On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

at night, knowing that no matter how tight she made the covers, they still couldn't protect you? How she let you walk outside and cross the street?" He shook his head, his lips tight, his face pale, his eyes dark with pain. "I didn't know how she did it. I just knew that I couldn't. So I pushed you away, but you kept coming back."
    "What a fool I was," she said, her eyes blurring with tears. "I just don’t understand why Mom stayed with you."
    "I don't know either. You weren't the only one I couldn't love. That's why I worked all the time. At work I felt right. At home, everything was wrong. I was a terrible parent, not just to you, but also to Stephen. I didn't keep him safe. I wasn't meant to be a father."
    "Why did you keep Stephen's life a secret?"
    "Because it hurt too much to talk about him. Your mother wanted to, but I wouldn't let her. And I wouldn't let anyone else talk about him either. We moved away. We had new friends. No one knew we had lost a child, and that's the way I wanted to keep it."
    "And everyone agreed? Even Grandma and Grandpa?"
    "They protested at first. They probably talked to your Mom about Stephen, but it had been a few years by the time you were born, and when I asked them to respect my wishes, they reluctantly agreed. Everyone decided that you would be better off not growing up in the shadow of tragedy."
    "I don't believe you kept the secret to protect me," she said. "It was all about you." She paused for a long moment. "Do you ever think about him?"
    "More than I want to," he replied. "It's been worse since your Mom died and you moved away. The house is very quiet. I can't hide from my thoughts the way I used to."
    "Why keep the photos in the basement? You're the only one in the house now."
    "I promised your mother right before she died that I wouldn't throw them away. She wanted me to tell you the truth, but I couldn't make that promise. I didn’t move them upstairs, because I was afraid you'd stumble upon them."
    "But you had to know that one day I'd find the photos."
    "I was hoping I'd be gone by then," he said frankly. "Is that it, Sara? Have I answered all your questions?"
    She stared at him for a long minute. "When I saw the pictures, it wasn't the child who shocked me the most, it was you—it was your face, your smile. Don't you ever want to feel like that again? Don't you miss feeling good? Having a family? Enjoying your life?"
    He shook his head. "I'll never be that man again."
    "You could be."
    "Why would you care if I'm happy or not? We both know I've treated you badly."
    "You have been terrible to me," she agreed. "And I realize now that you wanted to make sure that I hated you. Because my hate was easier to take than my love."
    He drew in a ragged breath. "When you were a little girl, before you realized what kind of father you had, you used to look at me with this sweet smile. You wanted to hold my hand. You wanted me to tell you a story. And I knew you were going to break what was left of my heart, and I couldn't let you do that. I just couldn't, Sara. I was holding on by a thread, and you were going to snap that thread. I couldn't let that happen."
    His eyes glittered with moisture. Tears, she wondered in amazement. Was it possible this ice cold man could actually cry?
    "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the father you deserved."
    His apology brought tears to her eyes. "And I'm sorry about Stephen. I wish I'd known him. I wish you hadn't kept his life from me, because he was my brother. He was four years old when he died. He had a personality. He had a life. And I wish I'd known about it, because he was part of our family."
    "Stephen was impulsive and fun-loving, very imaginative," her father said. "He had to explore. He was so curious. That's why he left the house. He wanted to see what I was doing. It was my fault he was out there."
    "You didn't close a door. That's not a crime. It's just a mistake. A tragic mistake."
    "You're letting me off too easily."
    "I doubt anyone could free you of your guilt. I'm sure my mother tried, and she obviously failed."
    "So what now?" he asked.
    She let out a breath. "I have no idea. But the relationship we had is over. I'm done with that."
    He nodded. "I understand."
    "But…" She couldn't believe what she was about to say. "If you want to try to get to know each other as adults, I'm open to it."
    A glint of admiration entered his eyes. "You're a strong woman, Sara."
    "I am," she said, meeting his gaze. "And ironically