Scars Read online

  She shrugged. “Up to now, you’ve been with me when I’ve gone through some difficult times.”

  Really? He snickered. “Nothing you’ve been through has been difficult. On the scale of what could have happened to you, this is all minor. It’s time to get over you.”

  He hadn’t meant to let that spew, but it was the truth and therefore he didn’t wish to retract the words and neither would he apologize. Paris had gone through so much worse than Robin and she’d never complained. He knew they were different people, and he thanked God he’d seen this moment today because it highlighted their differences in a big way.

  Robin had the surgeries available. So many people didn’t. She had a rough go of it. But there was a time to end that self-pity, too. So what if her face was disfigured? So what if she was sick of hospitals? Life was like that. Sure she’d lost her brother and the rest of her family and that just sucked. But this was too much “poor me” stuff. He wanted her to buck up and get over this mess.

  “Wow.”

  He never said a word; he pulled the truck to a stop at the red light and glared out the window. “You live the life of the entitled,” he snapped, “You have so much and all you can do is focus on the things you don’t have.”

  “You mean like most people do.”

  “Maybe they do, but that doesn’t mean they should.”

  “And what makes you so sure about what I should do?” she asked, but at least there was heat in her voice, anger in her tone.

  “Good. Get mad. Feel something. Anything is better than always shutting down. That makes you…”

  “A victim. Yes, I know,” she said, her voice calmer but still strident. “But you don’t need to speak to me that way; I do it enough for both of us.”

  “And there’s that damn self-pity again. Whatever else is burning a hole in your gut, get it out and get over it. This is a slow painful death. And over what?”

  He glared at her, his own temper building to the point he was likely to say more than he should. He’d probably already had. He revved the truck engine and hit the gas too hard, spinning the tires slightly on the wet pavement as the truck lurched forward. He watched her grab for her arm rest. And that just made him angry.

  “You don’t know what pain is. You don’t know what rejection is.” He snorted. “And for all your losses, you still haven’t learned to roll with the punches.”

  She snarled in outrage, “What, so because I wasn’t abused all my life, I don’t have the right to feel my own anguish? I don’t have the right to be upset because your life was so much worse than mine was? Is this a fucking contest?” Her voice rose to a high pitch at the end.

  “Hell no.” He half laughed. “If it were, you’d have lost a long time ago.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to feel what I feel.”

  “Of course you can feel it. But feeling it and wallowing in it is not the same thing.”

  There was only silence for the rest of the trip. When they reached the hotel, she hopped out of the truck, slammed the door close, and ran inside ahead of him. He didn’t know if that was to avoid him or to get out of the rain. That question was answered as she raced ahead to the wall of elevators. He followed close enough to see her step into the elevator, the door closing in his face.

  He took the stairs three at a time, a dozen words boiling upwards. He came out onto the floor to see her walking to her room. No, not walking – running. She made it to her door, fumbled in her purse for her card, and finally managed to find it. She opened her door just in front of him, entering just as he reached her. She turned, saw him, and jumped back.

  “What, did you come to gloat?” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “No,” he said, hating the pain he’d caused. She’d needed to hear the words, but he wished he hadn’t been the one to say them. He took a deep breath and broke his own long-time rule. “I came to apologize.”

  Chapter 18

  Apologize? She wanted to rip his head off. But his words broke the dam and instead of yelling at him, the tears flowed faster. He gave a muffled curse and suddenly she was tugged into his arms. She didn’t want this. Not from him. But instead of pulling back, she was blubbering all over him. Worse yet, his comfort was working.

  Damn.

  She let the hot tears slow before finally stepping back to look up at him. “Sorry,” she said, trying to speak in a normal voice and knew she’d failed when he snatched her back against his chest. A few straggling tears leaked. She sniffed a couple of times and tried to raise her hand to wipe her eyes, but her arms were pinned against his chest. A strong, whipcord-lean chest. Nice. She sighed. God, she was a mess. She should be slapping him silly for holding her like this, but all she could think about was that lean muscle beneath her hands…just waiting for her touch. Not that that was likely to happen. Too bad. She loved sex. Adored the sense of intimacy, of being part of a special twosome.

  God, she missed that. And now that her libido had awakened…

  She tugged her hand free and swiped at her cheeks. She must look a mess. “Excuse me,” she muttered. His arms dropped away, letting her step back. She escaped into the bathroom. There, she stared at her ravaged face in the mirror. And damn if her tears didn’t start to pour all over again. Still sniffling, she turned on the water and washed her face, hoping the cold water would help the puffy redness. She delayed as long as she could. What were the chances that he had left her alone?

  If she’d read him right, none at all.

  She didn’t know where his harsh words came from, but he’d been right. Maybe not right to say such things to her, but he’d been right to have thought them. And she’d needed to hear them. As if the hospital visits weren’t enough to remind her that her life could be so much worse.

  When had it all become too much? She studied the left side of her face. When had she stopped planning for a better future? When had she really given up on the idea of finding love again? After the accident? Recently or somewhere in that long uphill climb in between.

