Free Remember Love by Jessica Nelson Page A

she walked in and she caught
the raw emotion shadowing his eyes before they shuttered. 
    Once again the
enormity of what she’d done rushed in on her. She gripped the kitchen table,
legs weak, chest heaving. The naked sorrow on his face . . . She took a deep
breath and forced herself to sit in a chair. She couldn’t cry. Not now.
Thoughts raced, jumbled.
     "Why are
you here, Alec?" she asked, unsure why the question tumbled out but
suddenly needing to know.
    "The
million-dollar question. But do you mean in town or in your house?"
    "My house."
    "Had to
return your purse."
    Her face heated
as she remembered. Somehow, it didn’t seem like it should be the only reason. "That’s
right," she whispered, throat parched.
    Alec eyed her,
then sat down across from her. "I’m also here to see those videos. I want
to know Joey. I need to see everything there is."
    Water. If she
could only have a sip, maybe it would ease the stiffness of her tongue. "I
have them ready for you."
    "How
convenient. Almost as if you planned to tell me I had a son."
    It was probably
lack of sleep, but her hackles rose at his tone. "You should’ve answered
the letters I sent."
    His eyebrows shot
up. "Letters?" Then his eyes narrowed. "You mean your sporadic
e-mails the first year or so?"
    "No, I mean
paper. Real letters."
    "I have no
clue what you’re talking about."
    "Your post
office box in New York?"
    The scorn on his
face drained away, leaving his mouth soft. "I’ve never had a box in New
York, Kitty." His fingers drummed the table. "But my mother did."
    Idiot. Why hadn’t
she suspected? She gnawed her lower lip. That his mother, a junkie and an
alcoholic, had the presence of mind to thwart her letters was beyond strange.
Yet it had to be true because they’d been sent back. She saw the anger
simmering in Alec’s eyes at the realization of his mother’s interference.
    Shame smoothed
away any lingering defensiveness. "I’m so sorry. When the letters were returned
unopened, I assumed it was you. Just like you ignored my other attempts at
contact."
    "There
weren’t many, and I only ignored you for awhile."
    "More than a
year."
    He inclined his head,
surrendering to the fact that he had left her alone. Deserted her.
    But he hadn’t sent the letters back. This changed things, if only a little. Maybe if
she’d tried harder to reach him, through some other means . . .
    "Mom and I
rarely saw each other in New York." Alec spoke slowly, as though he
struggled to form each word.
    "She told me
she moved there for you."
    "And you
believed her?" His fingers slid together, resting on the table in a clasp.
"There were other ways to tell me."
    Katrina winced. The
truth was that trying to reach him hadn’t topped her list of priorities. In the
beginning, perhaps, before she’d known she was pregnant, when she’d just wanted
him to come back to her. But he ignored her calls and e-mails. His actions hurt
and she stopped trying to contact him, not even bothering to tell him about the
pregnancy.
     After Joey’s
first birthday, however, she’d changed her mind, but then he’d been so hard to
find. Her efforts became half-hearted.
    She swallowed
hard. No way could she tell Alec that.
     "I filled the
box for you after Joey died." As if that made up for her avoidance.
    "Really?"
His brow arched, a haughty curve that said nothing was forgiven, despite his
mother’s intrusion.
    "I was going
to mail it to you once you came back to the States."
    "I’ve been
back for a year."
    "Yes, I
know." Her fingers laced together, their grip so tight her knuckles ached.
"Things have been busy at the shop." A pathetic excuse. But Joey was
dead, and she hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to contact Alec. Why bother,
when he could never meet his son?
    "Too busy to
let a man know about his only child?" Bitterness edged his words, cut
through the pretense, and her shoulders slumped.
    She scooted the
chair back and stood. Fighting accomplished nothing. "I can’t