Christopher and Jaime (Pianos and Promises #1) Read online

  But, back to my baby. Chris laid her in my arms and I swore she smiled at me. She owned my heart from day one, despite who her mother was. I’ve always felt this connection to her. I sat there for at least an hour just getting acquainted with the beautiful creature. Her mom was off in the other room talking loudly and giving orders to some poor person at the law firm she worked for.

  I think Chris was in awe. “How do you do that? She normally cries for us.”

  “They can smell fear,” I teased, but not really. I handed her back to Chris to see how he held her. Sure enough, he wasn’t holding her close enough. I had to teach him how to properly hold his own baby. “She’s not going to bite you . . . yet. That comes later, after they get teeth.”

  His eyes widened.

  I laughed at him. “Seriously, relax.”

  He pulled her closer, and honestly, I think it was the first time he really looked at her. I saw this spark of recognition in his eyes as he held her close. He kissed her head naturally. She quieted.

  “See, she likes you, too.”

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this fatherhood thing,” he admitted.

  “Yes, you are. Remember when we saved those bunnies when their mom died?”

  “This is a little different, Jaimes.”

  “Probably, but you have a great capacity to love and that’s half the battle. Just remember, you’re her everything.”

  He didn’t argue. I think he knew Bianca wasn’t capable of parenting.

  His heart monitor beeped and I came back to the present and surveyed my soon-to-be ex-husband. He did have a great capacity to love; too bad he chose the wrong things. His job was never going to love him back. And if he wasn’t careful, he was in danger of losing Allie’s affection, too. As she aged, she would eventually resent coming in second to his career. She was so innocent right now, with a heart bigger than most, so she loved him easily. I don’t think he realized how much he took that for granted.

  I took his hand and held it between both of mine. “Chris, remember, please remember the man you used to be. Do you recall the Christmas when we were fifteen and my dad lost his job and you ‘anonymously’ left boxes of gifts and food wrapped on our porch? I knew it was you. I hadn’t told anyone else but you that I wanted the charm bracelet that was displayed in Grogan’s jewelry store window. Or what about when Teri Dean was in that horrific car accident our senior year and you set up that fundraiser at school for her that made thousands? It’s not too late to be the father Allie deserves. You’re cut out for it, you just have to remember and put your mind to it. Look outside yourself. I know you can. I’ve been the recipient of it many times. My parents are wrong about you. You are wrong about you. You are one of the most giving people I’ve ever known.”

  And he really was. He knew money was tight for my family growing up, so he always found ways to do things for me in such a manner that it didn’t feel like charity. Like with my senior prom dress. I knew he had paid for part of it, but he made the sales lady say she was mistaken about the price and that it was really on clearance. It wasn’t. And he more often than not paid for all of our outings or he chose things for us to do that didn’t cost anything so it wasn’t embarrassing for me to say I couldn’t afford it. He used to put me first.

  I turned back to his journal. It was my last chance to see the world from his point of view. I picked up during the aftermath.

  May 19

  I wish she would yell, scream, or hell, even cry. Why didn’t she kick me out of the bed instead of leaving it herself? If I didn’t know her better, I would think it was because she knew that would be a more effective punishment. But she’s not like that, she’s not like Bianca. Jaime would never think like that. I hurt her and she’s trying to protect herself. What kind of man am I? I basically told my wife I don’t want to make love to her unless it’s under my terms. My Jaime, who has never used sex as a means to get what she wants or withheld it because she was upset with me. I don’t think she has any idea how much it has meant to be able to come home to her every night and hold her close.

  And why in the hell am I sitting here alone in our room for the third night in a row? I should go to her, but I can’t give her what she wants. Doesn’t she know I want to?

  May 23

  We’ve hardly spoken this past week. She’s still sleeping every night on the couch. I thought it would blow over by now. Why can’t she see I’m trying? I’m working hard for our family. Moving to the suburbs would only take away time. The Addison building should have been seventy-five percent filled by now and we are only at fifty-eight. Work needs to be my focus or we stand to lose all of our savings. I’m putting out more than I’m bringing in just to keep this deal afloat. If I can get Cutting Edge Designs to sign the lease, we’re set. That will take us to ninety-two percent. Their lawyers are dragging their feet. Every day it seems like they are adding a new clause or stipulation that we need to run by our attorney. The attorney fees alone are getting out of hand. Buying a house isn’t in the cards right now. And having a baby would only be unfair to her.

  Was he trying to justify himself? Why didn’t he just tell me what was going on at work? I would have forgone moving for a while.

  June 1

  I met with Reader Software today. They’re interested in the third and fourth level suites. I’m hoping this will put heat on Cutting Edge Designs. Or hopefully they won’t have imbecile lawyers. The pressure is mounting from all sides to get a deal signed. Most important, I need to take some time off. Jaime has become more distant. She’s asleep on the couch before I get home, or at least she’s pretending to be. I’ve watched her sleep for the past twenty years, she’s not fooling me. I’m tempted to call her on it, or pick her up and take her to our bed. I don’t know what she wants from me.

