Page 70 of Tempt
“It was my fault,” he repeated, his tone matter-of-fact.
I sat up and looked at him. “What do you mean? I thought you said it was an accident.”
“It was my negligence that caused the accident. I was supposed to be watching her.”
“But you were only seven!”
“I was old enough.” His voice was reedy. “We were playing outside. I left her alone in the front yard while I went into the garage to find the pump to put air in my bike tires. She wandered. We lived near a lake.”
My throat clutched, and my eyes watered. “You poor thing. Your parents blamed you?”
“No. But I didn’t need them to blame me. I knew it was my fault.”
“Oh, Zach, it wasn’t.” I lay down again, wrapping my arms around him. “Don’t say that.”
“Other kids my age, friends of mine, hated having their little sisters around. They’d be so mean about it. But I never minded.”
I kissed his chest, holding my lips to his skin.
“There was no one to punish for it,” he said. “It felt like a crime, but there was no bad guy—just me.”
Tears slipped from my eyes. “You weren’t the bad guy, Zach.”
“I was so angry—so fucking angry after that. I was just waiting to be able to put it somewhere. I wanted to fight. And I didn’t care if I got killed or not. I didn’t give a single fuck. I just wanted to fight the bad guys and protect the innocent. Like I’d failed to protect her.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just held him.
My heart ached for him—for the little boy who blamed himself for his beloved sister’s tragic death, for the angry teenager determined to fight bad guys because he couldn’t fight himself, for the man in my bed who still carried it all with him.
“I’ve never said this stuff to anyone,” he said.
“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered, wiping my eyes.
He kissed my head. “Do you wish you’d have told me to leave earlier?”
“Not at all. We’re going to be friends, right? Friends trust each other with their deepest secrets.”
“So what’s yours?”
“Well, don’t tell anyone, but I banged my ex’s dad.”
“Very funny.” He shifted onto his side and propped his head in his hand. “I’m serious. Tell me something about you. Something no one else knows.”
“Hmmm.” I tried to think of something I’d never even told my sisters. “There isonething... but it’s embarrassing.”
He tapped my nose. “Tell me.”
“Okay.” I took a breath. “Over the past few months, I’ve been googling something kind of weird.”
“Millie, we all watch porn.”
I slapped his chest. “It’s not porn. It’s... sperm banks.”
“Sperm banks?” He made a face. “Like for donor sperm?”
“Yes. Lately I’ve been starting to worry that if I don’t find theone, I might miss out on my chance to have a family. I hate to say people are right about the biological clock thing, but there’s truth there. Once you hit thirty-five, you’re considered ofadvanced maternal age.”
“I remember Kimberly—my ex-wife—saying something similar.”
