I made a humming sound of agreement.
“What happened to Luciana?”
“She died.”
Preston shook his head. “That’s awful.”
“I know.”
I bit at my lip for a moment. “It’s part of the reason I moved in with you when you asked. The way my mother looked at me,” I shook my head at the memory of the pain in her eyes, as if she could hardly bear it, “to see me pregnant and miserable, it—”
“It reminded her of herself.”
I nodded. “It must have.”
Sadness filled his expression. “I’m so sorry you were left to choose between two places where you felt unwanted—and even more sorry I was part of that. And I understand why you never shared more of your life with me, with us,” Preston said. “But I wish you had.”
“I didn’t know how to. Growing up, I always had this sense that I was . . . less. The feeling of not belonging anywhere has followed me so relentlessly. It’s why I kept myself away from you and Cole, and everyone else who ever tried to befriend me. It’s like I wanted it desperately, but I resisted it stridently. It’s why I defended those people who live in the camp like some avenger.” I laughed softly and he smiled. “I meant what I said, but I didn’t mean to make you the villain. You’re not. You’re kind and fair and honorable, and I’m sorry I suggested anything differently. I went a little off the rails there.”
His smile widened and he chuckled softly. “I might have even liked it if it wasn’t directed at me. You’re pretty sexy when you’re fired up.”
I tilted my head and smiled at him, the mood lighter, the weight lifted from my shoulders. “In all honesty, Preston, I want to help out at the camp. I won’t put myself in danger, and it gives me a feeling of . . . purpose. Maybe you’d even like to come along sometime.”
“Maybe I will,” he said on a small smile.
I grasped his hand in mine. “I love you. And I promise you I won’t leave again—no matter what. Please, please believe that.”
“I love you, too.”
I squeezed his hand and then looked around the old barn, remembering what his mom had said. “Your mom said your dad used to come out here and pace.”
He looked surprised at my words, or maybe that I’d heard them from his mother. “Yeah. He did. After they fought, he’d come out here and smoke. It was the only time he did, and I learned to associate that smell with this helpless kind of resentment. Even now, if I pass by someone smoking and . . .” He shook his head, staring off into the distance. “I hated it—I hated being around them when they were together. They didn’t have a happy marriage.”
That surprised me. I’d always thought Preston’s family was so perfect. Of course once I’d come to know his mother, I realized that she, at least, was far from easy to live with. But I had taken it personally. Apparently the three men in her life found it at least a little bit difficult to live with her, too.
I remembered what Cole had told me about her buying the motorcycle for their father. It had sounded like she bought it in an effort to make him into something he might not have been. How tragic that her son had died on the motorcycle she’d purchased with misguided intentions. She and I weren’t close enough to discuss things like that, but I had to wonder if she thought about that and suffered inside because of it.
“What about Cole? Did he have a good relationship with her?”
Preston shrugged. “Cole had a good relationship with everyone. Or maybe he just didn’t let anything get under his skin enough for it to be any other way.” He paused for a moment and I let him choose his words, almost holding my breath to hear him voicing his feelings about his brother. “When we were young and got in trouble, Cole always talked our way out of things. If he couldn’t, I’d take the blame and serve the time. It was just . . . the roles we naturally fell into. In high school, and even a few times in college, Cole wasn’t prepared for some test or another, so I’d go to the class and pretend to be him and take it so he didn’t fail.” He laughed softly, but it didn’t hold a lot of humor. “I think he would have been better off if I’d let him fall on his face a couple of times. I just couldn’t seem to do it. And I think I would have been better off if I’d learned not to let him be my mouthpiece. But we were twins, and it felt natural to pick up where the other one left off—two pieces of a whole.” An expression of pain altered his features for a moment before he sighed. “Cole did some things that hurt me, and some things that were wrong and dishonest, but I miss him. He wasn’t only my brother. He was my twin—the other half of me—and I’ll miss him forever.”
“I know. I will, too.” Tears filled my eyes, but they didn’t fall. “I don’t think Cole meant to hurt you. He just never took anything very seriously. I used to think that the two of you were such opposites. Cole never took anything seriously enough and you took things too seriously. He didn’t have enough honor, and you would kill yourself to keep your word.” I gave him a smile that felt sad when his eyes met mine.
“He cared about you, though, Lia. You might have been the only girl he ever really did care about.”
I tilted my head, considering that. “Yes, he did care about me, but like a sister. I think he would have come to realize that, too. Most of the time we spent together, we’d end up talking. He was protective of me, but not passionate for me. It was never like that with us. He wanted to protect my virtue, but he never really staked a claim of his own.” Cole had turned into a gentleman when he kissed me, and Preston had turned into a marauder. There was nothing wrong with a gentleman, but I didn’t think it was necessarily Cole’s true nature that brought out that reaction, but rather his lack of passion for me. Frankly, though it had hurt me on occasion, I wanted the fiery lust that Preston exhibited when we touched.
“He was attracted to you,” Preston said quietly. I watched as his hands clenched and unclenched slowly on his thighs and then he frowned as if saying the words bothered him and he felt guilty for that.
I put my hand on one of his, lacing our fingers. “You can think someone’s attractive and still not feel any real passion for them.”
His eyes moved to mine and he stared at me for a moment before he let out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s true.”
His expression made me think his mind was in the past for a few moments before he made a small humming sound and returned my same sad smile, squeezing my hand in his.
We sat in companionable silence for a few moments. My eyes caught on the benches that had been pulled forward for that barn party, the one that had resulted in an unplanned pregnancy and plenty of despair. “It seems so surreal that the party where we made love for the first time was almost two years ago,” I mused. “In some ways it seems like a lifetime.”