  June 6

  Three weeks and our only real communication is when I kiss her head before I leave for the office. She barely mutters goodbye. I miss waking up to her next to me, tempting me to stay in bed when she turns in closer to me as soon as my alarm goes off. I should have taken more of those opportunities. If only she would come back to our bed. She did mention she has a job interview today. This could be good. If she has a career to focus on, maybe she’ll get over having a baby right now and we can get back on track.

  I was surprised how dense he was. Or maybe he was in denial about what was really happening.

  June 15

  I can’t sleep. I find myself either watching Jaime or Allie. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I have to choose between our livelihood or my family. I still don’t have a deal with Reader or Cutting Edge. Maybe I need to start courting several smaller companies to occupy those spaces. I can’t keep losing money like this.

  Jaime and I can’t keep going on like this. I need her. She’s the only mother Allie’s ever known. When I look at Allie, I see Jaime in her, from the way she smiles in her sleep, to the notes she leaves me on my pillow that say, ‘I love you, Daddy.’ I should be a better dad to her. I want to be. I’m trying to be. I want her to have every advantage in life. And I’m on the verge of losing it.

  I miscalculated.

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  June 24

  I feel like I haven’t slept in a year. My days are becoming blurs of negotiating and reading through lawyer garbage. I find it’s the only time I miss Bianca now. She could have given me some valuable advice on how to deal with these prat attorneys, like Beck refers to them. But I’ve never missed her like I miss Jaime, even though I see her every day. I just need a few more weeks.

  June 25

  Jaime’s piano jar is empty. I wonder why. I don’t see a deposit for it in our account. I still feel guilty for selling Gran’s piano. I’m going to make it up to her. When I get this deal signed, I’ll see if there is a loft available that would accommodate a piano. Maybe then she’ll forgive me.

  June 26

  I miss my best friend.

  June 27

  I miss my wife.
>
  June 29

  Beck called me a bloody wanker today and threatened to quit if I didn’t work it out with Jaime. Worse, he promised to step in and take my place. He had his chance. And now I’m blowing mine. To hell with it. I’m booking a trip to Italy for just the two of us, regardless of the consequences. Beck can cover for me at work, not with Jaime.

  June 30

  Jaime’s leaving me.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, there were dried tear stains on the page. I added some of my own.

  Chapter Nine

  Hope walked in to administer more medication into Chris’ IV as I was drying my eyes and running his thoughts through my mind.

  She reached into her pocket and handed me a tissue. “You look spent.” Her voice had a soothing quality to it.

  I gladly accepted the tissue and dabbed my eyes. “It’s been a rough few months. Don’t ever marry your best friend,” I warned.

  She paid attention to her nursing duties, but I could see the smile on her face. “How long have you known each other?”

  “Twenty-two years. We’ve been married for a little over two.”

  She directed her attention back toward me once she disposed the syringe. “So, what took you two so long?”

  I leaned back into my chair and held his journal tight. “We should have never married. I was in love with him. He never felt the same way. I was a convenient mother for his daughter after his wife died.”

  Her eyes widened with interest. “How old is Allie. That’s her name, right?”

  I was impressed she remembered her name. I nodded. “She’s five and perfect. This has been tough on her. We’re sharing custody.”

  “Even though you aren’t the biological mother?”

  “She’s as much mine as his.”

  “Hmmm. Are you sure he isn’t in love with you? I don’t think many men would commit to be connected in such a way when they didn’t have to be. And he was pretty adamant about how he felt about you when they brought him in.”

  I looked down at the journal. “I don’t know. He’s contesting the divorce, but outside of that, he hasn’t done much to try and salvage the relationship.”

  “Sometimes men need a good kick in the backside to wake them up.”

  “Not with Chris. He and I want completely different things in life.”

  She smiled and her eyes twinkled. “But do you want each other? If that’s the case, your paths may not be all that different.” She turned and walked out.

  I looked over at Chris and had this desire to crawl into bed with him, to lay my head on his chest. I wanted him to hold me one last time. Instead, I turned back to all I had of him at the moment, his thoughts.

  July 1

  What does she mean, I’ve never wanted her? I’ve never wanted anyone more, but she was always with someone else or traveling the world. And there was our friendship to consider. I would never risk that unless I knew we would end up together. Why does she think I asked her to marry me? I wanted every part of her.

  July 5

  Jaime has begun to pack up her belongings. I never noticed how little she made this place her own. Everything she brought with her only fills a few boxes. The only thing we bought together was our bed. She refused to share the same bed as Bianca and me, rightly so. Maybe that’s part of the reason she thinks I never wanted her. She assumed my life, and in terms of possessions, we have nothing together. I’m realizing now how unfair that was.

  I never settled into his place because I thought it was temporary. That we would have our own home someday.

  July 11

  Jaime finally said more than two words to me. They were angry words, but I’ll take them. She’s upset my lawyer found several mistakes in the papers her pubescent lawyer filed. She’s irate about the cost she’s incurring. I’ll pay her fees, but I’m contesting the divorce. I did my best not to smile when she yelled. I was proud of her. My Jaimes raised her voice. I was just happy to hear her speak, even if she was calling me an arrogant pig. I almost grabbed her and kissed her. The only reason I’m not begging her to stay is because I don’t deserve to. Yet.

