Page 65 of Bargaining

The few memories I had of Penny filled my head. Agap-toothed smile. Bright eyes. Sleeping-bag races down the stairs.The Thorner dysfunction went back much further than my sister, but that’s when everything had fallen apart.

“There is something that will never be on the Wikipedia page. Cole’s older brother, Lucas, had a twin, Penelope. She was sick for most of her childhood, and sadly, she died young.”

Charlotte stared at me in astonishment before her eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. My husband never talks about his family.”

I swallowed past the sudden lump of nerves in my throat. “I heard the family all coped in their own ways. Lucas went into himself. He locked himself in his room with his experiments until he could disappear to medical school and bury himself in trying to find a cure for the disease that had robbed him of his twin. Theo escaped to the military. The mother numbed herself any way possible, and the father left his broken family behind and replaced them with a shiny new one in New York.”

She leaned into me, tilting her face toward mine. “And what about the other brother? What about Cole?”

Her eyes met mine, and they glimmered with kindness. Her empathy made my blood turn to ice.Never show your hand, boy. I couldn’t risk anyone perceiving me as weak, but it felt good too, like putting down a boulder I’d been carrying on my shoulders.

“He was relieved when his father left. Philip Thorner was a cruel man, but he saved his worst ire for his most disappointing son. Cole wasn’t like the other Thorner boys. He was ...” A stab of some old, long-buried despair stole my words.Speak up, idiot boy.I kept my gaze fixed on the mirror behind the bar and the man reflected back at me. A grown man, not an idiot boy anymore. But not a man I cared to look at for too long.

Charlotte’s hand covered mine. “He was what?”

The warmth of her touch radiated over my skin. “He was a serious, sullen creature who didn’t utter a word until he was seven, and then said very little. He couldn’t read or write. The letters were always mixed up in his head. He felt stupid and ashamed because the things that came easy for others didn’t come easy for him.

“For a while, he had a stutter. It didn’t matter how he heard the words in his head, he couldn’t say them clearly. Philip Thorner thought him stupid and an embarrassment. The Thorner men had a long tradition of attending Eton, but the stuttering child was sent up north to a boarding school so remote no one would have to think about him again.”

Charlotte squeezed my hand in hers. “His father was so wrong about him. Cole Thorner is the smartest man I’ve ever known. He’s so clever it’s frightening.”

“I’ve heard it said that every kid just needs one adult who believes in them. Cole was lucky that he had a teacher who understood that this strange, quiet boy needed a little patienceand encouragement. Cole felt he’d landed somewhere safe for the first time.”

Charlotte looked at me uncertainly. “But he left. If he was happy, why did he leave?”

“Because the time came for Philip to groom an heir for his business, and the boy he’d once thought stupid had worked hard enough to become his best option. Philip threatened him. If he didn’t fall in line, he’d ruin everything Cole cared about. He was definitely capable of it.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “That’s blackmail.”

“Yes. Cole bided his time until he could form his own company and make his own fortune. When Philip found out that his son was planning to betray him, he punished him. By the time Cole found out his mother had been kicked out of rehab, it was too late. She overdosed that night.”

Charlotte’s eyes shone with tears. Her hand moved to cover her mouth. “Oh my God. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

The pain I never allowed myself to feel gripped my chest. When Mum had died, the shock had been a chisel strike to my heart. It had cracked me like a rock in one swift stroke to the equator. I’d wrestled with the guilt for years.

I rubbed the spot in my chest where it ached. “It hit him hard. Cole loved his mother.”

Charlotte shook her head, processing. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or Dad? Dad would have helped you.”

I did. And no, he wouldn’t.“Because it was something he had to handle himself. This is life. It’s a lot of pain. A lot of mistakes and regrets. It’s all history.”

She peered at me intently, then laced her fingers with my hand on the bar. It was a gentle touch, but the heat sent a shock through my body. My stomach clenched tight. My pulse pounded. The chatter in the bar faded away, and I couldn’t take my eyes fromher beautiful eyelashes and the tiny freckle patch on her nose. I ached for this woman. I always had. All I wanted was to take her up to our room and show her that she was mine. That she’d always been mine. Charlotte had always seen the good in me. But she was the type to see the good in anyone. Too good to drag into my dysfunction.

Her voice was soft and tentative. “Dad used to say that history was the most important thing a child can learn. We are the product of everything that has come before. A book would never make sense if you ripped out the first act. It sets the scene for everything to come.”

Disappointment ground in my gut. I knew that. There was no way around what had happened in the past.

She swallowed. “But sometimes I think it would be so nice to wipe the slate clean. To put it all down for a while and breathe. Do you ever feel like that?”

I looked down where our hands joined. “Put it down?”

“I don’t know. It’s all so heavy. You can’t rip out the first act or the ending, but imagine if you could just put the book to one side? Or even just open it in the middle and find a blank page. No past. No future. Two strangers meeting in a bar in the most beautiful city in the world. Just for a moment in time.”

“I don’t understand.”

She threw back the rest of her drink and drew a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “You said you’re a handyman. What’s your name?”

“My name?”