Best of My Love (Fool's Gold, #20)

“I think the problem is no one expected anything of him,” she said. “Emotionally, I mean. Because of who he was and what he could do, he wasn’t required to live up to the rest of society’s standards. He got a pass and somewhere along the way, bad behavior became synonymous with brilliance.”


“Speaking of standards.” Aidan showed her the pie pan. “Even enough?”

She inspected the crust. “Perfection. Okay, into the oven and set the timer.”

He pulled off his gloves, did as she requested, then read over the next step of the recipe.

“It wasn’t just society,” he said as he collected eggs from the refrigerator. “Mom always told us we had to work around Dad’s schedule. She enabled him from the start. He doesn’t have a bigger fan than her. She would walk through fire for him.”

Shelby leaned against the island counter. “Is it just women who do that?” she asked. “I hate to generalize, but how often do men act that way? Surrendering to another person because they’re supposedly so gifted. I’m sure it happens, but we seem to hear about women doing it more. Do you think we’re biologically more ready to serve?”

“By we you mean all women?”

She smiled. “Yes, Aidan. I wasn’t including you in the we statement.”

“Good. Because I’m the only other person here. I accept getting in touch with my feminine side, but I’m not ready to start a gender-changing journey.”

She looked at his broad shoulders and the handsome lines of his face. “Not something you have to worry about. And you didn’t answer my question.”

He grimaced. “I was hoping to distract you.”

“I promise you won’t get in trouble for your answer.”

“I’m taking you at your word.” He pulled a whisk out of a drawer. “Yes, I think women are more willing to worship, for lack of a better word, when it comes to the men in their lives. I don’t know if it’s biological or cultural. But more women than men will live in servitude. My mom is a prime example. She would tell you it was for the greater good. That the world is a better place because of what Ceallach Mitchell has created. If there was a price paid for that, she would say it was worth it.”

“Would you?”

One shoulder rose. “I don’t know. We all survived. We’re all doing fine. Every childhood has a few bumps and bruises.”

She knew what he meant by the phrase, but found herself thinking of her mother. Of how she’d allowed Shelby’s father to beat her. When did a parent cross the line from supportive spouse to monster?

“Shelby? You okay?”

She shook off the thought. “What? I’m fine. Why?”

“You went white.” Aidan circled the island and stood in front of her chair. “What happened?”

“I thought of my mom as a monster. How could I? I loved her so much.”

He cupped her face in his heads. “This is so above my pay grade, but I’ll make a run at it. Yes, you loved her. But she didn’t protect you. I agree that a married couple has to stand together. One day the kids will be grown and they need to be there for each other. But sometimes one of them is just plain wrong. Whether or not you believe in spanking a child, there’s never an excuse to beat one. Your father was wrong to ever touch you, and your mom was wrong to let it happen. Leaving or not leaving was her decision to make for herself. I don’t pretend to understand the psychology of being an abused spouse. But what I do know is that she should have stood between you and your father’s fists. Whether or not she left, she should have protected you. She should have kept you safe. Whether she could have done it or not, I don’t know, but she should have tried.”

Shelby stared at him. “He’s not the reason I can’t trust,” she whispered in shock. “She is. I knew he was broken. I knew there was a darkness inside of him. But she was different. Normal. But she let him do those things. It’s not him, it’s her.”

Tears filled her eyes. She willed them away, but they fell. Aidan pulled her close and wrapped his strong arms around her.

He didn’t say a thing. There were no promises that everything would be okay. She liked that. She liked his strength and that he didn’t seem to mind her getting his shirt wet.

She tried to process what she’d finally figured out. She felt lighter and a little sick to her stomach. Men like her dad were easy to avoid, she thought. Brutes rarely wore a disguise. But her mother was different.

“I still love her,” she whispered. “How sick is that?”

He drew back and cupped her face again. “You’re not sick. You’re incredibly strong. Look at all you’ve been through, yet here you are. Happy, successful. Most people would never have figured out there was a problem, let alone done something about it. You came up with a plan to get better. You roped me into it. You’re one of the most impressive people I’ve ever known, Shelby. I’m honored to be in your life.”

His words settled over her like a blessing. She took them in and let them fill the broken bits of her. Healing would take time—it always did. But she’d made a start. A good one.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He kissed her forehead. “You’re welcome. Better?”

She nodded.

“Good. Because in a couple of hours, we’ll have pie.”