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Darien stood in the dark bedroom looking down at the twin-sized bed and the sprawling lump hanging half off it. Serena had joked often enough that Mattie could sleep standing on her head in a snowbank and Darien suspected it was close enough to truth.
Once Mattie had wound down enough from the excitement of the day, she'd hit the hay hard.
He leaned over and smoothly lifted his daughter's head and shoulders back onto the mattress. Mattie, predictably, didn't stir. Not even when Darien pulled the quilt up over her shoulders, nor when he suddenly sat on the side of the bed, his weight denting the mattress.
A good part of him wanted to scoop up the girl and hold on tight. Never let her go. Mattie was his. His. She had been since the day Darien had talked a broken-hearted, desperate girl named Serena Collins with meatballs for hair out of giving up her baby for adoption and into marrying him.
But the truth was, even then he'd expected this day to come. Seven weeks, seven months, seven years. What did it matter? Darien had known even then that he was living on borrowed time with his beautiful blonde wife and dark-haired daughter. Because sooner or later either the man she'd loved, his half-brother, would return; or she'd fall for someone else. Someone who'd be able to give her the large family she'd once dreamt of having.
"Darien? What is it? It's after midnight. Is Mattie all right?"
His head shot up at the whisper. Serena was padding into the room, her arms hugged around herself the way she had of doing when she was chilled.
"She's fine." He stood and watched her smooth her hand over Mattie's tousled head. "You're cold. You should get back in bed."
She turned and looked up at him, lifting one hand to push back the hair that hung in wild curls half way down the back of the faded blue football jersey she must have appropriated from his side of the closet. The movement made the too-wide neck of the shirt slide down one ivory-smooth shoulder.
Desire, hard and hot, ripped through him. He very nearly reached for her. But the knowledge that she'd passed out just from the mere sight of his half-brother kept his hands to himself.
"What about you?" she asked.
Dark amusement curled through him as he followed her into the hall and quietly pulled Mattie's door closed. "I'll be along." Once he'd stuck his head out in the cold night air, that was.
She took a few steps along the hallway toward their bedroom. Then stopped. Turned back, looking at him. Her eyes were shadows in the dim light. "Darien, are…are you all right?"
His amusement died. "Why?"
"I just— You aren't…well—"
"Spit it out, meatball head."
Her soft lips trembled at the nickname, then firmed. "You seem…I don't know. Upset. Ever since you told me about, about—"
"Can't you say his name?"
She made a soft sound. "You are upset. You haven't even come to bed."
"Did you want me to?"
Her lips parted. "Of course I want you to get some sleep. You're up every day before dawn and—"
"Sleep."
She cast him a look he couldn't read, then just as quickly looked away. "You're my husband."
He didn't know what devil drove him. "And that's why you want me to come to bed."
"Actually," her soft voice sounded strained. "I think we need to talk."
We need to talk. Darien figured those had to be four of the most godawful words around. They were never a prelude to something good.
He looked at Serena. He'd married her. He'd loved seeing her pregnant. Getting big and round with her baby, she'd been everything he'd ever thought a woman could possibly be. Containing his desire for her during that time had just about killed him. But he'd done it. And after the baby came, after they'd settled into a new routine with the three of them, right here in this house that back then had been little more than a weather-tight skeleton, it was Serena who had finally come to him. Serena, who'd shyly told him that she was ready to be a real wife.
It had been the night before their first wedding anniversary, he remembered. With no effort at all he could recall every single detail of that night. From the way her hair had flowed wild and abandoned across the white sheets to the way her breath had caught in her throat when they'd joined together for the first time to the way he'd lost control with her like he had never done before.
But she'd still been in love with Diamond. It had been Diamond's name that she'd mumbled night after night in her sleep while she'd tossed and turned, caught in the grip of a dream that Darien's imagination had no trouble whatsoever deciphering.
Yeah, she'd loved his gregarious fun-loving half-brother all right. And to his dying day he'd remember that particular fact.
"Let's just make it quick," he said evenly. "Diamond's back. Apparently to stay. You don't have to tell me how you feel about him."
"But that wasn't—"
"I'll find a new place to stay in the morning. Unless you want to move out instead. I'd just as soon not sell this place, though, if you don't mind. We can work something out about the land and the stables." He didn't know what, though. He trained cutting horses. He needed space to do it.
She'd gone pale. Even in the dim light he could see it. He caught her arms in his hands. She was so cold he could feel the goosebumps on her satiny skin.
"Are you going to pass out again?"
She wrenched out of his arms. "No, I am not. What do you mean, move out? What on earth are you talking about?"
On the best of occasions, Darien didn't figure he had an over-abundance of patience. And now, it was in seriously meager supply. "You and Diamond."
