“Depends on your perspective. I can’t believe we jumped into bed without ever considering the consequences. We should have given some thought to Peter’s reaction before we jeopardized your relationship by getting involved. And the fact that we didn’t is telling.”
It sure was. Mike had no illusions. Carly’s emotional withdrawal now wasn’t aimed at protecting Peter, but herself. “Getting involved. Is that what you’d call it?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t you?”
“Hell, no. We had sex. Isn’t that what you’re trying to say? A purely physical relationship, no strings, no ties, no caring involved.”
She winced at his blunt description of what they’d shared, and at that moment Mike hated himself for hurting her. But he knew damn well what she was thinking. That by keeping their relationship on a purely sexual plane, she could equate it to her father’s affair... and all the subsequent pain it had caused. Instead of facing what she felt for him, she’d run far and fast.
A part of him didn’t blame her. He was no safer than his brother for her sense of security. He couldn’t be the hearth-and-home kind of man she needed, yet he couldn’t leave things alone. “Just sex,” he said again. “Am I right?”
Carly licked at her dry lips. “Sounds reasonable to me.” But it didn’t. Hearing Mike’s passionless, uncaring description of what they’d shared cut deep. Yet his words stated what she had forced herself to believe was the proper way to categorize their relationship. The safest way to avoid complications like this afternoon. The easiest way to let him go when he decided it was time to return to his nomadic, dangerous way of life. It was her heart that refused to cooperate and believe.
“Very generous of you.” He leaned back on his elbows. “You know, Carly, you aren’t fooling me.”
“That’s good, because I wasn’t trying to.”
“You’re afraid to let yourself feel. So you label us with the one thing that scares you above all else, you beat yourself up for acting selfishly like your father and you run. Far and fast instead of facing the truth.”
“Which is?” she asked, with pure sarcasm lacing her voice. “Since you know so much about running, you’d have to be right. So what truth is it that you think I’m afraid of?”
His hand cupped her chin and he met her gaze. “That if you look us in the eye, you’ll see a lot more than just sex... and that scares you a hell of a lot more than a lust-filled relationship you can walk away from unscathed.”
She jerked her face out of his grasp. “You’re damn right it does. You’re out of here at the first phone call, so why the hell should I look deeper? Why the hell should I let myself care?” Without waiting for an answer, she jumped to her feet.
Mike rose but remained silent. Obviously he knew he couldn’t fight the truth.
With her vision blurred, Carly ran for the house. More than once she stumbled on the sand and rocks in her path, but she kept going. She flung open the door to the house. Feeling out of breath and desperate for peace from her rampaging emotions, she sought the security of home.
Instead she ran into Peter. “Just what I needed,” she muttered under her breath. They might have resolved their issues, but he was the last person she wanted to see right then.
She wiped the tears still running down her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Carly...”
“Not now, Peter. You apologized, I apologized. Now let it be.”
“I was just leaving.” He glanced at her face and his brow furrowed. “You’ve been crying.”
“It’s been known to happen.”
“Has it ever happened over me?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “For crying out loud, can we just...”
“I’ll take that as a no. Whatever Mike said, just forgive him. It’s obvious you care about each other.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You figured that out based on the five minutes we all spent together in the kitchen?”
“We were friends before we made the mistake of getting engaged. I’d like to think I knew you pretty well. And I know that even though you broke up with me, what I did hurt you. Just remember one thing.”
She swallowed hard. “What’s that?”
“Mike isn’t me.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, then attempted to duck around him.
“Carly, wait.”
She sighed. “Make it quick.”
His lips formed a wry smile. “I know my brother better than anyone. Everything he’s done since he’s been back proves one thing to me.”
“What’s that?” she asked, truly curious.
“He loves you. Think about that.” Peter opened the side door leading to the beach and slipped out, shutting it behind him.
Carly stood in mute silence, Peter’s words wrapping around her heart. Even if he was right, it couldn’t make one bit of difference.
* * *
Carly spent the rest of the day in her room sorting through mail sent by her editor. Periodically she would glance out the window only to discover Peter’s rental car still parked on the street out front. Though she wondered when he would leave, she was glad Mike had time alone with his brother. As for her conversation with Mike, she preferred not to dwell on it for now.
She slit open a purple envelope and read the contents. The letter was brief and to the point.
I’m sixteen and pregnant. I haven’t told anyone. I can’t decide what to do and the problem is affecting every part of my life. I can’t sleep, can’t study for summer school, and no one has patience with my mood swings. Help.
Carly’s answer was easy to formulate, but as this young girl would find out, even harder to carry through.
The first thing to do is seek medical attention, as prenatal care is of paramount importance. The next is to tell the people closest to you. Perhaps your parents, the baby’s father, a teacher or local clergyman. If you don’t talk, you can’t expect to come to any meaningful decisions. Only after you face your fears will they seem less overwhelming. Then you can make the right decisions for yourself and your baby. Good luck.
Carly realized the irony in her answer. Talk out your answers. Face your fears. The one thing she advocated for this young girl was the one thing she hadn’t been permitted to do. Talk. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t be in such a sorry state now.
She finished punching the keys in the computer just as she heard a knock. After saving her document, she opened the door and glanced down the empty hall. But at her feet, she found a fast-food restaurant bag with a note taped to the brown parcel. “Be angry with me later. For now take the time to eat.”