Page 127 of Discretion at Its Finest

“My only daughter is pregnant and married,” I hissed. “How ready do you think I needed to be?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “You’re still fragile about them.”

“I’m still their mother.”

“And that is exactly why I don’t let you see everything,” he snapped. “Because the simple thought of them destroys you every time. You spiral, blame yourself, and then it takes me days, Vieve, to pull you out of your head sometimes.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and he sighed as I swiped it away. I couldn’t even fault him. It was the truth… When I thought of my babies… I didn’t eat. I’d shut down. Lay awake at night… Reid would have to stop his work each time to make sure I was okay. He never made me feel like I was a burden, but the feeling was weighing on me now.

He approached me with caution, seeing the look in my eyes. “I’m not trying to keep them from you,” he said. “I’m trying to keep you from falling apart.”

I shook my head softly. “But I could’ve at least seen my only daughter in her wedding gown… You didn’t even think to show me.” The words sounded so silly, so pathetic, but he didn’t see it that way. His chest rose and fell as he placed his hands on the side of my face, grounding me.

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I know I didn’t… I was only hiding it because I didn’t want to see you hurt.”

My lips parted. “But hiding it does hurt me.” Everything about leaving them hurt.

He stopped rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs, eyes watching my helpless cries.

And then, gentler, he spoke: “You’re right.” I obviously wasn’t completely right, but after twenty years of marriage, it was his way to calm me. “Tell me what you need. Tell me,mon amour, what can I do to make this right?”

He hadn’t done anything wrong, he and I both knew it. He was just telling me the honest truth of the situation, and I was too soft, too shattered to take it. But I wanted the truth. I was done with the secrecy, with the lies, with the pretending… I could never pretend everything was okay with Reid. He wouldn’t let me. But I hid my true thoughts, hid my true feelings for leaving everything behind because I couldn’t leave him behind again.

I didn’t want to hide anymore.

“One phone call…” I whispered, having to force the words out.

He went still. Years of being under the radar, years of staying in the shadows, years of mingling with only the one percent of people the world didn’t even know existed.

“Genevieve…” He said my name like a warning… but it sounded like a plea.

“I know what reaching out means,” I whispered, pressing harder, trying to break through to him. “The risks, what it will cost you. I know what it might expose.”

Reid’s jaw clenched hard, the muscle ticking. “You’re asking me to open a door I won’t be able to close,” he said softly.

“I know.” Another tear slipped down my cheek.

“One phone call, then what?” His jaw tightened. “You hear her voice, and you’ll want more. You’ll want to see her. Then Eugene. You’ll rip open twenty years of wounds I’ve barely held together for you. One call opens a door you will not close again,” he whispered. “I know you. You’ll drown in it.”

“But I need them,” I choked.

His eyes softened, just barely. “I know, Vieve.” He swallowed. “And that’s why I’m saying no.”

Silence stretched between us… My heart sank at his words, and for the first time in probably years, I stepped back from him.

His face hardened, then guilt sliced across it before he masked it again, his hands lowering to his sides.

“Reid,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes, looking away as if that was the end of the discussion. The tears that had been clinging dried instantly, burned away by the strike of my anger surging through me. Turning away from him, I left the room, pulse pounding as more tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I forced them back.

I found a corner and sat in one of the chairs, gazing out of the window over the same curve of the earth that I was used to seeing. Reid’s footsteps entered the cabin, the air in the jet so thick with tension I was sure the flight attendants were hiding somewhere in the back. He stopped beside me, waiting for me to turn, and when I didn’t he stepped away, walking back to his seat as he continued his work.

Eventually, I didn’t realize when, exhaustion won and I fell asleep, my body slumped sideways against the window.

I felt my head fall against his shoulder, my breath catching softly as consciousness dragged me partially back. Reid’s arms were warm, pulling me back into him despite me pulling away a few hours ago.

He let out a gentle sigh, one my gut had come to know well over the years. It had my heart racing in anticipation, but I kept my composure, afraid he’d change his mind if I so much as moved a single muscle.