  Wow. My assessment of him was dead on—arrogant.

  July 18

  It’s a race now to see who is going to sign first: Reader or Cutting Edge. I feel no satisfaction from it. Letting the woman you love walk out of your life changes your perspective.

  I inadvertently dropped the journal. Did he say he loved me? I couldn’t believe it. I stood up. I needed a drink. And by drink, I meant the house wine of the South. I marched to the cafeteria in search of sweet tea. The place was near empty at nine in the evening. It had been a long day. And I was in for a longer night. I planned on finishing the journal and watching him one last time.

  Maybe. Where did he get off saying he loves me and toying with my divorce attorney? And I thought we were best friends. Why didn’t he tell me about investing in the Addison building or that he was unsure about having another child?

  I ordered a large sweet tea and sank into one of the cafeteria chairs for a moment to process while I downed my drink. Did he really want me? Did it matter? My mom was right. I was in a vulnerable state right now. I shouldn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t be contemplating changing my plans.

  I walked back to his room, knowing this was it—our last night together. I wished he didn’t have to be unconscious for it. I wished he could say the words I had been longing to hear. And I wished that he was still the boy I fell in love with and we weren’t getting divorced.

  But like his gran used to say, “Wishes are for those that are too lazy to make their own dreams come true.” Besides Christopher, I would say she was my biggest supporter and fan. It was because of her I felt like I could travel the world. She helped me find the Au Pair agency and screened the family I went to live with.

  The Roux family became like my own for two years. Aimee and Garren treated me like one of their own. They took me on every family holiday with them and opened my eyes to different foods and cultures. It was Aimee I would travel with to Africa. She was a doctor with the World Health Organization. She was one of my heroes. She lived a life of luxury in Paris, but she was compassionate toward the poorest among us. She treated each patient like royalty.

  I still communicated with Aimee, Garren, and their children, Somer and Natalee. I hoped one day to take Christopher and Allie to France to meet them. I had thought maybe Allie would have a brother or sister to introduce them to.

  I looked at Chris’ resting body and shook my head. That would remain an unfilled dream.

  I settled in near his side, held his hand, and started reading where I had left off.

  . . . And Allie isn’t taking our separation well. She woke up tonight as I watched her sleep. She wants me to move into the house Jaime rented. She clung to my neck and cried. I held onto her until she fell back asleep. I haven’t held her like that in a long time. I missed it. I’m missing her life. I’ve turned into my dad. I hated him for loving his job and country more than me. And now I’m letting my wife walk out the door and take our daughter with her. We’re sharing custody, but we both know it is Jaime that will primarily have her. What kind of father does that make me? Jaime isn’t even her biological mother, yet she loves her more than Bianca ever did. If only Jaime was her biological mother, then maybe she would stay.

  That’s not why she’s leaving. I broke my promise to her, and like Beck has said, I’ve been an arse of a husband to her.

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  I was caught off guard by the mention of his father. Like I said, Chris rarely spoke about his parents. I used to think it was because he was so young when they died, but after reading that passage, I don’t think that’s the only reason.

  He didn’t write anything the next several days. It was the first time I came across any missed days. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I knew how I had been feeling. Every day leading up to my departure I kept waiting for him to do something. To say something. But he was
leaving early and coming home late. He would watch me pretend to sleep and touch my hair or kiss my head, but he wouldn’t say a word. I wanted to scream at him to make it better. To fix us. To fight for us. I wanted him to tell me he loved me and we could work it out, but he did none of those things.

  Three days ago I moved out.

  July 26

  They’re gone.

  July 27

  I called Jaime tonight to meet me for dinner. That set her off. Too little, too late were her words. She threw some other words my way, words I hadn’t been able to admit to. More glaring failures. Bianca had been having an affair. I’d had my suspicions. I ignored it, like I brushed aside the thought that she married me for my family’s money. That she had Allie to make sure she had a stake in my claim.

  I almost dropped the journal again. She was more of a witch than I gave her credit for. That explained the fake enthusiasm for the pregnancy after Miss Allison died. She saw dollar signs. Allie would forever connect her to Chris’ bank account. I was furious. It was a good thing she was dead.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  I won’t lose Jaime.

  That was it. His final line.

  Chapter Ten

  I stared at Chris until I could feel the red grittiness penetrate my eyes. My emotions were all over the place. Lots of why’s ran through my head. Like Bianca. On the surface I got it, she was gorgeous and oozed the kind of confidence that screamed sex appeal. She treated life like a courtroom and had a way of winning each case with Chris. But if he had his suspicions about her, why didn’t he ever say anything to me? We never kept secrets, except the one where I was in love with him, but he was the only one who never got that memo. And what about his job? He could have told me the truth. I would have been supportive. I would have used my small income from giving private lessons to help ease the situation, but he always told me that money was just for me. Why didn’t he ever tell me he loved me? I know I didn’t say it often, but it was only because when I did, his reply was usually to kiss me or sometimes he would say something like, “Of course you do,” or, “Right back at you.”