"Me and Diamond…what?"
"I saw you two today, remember? Climbing down each other's throats."
Serena felt Darien's words like a physical slap. "He kissed me," she said stiffly.
"And you fainted dead away."
"I was shocked. And…and hungry."
Darien didn't respond to that. She stared at him, feeling the very foundation of her world cracking right beneath her feet. But how could that be when they were standing in their very own hall right outside their bedroom?
Her voice felt brittle as she forced the question past her numb lips. "What exactly are you saying here, Darien?"
Serena waited, feeling on the edge of a bottomless chasm. Darien's tall form filled her vision. A button looked loose on the front of his denim shirt, she noticed, and felt the urge to scream rise inside her.
"Darien, please answer me- you're scaring me."
"I won't stand in your way. I'm sure you and Diamond are anxious to start your lives together."
"Our lives?"
"Yes, your lives. I know that you still love him and now you have your chance to recapture it. You can have Melvin Washington represent you if you want," he said. His voice was low. Husky. "He's right here in town, so it'll be convenient for you. I'll find a lawyer from over in Braden."
Had she ever felt this cold in her life? Only by clenching her jaw was she able to keep her teeth from chattering. "Lawyers. You…want a divorce, then. That's what you're saying."
He didn't answer immediately and she felt a quick dart of hope. But then he silently inclined his head. Just once. And hope died.
Darien no longer wanted her as his wife.
Maybe later she'd appreciate the irony of the situation. Unwanted by both Shields brothers in one lifetime. But right now, right this minute, she could barely draw breath. "And Mattie?"
Finally, Darien showed some emotion. His jaw cocked to one side and he shoved one hand through his hair, leaving it in disheveled black waves that made her fingers long to stroke back from his brow. "You can have anything you want, Serena. But I won't lose my daughter."
No, you'll just throw away your wife. The cry went unspoken. "Darien, I would never take her from you- you're her father."
"That's right I am. And Diamond better accept that."
"Diamond has nothing to do-"
"You're damn right."
"No, that's not-"
"I'm going to sleep in the other room."
"The other room?"
"I'll move my stuff tomorrow morning."
"Oh my god." Her brain felt like it was spinning out of control with everything he was saying. He couldn't possibly mean this could he? What was he thinking? What was she thinking? One thing was clear. If she didn't leave his presence right this second, she was going to break down.
"Are you sure you're not gonna faint again?"
"Now you sound as if you care."
Taken back by her tone, he pulled his hands away. "Of course I care, Serena. You're my child's mother."
"No kidding."
"I just don't want anything to happen you. For Mattie's sake."
"Mattie."
"You should get to bed. I'll see you in the morning," said turning to head down the hall.
"You built this place," she said stiffly after him. "You'll stay here."
Then she turned on her heel and went into their bedroom. She pushed the door closed, hearing it latch very, very quietly. Her vision blurred as she leaned back against the door panel. After a long moment, she heard the creak of a floor board. The scrape of a boot.
And then…nothing.
She slid down the door and buried her face in her hands, tears slowly scalding their way down her cheeks.
"What do you mean you and Mattie have moved into Patricia's old apartment?"
Despite the horrified question from Raye, Serena continued sorting mail for the retirees. She tried to have the mail in their boxes by ten every morning. She knew it pleased them to wake up to cards or letters from loved ones. "I mean we've moved. As of yesterday."
"But…but why?"
She wouldn't cry. She just would not. She'd spent all last night in tears, muffling them in her pillow so she wouldn't disturb Mattie in the next room. She'd made no secret of her confusion of the turn of events that had them hastily packing some of their clothes and moving from their wood-surrounded ranch house to the apartment that had once been Dr. Patricia's home before she'd married Brayden Sorenson.
Serena was confused, too.
And surely by now there weren't any tears left inside her.
"Ask Darien," she told her friend. "He's the one who decided it." She slotted the last letter and slammed shut the hinged metal door.
"Justin hasn't said anything to me. He and Darien are best friends but I don't think Darien's told him a thing." Raye's violet eyes were shocked behind her delicate gold-framed glasses.
She followed Serena back out to the front counter of the small—and mercifully empty—lobby. "I don't understand this. I thought you guys were the perfect couple."
So much for not having any tears left. "You and Justin are the perfect couple," Serena corrected. She dashed her fingers across her damp cheek and blindly began straightening the mailing supplies stacked on the counter. "You love him and he loves you."
Raye frowned. "What are you saying? Don't you love him?"
The slippery express mail envelopes scattered all over again. "Yes, I love Darien. I love him more than I want air to breathe. But he doesn't love me, Raye," she admitted miserably. "He never has. And I need to start facing the fact that he never will."