Hurricanes in Paradise by Denise Hildreth (best ereader under 100 .TXT) 📗

Christian leaned against the end of the bench. “I’m sorry about that. Those can be difficult, I know. I’ve had a couple. But I’ve figured out pretty quickly that the drinking is just a by-product of something deeper going on. I usually try to get to the bottom of that. I learned half of my job is being a counselor.”

Riley smiled. She pulled her feet back up on the bench and tucked her dress around her legs, then leaned back so she could face him. The candle behind him flickered light against the right side of his face. She felt her tension begin to release. “I know. I don’t know what it is about her, though. She’s not nice sober, either. And she’s intimidating. It’s like I’m this ignorant schoolgirl when she’s around, even though I’m the one giving her the information. But it’s like she thrives on making me feel like an idiot.”

“Anyone that is around you for a moment, Riley, knows you’re not an idiot.”

Riley shifted against the wooden beam, and her foot slid against his knee. She pulled it back quickly, but the effect was already done. “Tell that to me when I’m with her.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. “So what are you doing here so late tonight?”

“Me?” He smiled as he crossed his ankles and folded his arms across his chest. “A guest had a rough day. Just thought I should check to make sure their evening was going better than their day had gone. Not much different from you, I guess.”

“Yes, it’s different. I had dinner with her because I didn’t have a choice.” She cocked her head at him, studying him in the dim light of the evening. “You did. And you chose to take care of your client. And you’re not sitting here lambasting them when they can’t defend themselves. I’m horrible.” She set her chin on top of her arms.

He laughed. “You’re tired. We all have our days.”

“But I shouldn’t. Not with her . . . and not over this.” The last words were spoken more to herself. Hoping he hadn’t heard, she changed the subject. “So what brought you here? This man from Greece coming to Paradise Island.”

No words came for a moment. He simply kept his black eyes on her. Then he finally spoke. “Healing.”

Her foot slipped and brushed his leg again. She crossed them underneath her so it wouldn’t happen again. “What would you need to heal from?”

“A marriage that should have worked but didn’t. I’ve been in Miami for the last ten years. A year after I arrived, I met a woman who stole my heart. Loved her the best I knew how, but sometimes that isn’t enough. After eight years of marriage, she had another plan.”

The pain that still existed in his heart became evident on his face. She knew that look. “What kind of a plan?”

“The I-don’t-want-to-be-married-anymore plan. The this-isn’t-the-life-I-want plan. You name it, she said it.”

“Any children?”

“No, she changed her mind about that after our second year of marriage. That was the first time I realized that we were in trouble.”

“What did you do?”

“Kept hoping. Kept praying. Kept believing for a miracle. That I could love her enough to fill whatever this hole was inside of her. But you can’t. Learned that a little too late, but you can’t fill something that was made for something eternal. So eventually she packed her bags in search of something she thought was ‘out there.’ When all along it was ‘in here,’” he said, tapping his chest, the linen shirt moving beneath his touch.

“I’m sorry, Christian.”

“Me too. Wasn’t in the plan. Mine, anyway.”

“So how’s it going? The healing part.”

He smiled. “Good. Got a great counselor early on and just said, whatever is in me that got me here, I want it out of me.”

“Doesn’t sound like there was anything in you.”

“Yeah, I thought that too. Realized just thinking that was part of the problem. I thought I could be enough. Realized that I tried to play rescuer. Didn’t work too well. Codependency looks a lot like incredible love. Turns out it’s just an excuse for not wanting to confront things that are wrong in your home. So you just avoid them. I avoided confrontation all the way to divorce court. I’d say there was a lot in me to get out. I had completely shut down my voice. Took a while to get it back. That is just as damaging as the person who doesn’t know how to silence theirs.”

“So then, back to the healing part. How’s it going?”

“Can’t say I don’t grieve at times. But I don’t live broken anymore. Found my voice again. Realized I actually did enjoy life and that there was a life out there to live. And right now I’m enjoying this.”

His look unnerved her. Unease washed over her with the warm breeze that flowed through the foyer.

He must have noticed too because he changed the subject quickly. “So where did you take her for dinner tonight?”

“The Bahamian Club.”

“Ooh, good food.”

“I could hardly eat. I’m starving.”

“Who’s got Gabby?”

“Her dad. He came today and took her for some time together.” She looked at her watch, the sorrow of what she missed washing over her again. “They’re on their way to the airport by now.”

He stood and reached out his hand. “Okay then, come on. Let me take you to get something to eat.”

She looked at the hand that was extended to her. She wanted to go. She really did. But she couldn’t. Divorced or not, he wouldn’t understand her stuff. No one would. She put her hand in his and let him help her to her feet. “Thank you again. But honestly, my mind is so tired, I wouldn’t be great company.”

“You just were,” he said, nudging her slightly. “You can just eat. I won’t even make you talk anymore.”

She laughed. “No, really. Thank you.” She leaned down and picked up her shoes, letting