“You feeling better?”
Fay’s gaze jerked to his face, and she realized he’d been watching her gawk. She swallowed hard and forced herself to move past him as she replied, “Yes, thank you.”
“Was it something you ate?”
“No.”
“Was it the sight of me?”
Her footsteps faltered at his question. “N-no, of course not.”
“So what?” Adam pushed, following her. “Some sort of bug or the flu?”
Yes, the nine-month flu, only she prayed the books were right and this awful morning sickness would ease after the first trimester.
“I’m just…not feeling well.” Back in the dining area, Fay saw he hadn’t cleaned up her mess. Thankful for the excuse, she knelt down and started gathering the broken fronds of the potted fern. “Sorry about this. I’ll get this picked up—”
“Fay, what’s going on?” Adam moved to stand directly in front of her. “What are you doing here?”
“Get back, there are sharp pieces here and you’re barefoot.” She brushed at his jean-clad leg before reaching for the plant itself.
Rising, she scooted around him into the kitchen and placed it back inside the empty cardboard box on the counter. Hopefully she could save the pretty asparagus fern. “What are you doing here? I mean, this is your house, but your unit isn’t scheduled to return until June—ohmigod.”
Suddenly the dizziness returned. The only possible reason for Adam being here … The same reason he’d come back to Destiny a year ago.
Two months ago.
She spun around and grabbed for the granite countertop to keep upright. “Are you here as an official escort again? Please tell me you aren’t responsible for another—”
Fay cut off her outburst, capturing her bottom lip with her teeth, but it was too late. As soon as the unfinished sentence left her mouth, she wished she could take it back.
She’d hurled a similar awful accusation at him eight weeks ago. To go there again, to make them both relive her resentment and hurt, would be of no use to anyone.
Besides, she couldn’t say for certain whom she was mad at anymore. Whom she blamed.
Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, before a flicker of hurt passed over them. Then with a blink, the emotions vanished.
“Responsible for what, Fay?” His features hardened as he slowly walked toward her. “For another member of my unit getting killed?”
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Fay forced herself to look him in the eye. “That was wrong. I shouldn’t have said that.”
The stiffness in Adam’s posture eased. “You showed up two months ago determined to say what was on your mind. I listened, but that doesn’t mean I agreed with you. Your words were coming from a place of anger and grief. I understood that.”
“I wasn’t looking for your understanding.” The pain flared to life again inside her. “I was looking for—”
“Someone to blame. Yeah, I figured that out…afterward.”
After they’d made love.
He didn’t say the words aloud, but Fay knew exactly what he meant.
“It’s been a rough year,” he continued, his voice softer, “for you and the Coggens. You lost your husband, they lost their only son. And I lost my best friend.”
Fay thought back to the first couple of weeks after Scott’s funeral. She’d just begun to crawl out of her haze. She had to. Bills had to be paid, her business required her attention and Scott’s parents, devastated at the loss of their only child, needed care. Finally needed her.
Then the house of cards Scott had so carefully constructed over the years to hide his misuse of their personal finances started to collapse. The second mortgages on their house, credit cards she never knew he had.
Not to mention what he’d done to his family’s business.
A wave of exhaustion washed over Fay. A sudden desire to lean against Adam’s chest, to feel the strength of his arms, filled her. To have someone take care of her for once.
Instead, she moved past him and sank into a chair at the dining room table. “You have no idea what we—What I’ve been through.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” He turned and faced her. “But somewhere between blame and the next morning, we found—Dammit, I don’t know what we found.”
She could feel him staring at her. Don’t ask me, please, don’t ask.
“Do you?”
She closed her eyes, and despite the silence, knew he’d walked to the table as a crisp clean scent that clung to his skin teased her nose. “Do I what?”
“Do you know what happened between us?”
Fay didn’t have any idea how she was supposed to view those wonderful hours she’s spent in Adam’s arms. Guilt swamped her, and she swayed between remorse and pleasure remembering what they shared that night.
What they created that night.
How often she’d dreamed of that night happening again.
“It was an escape.” Again, the words rushed past her lips before she could stop them. “A break from the real world, a moment we took … to block out our grief.”
Stillness filled the air. She opened her eyes and found Adam’s hands curled tight around the back of the chair he stood behind.
“Do you still blame me?” he asked.
Fay opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Even now, she struggled to comprehend what Scott had done. Laying blame on her husband didn’t do any good. The rationale she’d held on to for months was if Scott had never joined the service, he never would’ve been in Afghanistan, he wouldn’t have died and …
And what?
Her life would’ve gone on as before? Is that what she really wanted?
Fay didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Being this close to Adam was so confusing. Blaming him had been the constant she’d clung to as her world fell apart. Confronting him had seemed right. But since then, even before she found out she was carrying his child, the lines between right and wrong, blame and acceptance, had blurred.
She needed to get out of here.
“Fine, whatever. I guess we both should move forward.” He released the chair and stepped away. “So, to totally switch gears, you never did tell me what you’re doing in my house and how you got my security code.”
“I’m here to clean.”