Baby 101. Marisa Carroll

when she died, twenty-one when we married. It was a few weeks before Greg died. He had bone cancer. It went fast and it was pretty brutal.”

      “You comforted her and perhaps you mistook her gratitude for love?”

      “I knew there was another man,” he said, and heard the old anger in his voice. He swallowed hard and went on. “She was coming off a bad relationship. He was older, married. He broke it off and went back to his wife. Then Greg got sick. She was a wreck.” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt. This conversation was getting out of hand. Before he knew it he’d be telling her everything.

      “And you were the one who was there to pick up the pieces.”

      He considered not answering, turning away and walking out of the room. She wouldn’t follow him. She wasn’t that type. But if he stayed put, she’d keep asking questions as long as he kept answering them. And someplace inside him, a part of him wanted to keep talking, to maybe find out a few answers himself.

      “I watched her grow up. She was just a kid when we went to Saudi. She sent tapes and letters. She was so young she dotted her is with little hearts and drew smiley faces in her Os.”

      “But when you got back it was a different story.”

      “Yes. She wasn’t a little kid any longer. She’d been living with an aunt. All the family they had left. And, well, she was a little wild.” She’d had a lot of problems with commitment and fidelity, too, but hell, he hadn’t known any of that until it was too late for both of them. She was cute and playful, and he’d fallen head over heels in love with her the first time he saw her. But he hadn’t told Greg. She was too young for him, and Greg had come to work for his dad. It would have complicated things.

      He was Greg’s buddy, nothing more. Too old and too serious for her.

      “You fell in love with her,” she prompted in that quiet voice of hers.

      “Maybe a little.”

      “Maybe a lot?”

      “Maybe.”

      “But you were just her older brother’s buddy from the war.”

      “Yep, that was me. She went off to college and fell in love with her mystery man. Greg didn’t like it, but she was of age and there was nothing much he could do.”

      She nodded. “Then Greg got sick. The love affair soured. Dylan to the rescue.”

      “Semper Fi.”

      “The Marine Corps motto.”

      Semper Fidelis. Always faithful. He nodded. “Greg was my best friend. Jessie’s future was the most important thing in the world to him.” And he’d failed to keep her safe and happy. Instead, he’d contributed to her unhappiness and her death.

      “But surely that doesn’t extend to—”

      What was she going to say? He beat her to it. “A marriage of convenience? A rescue mission to save a screwed-up kid from herself?” He was angry again, and it showed. Greg squirmed and whimpered.

      Lana took it right between the eyes. She didn’t flinch or look away. “Yes,” she replied steadily. “I guess that was what I was going to say.”

      “I married Jessica because I loved her.” Somehow that seemed important to say. Maybe he thought it would shock him out of his awareness of Lana as a woman, all softness on the outside and steely strength on the inside, sitting there before him. Still, it was the truth. At least it had been for a while. But not at the end. Not for a long time before the end.