The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(5)
“Don’t count on it,” he grumbled.
They stared at each other, their entire history now ringing in their ears at a pitch not audible to any other human. Was she so naive as to think that moving on could erase the pain of wasted love? Perhaps that was what she told herself to ease her own guilt for how she’d treated him.
The pause in conversation gave him an opportunity to study her. The ponytail—reminiscent of her soccer days—suggested she still wore her chocolate-brown hair in a simple, long, blunt style. Her hazel eyes, flecked with gold and framed by heavy, dark brows, flashed her emotions like always. The cute oval face that had imprinted itself on his heart looked nearly the same as his memory of her, except for the absence of her playful smile. Those work shorts proved years of playing soccer and doing manual labor had kept her legs toned as ever, too.
She swallowed hard before clearing her throat. “Your mom wants the finished space to have lots of windows and a French door. That’s as far as we got.”
“Well, it’s her house, so I have no opinions.” He turned to leave before he did or said something even less kind.
“Ryan.”
Hearing her say his name stopped him for a second, but he didn’t turn around.
She sighed again. “I think she wants this to be someplace you and your daughter can be comfortable, so if you want a big TV or whatever, I’d like to know so I can plan for it.”
He glanced over his shoulder. How many evenings had he and Steffi hung out here, candles lit, listening to rain on the roof while making out? Every spot in the whole damn house contained a shared memory, some better than others. There’d been a time when he would’ve bet nothing could’ve come between them. He’d considered himself the luckiest in love until she’d broken and humbled him.
Between that and Val’s recent whopper, he’d taken a hard look at his judgment of people lately. “I won’t be here long enough for that to matter.”
He didn’t know how true that was, but he’d hoped he’d find his own place in six or so months. For now, he needed to conserve money to pay for his divorce. In his mind, Val didn’t deserve one cent of his hard-earned paycheck, especially not after leaving her daughter behind to move in with her sugar daddy. The court would probably disagree.
When Steffi had left him, he’d cried and prayed and secretly hoped for a reconciliation. When Val bailed, he’d shed no tears. Instead, he’d put their house on the market the next day rather than waste emotional energy on another woman who didn’t want him. He’d found a new assistant public defender job in Hartford and decided to take advantage of a rent-free situation until he had a better idea of what to expect. In the meantime, his mom wasn’t just the cheapest after-school day care around but also the most reliable.
“I’m sorry about your marriage—” Steffi sputtered.
She should be sorry. He wouldn’t have hooked up with Val if he hadn’t been on the rebound from Steffi’s head games. Granted, Val’s unplanned pregnancy during senior year had pushed that relationship someplace it probably shouldn’t have gone, although he couldn’t regret having Emmy. His daughter gave him purpose and filled his life with immeasurable love. “My marriage is off-limits. I advise you to let it lie.”
“Noted, Counselor.” The sharp edge in her voice goaded him, so he faced her fully for another stare-down. Being a lawyer who regularly contended with criminals and cops made these kinds of contests too easy. She dropped her gaze, then looked up again, her expression softened. “Listen, it looks like I’ll be here working for a couple of months, so it’d be nice if we could get off on a better foot. Maybe we could even be friends.”
He snorted. “No, thanks. Friendship requires trust, and I don’t trust you. So you can go back to treating me exactly like you did in college. Pretend I don’t even exist. It gutted me back then, but now it suits me fine.”
Bam! For three seconds, the overdue release of pent-up anger made him feel ten feet tall. But then her slumped shoulders and red cheeks reversed his high, sinking him as low as a man could go.
She smoothed her shortalls again, her face now a mask of indifference.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, especially since it seems to have changed you into someone I might not like.” She unwound her tape measure and started walking along the far edge of the patio. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”
He’d changed, no doubt. She’d started that ball rolling. Then his wife and his job had exposed him to even more injustice, making him cynical and, sometimes, bitter.
Steffi had been just shy of twenty when she’d blown him off. A decade ago. They’d both been different people then, and maybe she’d changed, too. Maybe she even regretted how she’d handled things. But he certainly had more important things to worry about than her or any lingering hurt feelings.
He couldn’t make himself apologize for snapping at her now, so he pointed to the right corner of the room. “Might be nice to have my fifty-five-inch screen mounted over there.”
She paused and glanced at him. “I’ll be sure to factor that in.”
“Thanks.” He needed a shower. The damp, sandy suit had started to make him itch. “See you around.”
He walked into the kitchen to find Emmy fingers-deep in a mug of milk and soggy cookie crumbles. Little sugar puddles lay scattered on the table all around her.