you," David said with brutal honesty. "I used her for comfort and friendship and kindness. When she got pregnant, I gave her money to get an abortion, money she threw back in my face. When she had Alyssa, I offered to send support, but she turned me down. For years I didn't give Jasmine or our daughter one penny of my money. Finally, Jasmine broke down. She needed help. Her family had turned against her because she'd