All these months, she’d been thinking she was proving her ability to be over Brett. To help Chloe and Nora and others take back ownership of their minds. Their hearts. Themselves. And while Chloe had grown stronger, Ella had fallen prey all over again...

“He must be a pretty fine man, this ex-husband of yours,” Lila said, her eyes glistening as though she might be holding back tears.

“He’s a great man, Lila. And I don’t just say that because I love him. I look at what he’s done with his life, apart from me, of course. He is a man who has a national reputation for honesty. He got a lot of press at a young age due to a business he’d developed and sold. He was the golden boy everyone could trust. And still is. Believe me, some would love to find dirt on him, but it’s just not there.

“He has never once given me cause to doubt his integrity.”

“It sounds like he’s a man worth fighting for.”

The words stopped her.

Again.

“I thought the plan was for me to be free of him once and for all.”

“The plan is for you to be healthy.”

“How can I be healthy while I’m controlled by the love I feel for him?”

“Are you sure that’s a bad thing? If you were in an abusive situation and continued to go back to it, that would be unhealthy. But from what you’ve said, that’s not the case here.”

“It can’t be healthy, though. It’s like we’re both beating our heads against the wall. We just keep hurting each other.”

“I’m suggesting that maybe love is pushing you toward him for a reason. You love him. And maybe it’s that love that keeps sending you back to him. Love isn’t easy, my dear. Nor is it always wrapped in pretty packages. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes you have to go through hell to get to where you need to be. But the love is strong enough to carry you through.”

The words were softly spoken, but they exploded inside her.

She felt as if she was fighting a losing battle. Because she was. She was trying to fight love, and there was no way she was going to win that one.

And still, settling into a relationship where she’d never be happy or fulfilled didn’t feel right, either.

“So what do I do?” Ella rubbed her hand over her growing belly. Taking comfort from the being who nestled there so trustingly.

Lila glanced at Ella’s hand caressing her baby, a sad expression on her face, and Ella wondered again about the woman. Word through Chloe was that no one really knew much about Lila’s past. “I’m not an expert on love, sweetie,” she said. “But it seems to me that when love is your guiding force, then you need to listen to your heart, not your head, to find your answers.”

Her heart started to thud. The air cooled. It heated. Ella wanted to grin. And to cry.

“You think I should do whatever I can to get him to try again?” It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? In her deepest heart.

“I’m not a counselor,” Lila said. “And I can’t tell you that. From what you say, he’s probably facing some very real issues. I’m only saying that your heart is not accepting the choices your mind is making. You might want to find out why.”

Her heart would have her running to Brett. Her heart would have her willing to accept whatever crumbs of himself he could give her. Her heart would have her hoping that someday he’d trust himself enough to love her back.

She couldn’t take any more chances on hope.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

THERE WAS STILL no word from Ella when Brett shut down his phone and boarded the plane home that night. He must have scared her, offering her his home. Perhaps it had seemed like nothing more than a grand gesture.

He’d meant only to give her every part of himself that he could. Because he couldn’t give her what she wanted...

Brett had come full circle. Sitting on the plane after his meeting, he was grateful for the physical restraint holding him in his seat.

He’d upgraded himself to first class. He needed the space.

And ordered a cocktail. To calm his nerves.

Realizing his hands were once again clenching the armrests, he forced his muscles to relax.

He was a little boy again, a month after his tenth birthday. His little sister had been sick. His parents had just come home from the doctor. They were fighting. His father was saying things Brett didn’t really understand. Using words that had never been spoken in their home before. His mother had started to cry.

Livia, seven at the time, had whispered to him, “I’m scared, Brett.”

She was on the couch, where their father had set her when he’d carried her in. Brett was with her. He’d been reading, but put the Baby-Sitters Little Sister book down and told her, “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

He’d really believed he could protect her. His folks had given him the job when she was born. Before they even brought her home from the hospital. “You’re the big brother,” they’d said, assuring him that his role was as important as anyone else’s. That he wouldn’t get any less time and attention from them.

He’d been only three.

But he remembered hearing that.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered. Nothing he’d known during those first ten years of his life had mattered.

He hadn’t been able to help Livia. She’d been scared of dying, and he’d sat there and watched her die.

He’d told his mother he wouldn’t let his father lay another hand on her, but the old man had just knocked him out cold and hit her anyway.

He’d made a silent promise to Ella that he’d never hurt her.

And that was just about all he’d done.

His plans...they hadn’t worked.

Which left him with...nothing.

No plan. No action to take. No solutions.

The engine droned. A lady across the aisle snored. He was like his mother. He shut down. Cut people off. He couldn’t open his heart to the woman he loved more than life.

He dared anyone to sit there with a sick little girl who was looking to you to make it all better. To listen to his mom get the crap beat out of her because another medical bill had come in, and they didn’t have the money to pay and be too young to get a job.

You have to make your own choices, Brett. How often had he heard his mother say those words?

She’d been so certain he’d make the right ones.

And how could she believe that? He’d made one wrong choice after another.

You aren’t your father, Brett, you’re your mother.

Ella’s words came back to him. Brett closed his eyes. Tried to sleep.

Rage is distorted anger. Usually resulting from internal shame. He’d read that someplace.

Rage triggered fight-or-flight tendencies. Which triggered chemicals in the brain to see everyone in sight as an enemy. To distort thought.

To lash out at everyone.

He knew all of this.

Knew it.

Your instincts are honed to prevent abuse. Ella had told him that when he’d saved Jeff from hitting Chloe.

You’re a great man, just one who’s chosen to live life on the sidelines. He could see Ella standing on the boat in the dark, looking so damned sexy in jeans and that big bulky sweater.

I’m scared, Brett.

Don’t worry, I’m here.

Livia had trusted him.

It’s not a matter of what I think of you, Brett. It’s a matter of what you think of you that’s always been the problem.

Ella had taken a chance on him. Married him. Loved him.

I’m scared, Brett.

You’ve taken thirteen years of my life. You can’t have any more.

And that was really it, wasn’t it?

He’d had his chances. And he’d blown them.

The overhead speaker crackled. The captain’s voice came on asking the flight attendants to prepare the cabin for arrival.

A good man was all he’d ever wanted to be.

He’d taken control of his life, of his behavior.

And now the only thing he could do, was being made to do, was return his seat back to its full upright position and hand over his first-class tray table.