  Drained and thinking she’d somehow lost her way, she opened the door to find him still standing where she’d left him. She stopped just out of arm’s reach. “Thank you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “For being mean? For making you cry?” His voice hard and full of self-recrimination.

  “No,” she said gently, “For the reminder that life could be so much worse.” She shrugged. “You were right. I was wallowing. It’s an easy thing to do.” She twisted her lips in a half smile. “As much as I don’t like what you said, I needed to hear it.”

  She walked to the still open door and opened it wider. “You can leave now. I’m not going to do anything stupid.” She was trying to give him a way out. He made no move to take it.

  “Then as I said those truths, maybe you’ll also listen when I say this truth. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

  She made a strangled sound, her hand already moving in a dismissive gesture when he reached out and caught her hand. “Stop. I’ve spoken the truth in all ways. Now listen.”

  She stilled. Her gaze locked on his face. Why would he say such a thing? As she searched his features, she realized another truth. He believed what he was saying. He was obviously blind but from his perspective, he believed she was beautiful.

  Something inside loosened, warmed. She realized yet another bit of her icy shield around her heart had thawed again.

  She sighed. And shook her head. “You need glasses.”

  “No, I don’t.” He smiled gently. “I can see you’re working on your issues. That you are stuck on your exterior appearance. That you can’t see the brave, valiant woman that I see. I’m sorry for that. Because if you could, you’d realize that you’d already accomplished so much this week, and it’s not half over.”

  There was such a mix of emotions inside that she felt heavy, fatigued to the point of not being able to walk any further. Good thing she was already in her room. She slipped around him to sit on her bed. There w
as nothing intimate about the setting. Not like there could have been with having a man in her bedroom.

  She rubbed her hand on her temple. “I’m trying to deal with my issues and failing miserably. I’m trying not to get hung up on my appearance, but that’s a bit too big a step for me right now. All I see is the breakdown of who I am. The utter worthlessness inside. There are so many people worse off. I have nothing to complain about. See, you were right.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I was harsh and cold. I knew you needed to be smacked out of your self-pity, but I don’t want you to take it so far that you can’t see how well you’re doing.”

  “I’m not doing well at all.” She lay back on her bed. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and have the world go away. “Are you sure you’re not a shrink?”

  He laughed and sat down beside her. “No way.”

  But there was a tone to his voice. She looked over at him. “What?”

  There was a slight hesitation, then he said, “Nothing.”

  It was her turn to frown at him. “What, so you can poke and prod at others but not share anything yourself?”

  But the moment was gone. He shrugged and with a lopsided grin said, “Those that can…”

  She reached out and slugged him.

  *

  Sean laughed. He reached out and tugged her forward into his arms and gave her a hug. A real hug. A gentle, non-threatening, hey-I’m-here-for-you type of hug. And was inexorably grateful when she didn’t pull away. He’d been harsh on her. But it had worked and wonder of wonders, she appeared to have forgiven him.

  “Let’s go for dinner. Food will help settle the nerves.”

  She pulled back slightly. Her face was still punchy, but the smile was back in her eyes. “Thanks.”

  “Stop. Don’t thank me. You are helping me as much as I’m helping you.”

  “Now if only I believed that.” She studied his face carefully. “And the only way I could is if you’d explain.”

  He opened his mouth to push her off again and was surprised to hear the truth slide out. “I came for my sister’s sake.”

  Robin tilted her head, her gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Explain.”

  “Can we do this over a meal? I’m starved.”

  “As long as you do so.” She grinned. “Although how you could be after that huge lunch, I don’t know. Let’s go.”

  They headed down to the restaurant and instinctively headed to the corner. Sean let her take her seat while he sat across from her. They barely had a chance to sit before the waitress was there with menus.

  “I don’t need a menu,” he said and proceeded to order the house burger with fries. He waited as Robin smiled brightly up at waitress and said, “Make that two.”

  Damn, he liked that. A girl who could eat. And never whined about watching her weight or complaining about being on a diet. He’d seen Robin in a swimsuit and damn, but she was built. Nicely rounded yet slim and long lean limbs. Just the way he liked them.

  After that, the waitress delivered water then coffee. By the time she’d left them alone, Sean realized Robin was itching for answers.

  She leaned forward. “Well?”

  He grinned. “Let me explain.” And he proceeded to tell her about Paris trying to get into the workshop but being told to wait and asking him to attend for her.

  Robin leaned back and stared at him. She slowly replaced the cup of coffee she’d been holding. “Wow. That’s a wonderfully weird thing to do.”

  That startled a laugh out of him. “I guess it’s odd but as she asked…” He shrugged. “I love her. She’s trying to heal, and if there is anything I can do to help her succeed in that direction, I’m willing to do it,” he said simply.

  He studied her glistening eyes in confusion. “Why are you crying now?”

  She sniffled several times but smiled though the tears. “It’s a wonderful thing to do. I’m glad you care so much about her.”

  “She’s had a tough life.” He shrugged self-consciously, feeling exposed. He wasn’t used to sharing his personal life. And never his personal feelings. Still, he owed Paris a debt he could never repay. “She was there for me all those years. There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for her.”

