The Runaway Bride. Patricia Johns
was back in a ponytail, and she looked like a different woman from the tattered bride of earlier. Ike blinked at the new arrival in surprise, his howls stopped for the moment.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she said softly. “Hug?”
Ike reached for Bernie, and she took the toddler into her arms, snuggling him close. Seriously? How did she do that? He’d been hugging the kid all evening, and again ever since he’d woken up at two in the morning. How did she simply show up and make it all okay? He resented that. He was the one Ike had, and he was doing his best, but tonight it wasn’t enough.
“If you could just hold him for a couple minutes, I have an idea,” Liam said.
He didn’t wait for an answer, he just walked away, his nerves completely frazzled. A crying kid was difficult in a way he’d never imagined before. Somehow, he hadn’t thought parenthood would be like this.
Liam opened the door that led to the basement stairs and flicked on the light. He’d shoved all the pictures of Leanne into boxes after she’d left and dumped them down here. He’d added the few boxes of personal items he’d taken from Leanne’s apartment after she’d died. He’d meant to go through it all eventually, but there hadn’t been time. While pictures of his estranged wife didn’t do much to comfort him, they might help Ike.
He had to rummage through a few boxes before he found what he was looking for—a framed photo of Leanne smiling into the camera. He’d taken it the summer before she left him. She’d probably already started her affair with the senator at that point.
He headed back up the stairs, and when he came into the living room, he found Bernie seated on the couch, Ike leaning his tear-stained face against her shoulder, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps.
“I brought something for you, Ike,” Liam said. “It’s a picture of Mommy. Do you want it?”
He held it up for the boy to see, and Ike stretched out one pudgy hand and pulled the picture against his chest. Maybe it would help. Maybe it wouldn’t, but he had to try. Liam was most definitely out of his depth here.
“So that’s her.” Bernadette craned her neck to get a glimpse of the photo.
“Yup.”
He couldn’t explain the pain attached to that photo. He’d still thought he had a happy marriage at that point, totally oblivious to the fact that her new interest in politics had more to do with the senator himself than with his political platforms. And he’d held on to that photo because deep down, he’d always hoped that she’d come back. She’d married Liam. The senator hadn’t left his wife. So maybe she’d come back eventually.
Some days he imagined her coming back to him and settling back in again, happy to have a decent, hardworking man instead of some philandering politician. Other days, he imagined getting the chance to tell her exactly what she’d lost, and he’d do the rejecting. The fantasies depended on his mood, but he still hoped she’d come back.
Obviously, she never had.
He leaned back, rubbing his hands across his face. How did Bernie manage to look so fresh in the middle of the night?
“Why are you up?” he asked.
“I couldn’t sleep.” She smoothed a hand over Ike’s sweat-damp curls. “I can’t stop thinking about yesterday.”
Yeah, that also made sense. He felt a wave of sympathy. He’d been dealing with Leanne’s betrayal for three years; she’d only started with Calvin’s.
“Did you see it coming?” Liam asked. “The cheating, I mean.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s the thing. I didn’t notice at all...until the last minute, that is.”
“That was the same for me,” he admitted. “I thought she was just really into politics. I didn’t know there was a problem until she told me she was pregnant and she was leaving me.”
“So there’s a chance Ike is yours?” she asked.
He wished. If he’d been the father, maybe it would have changed things for Leanne. Maybe she’d have seen something worth staying for.
“No. I can’t have kids.” That was uncomfortable to talk about, but it was the truth. When Leanne had announced her pregnancy, it had been like a kick in the stomach. He knew what it meant, and she’d been holding a suitcase at the time. He’d begged her to stay. They could figure it out. But she didn’t want to, and she’d walked out to the waiting cab.
“Do you still miss her?” Bernie asked quietly.
“Sure.” He nodded. “I guess I miss what we had—what I thought we had. We’d both changed over the last three years, so I doubt we’d ever have been compatible again, even if she’d lived.”
“Hmm.”
Bernie looked like she wanted to cry, but she was holding it back. Her eyes got misty, and she pressed her lips together.
“You want to know how long this is going to hurt, don’t you?” Liam asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
She was just at the beginning, and he knew exactly what that felt like—like being gutted and left alive.
“It’ll hurt for a while. But it’ll get better and easier. Some days you’ll forget. And guaranteed, the days you actually forget him are the ones he’ll call you up and remind you of his existence.”
“Did Leanne do that a lot?”
Leanne had never fully gotten over Liam, either, it seemed. She’d call about twice a year just to see how he was doing and tell him she missed him... That was hardest. It brought him right back to the starting line again for a day or so. For the first year, she seemed to believe that Vince would leave his wife since he was financially supporting Leanne, but then the senator must have tired of her, because he told her straight that he wasn’t leaving his wife and kids. His career depended upon his honesty and his credibility. At that point, Liam and Leanne had discussed possibly reconciling, but that hadn’t been possible. He couldn’t do it. There was no going back to blissful ignorance.
“She’d call every once in a while,” he admitted. “I sent her money a couple of times. It hurts a lot when they call—it reminds you of better days. But you get over it. And while it’s hard to have that reminder, it also confirms how far you’ve come.”
Ike’s eyes had closed, and Bernie leaned her head back against the back of the couch. She was rubbing the toddler’s back with her palm in slow circles. She didn’t belong here—not in Liam’s living room, and not in Runt River. She was too pretty for this place, too polished.
“You mind if I ask you something?” he asked.
She turned her head to meet his gaze. “Sure.”
“Why aren’t you going home to New York?”
“Because my parents will side with Calvin.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he said.
“You don’t know my family.” She sighed. “He’s going to be running for president in the next few years. He has all the party backing. He’s the Republican golden boy. My parents wouldn’t try to make me marry him, but they would insist that I protect his reputation. My dad has already invested too much money in him, and backing a successful candidate is good for business. Calvin would owe my dad big-time once he was in the Oval. We don’t back presidents out of patriotic fervor alone.”
Liam raised an eyebrow. Wow. This wasn’t just a wedding between two people who’d fallen in love; it was a political alliance. That was a world he was glad to avoid.
“What business is your dad in, exactly?”
“Real estate development, and he owns a line of hotels, and has some heavy investments in the oil industry. After the wedding, my dad was going to hand