  “I can’t imagine what your childhood must have been like.”

  “We had no childhood,” he said shortly, hating the sharp edge of anger rising up inside. The pain. The betrayal. No child should have to deal with what he and his sister had dealt with. No one person should – child or adult. Just as suddenly as it came, the anger sank back down.

  “No, I imagine not.” Robin took a sip of her coffee. “What does your sister do?”

  “She’s a nurse and works with children.”

  That brought Robin’s eyebrows up. “Like where we were today?”

  “Sort of, but not quite.” He shook his head. “She works in the maternity ward.”

  “Good for her. I’m not sure I could do that job.”

  “She’s a gentle soul.” He smiled. “And she loves babies.”

  “Sounds like she should have a dozen of her own.”

  “That won’t ever happen.” He couldn’t help it. His voice hardened as the memories piled into his brain and plugged up his thinking. Paris’s abuse had been different than his but just as violent. Just as insidious and just as permanent.

  Robin gasped in sympathy. “I’m so sorry for her. It’s one thing to not be able to have children if that’s not something you particularly cared to do, but if it is…” She winced then added, “I can’t imagine anything worse.”

  Sean nodded. “She struggles with it sometimes. She loves to see the happy mothers, the beloved children. Every once in a while it’s tough on her. Particularly when she has mothers in having their third and fourth and not wanting to be having the child. Stuck by circumstances or timing or just not caring enough to do something about not getting pregnant. And all she can do is help the woman through the process. Sometimes they are very voluble about their dislike of the whole process and in particular the child.”

  “Oh no.” Robin shook her head. “It’s a terrible thing in today’s world to think of such a problem. Every child deserves to have a loving home and adoring parents. At least one parent.”

  “I feel the same way,” Sean said. “Then again, I don’t plan to have any kids, so it’s not a big deal for me.”

  He stared out the window, feeling the intensity of Robin’s gaze heat up. There was no way to explain that he was afraid he had more of his father in him that he suspected. That he’d rather kill himself than hurt a child like he’d been hurt. That he’d never want to be the kind of father like his own and that genetically it was all too possible. The pain had to stop somewhere, and he’d chosen to make sure it stopped with him.

  “Maybe Paris will be able to adopt a half dozen, and then you’ll have lots of nieces and nephews to practice your parenting skills on,” Robin said lightly.

  “No practice required. But I do think I’d enjoy being an uncle.”

  At that moment their food arrived, breaking the conversation at a great place. Sean tucked in.

  Chapter 19

  Robin’s shoulders and back were knotted again. She rotated her shoulders and winced. Between the stress and fears, she’d locked her muscles, and they’d retaliated by staying locked. She was going to have to go to the pool and hot tub again. She’d left Sean outside in the hallway. He’d looked as if he wanted to say something to her. Do something. Invite her somewhere. She’d needed to be alone.

  Only now that she was alone…she didn’t want to be.

  She’d checked her emails and studied her notes for tomorrow, thinking to get ahead on the assignments, only to find her mind unable to focus.

  Now she had to wonder if her real wish to go to the pool had more to do with the possibility that Sean might go there as well. Or he could be sitting in the bar. She tossed that suggestion aside. She didn’t think he was a drinker. Not a heavy one anyway. That would mean it was all righ
t to lose control. She highly suspected control was important to him.

  He’d held her with that same careful control. She couldn’t believe how much she missed being held by a man. One who cared? Sean didn’t care about her more than what they were to each other through this course… but she was starting to realize she wanted him to. Would he want to stay in touch after this week was over? She pondered that question while she got changed into her bathing suit. She had no idea where in the lower mainland he lived. She thought everyone in the workshop attended UBC, but she hadn’t seen anything to indicate that Sean was a student.

  He also wasn’t here for himself.

  She had mixed feelings about that. It was like he wasn’t supposed to be here. Wasn’t trying to heal like the rest of them. She’d have tacked on that he wasn’t as broken as the others in the workshop, but she was realizing that in many ways, he was likely worse. Those in the workshop were at least admitting that they had problems and were willing to work on them. Not only willing but eager. Sean, by contrast, hadn’t acknowledged he had a problem. At least not to her.

  Although he’d been very good with the children. And how he could be, she didn’t know. Given what he’d shared about his childhood, she had to wonder at the scars. He had many outside, but there were just as many on the inside.

  How could there not be?

  Still, he was remarkably normal.

  Because of his sister.

  There’d been love and support between them. A bond she imagined had been forged in hell. A bond that had kept them alive. Kept them sane. They’d both survived and thrived as well as they could, but they’d also hit that point where they couldn’t do much more on their own. They needed help. Paris knew it. She’d been looking to come to the workshop. Robin could only imagine her disappointment.

  From what little Sean had shared about her, Robin felt a kinship. She’d love to meet her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her at the evening sessions. Then again, she hadn’t seen Sean there either. Although lately Robin had been missing more classes as it became harder to force herself out of her home. That tiny space had become an all-too-comfortable jail cell.