Raiders of the Lost Heart(28)

What was happening here? Were they . . . getting along? Engaging in playful banter? Not wanting to murder each other?

The curled corners of Corrie’s dissertation thrummed through her delicate, slender fingers. What was she thinking? He could see something was on her mind. Something she wanted to ask him. Her lips twitched and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Ford fought to keep from looking at her mouth, but it was like a beacon begging for his attention.

“Ford,” she said, finally breaking the silence, “is everything okay with you?”

This was not where he thought this would be going.

“What? Of course. I’m fine.” He shifted in his seat.

“What did the investor want?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean? I haven’t talked to him in a few days.”

“Then that wasn’t who called you on the sat phone this morning?”

His mouth opened and then he shut it. He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to get into all that.

“That wasn’t the investor. It was a call about my mom.”

“Is she all right?” Corrie asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes, she’s fine. She’s being moved to another facility.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“You sure? You seemed off after that call. Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest. I mean, maybe I’m not the best person for you to talk to and all, but maybe you can talk to someone else about it. Maybe call Addison or something?”

“Addison?” He pulled his face back. Addison was the last person he’d want to talk to about all this. “Why would I call her?”

Corrie blinked rapidly, clearly unaware what she walked into. “I . . . I guess I assumed you’d open up to your girlfriend about things like this. But I suppose every relationship is different.”

Ford laughed, but not a fun, jovial laugh. No, this laugh—or, rather, this scoff—was accompanied by rolling eyes and disbelief.

“I see you haven’t been keeping tabs on me. Addison and I broke up two years ago.”

“Oh,” was all she said. Three solid beats went by before she opened her mouth again. “Well, are you seeing someone else? Maybe you can talk to her?”

“No, Corrie, I’m not.”

“What about Ethan?”

Jeez. Why won’t she let it go? Can’t she see I don’t want to talk about this?

“I don’t need to worry Ethan with my personal shit. We’re here to work.”

“It’s not shit. And I think Ethan would welcome the discussion. He told me how he wished he could have been there for you after your dad passed away, and—”

“My dad? You were talking to Ethan about my dad?” Ford’s body tensed.

“I’m just saying. Clearly something’s bothering you. If not to Ethan, then it might help for you to get it out some other way.”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” he asked, staring at her with a questioning gaze.

“Well, I mean, if you want to talk to me about it, I can listen.” Her tone was gentle as she ran her index finger along the desk.

“After declaring that you’re not the best person for me to talk to? Yeah, sure, Corrie. Sounds like a great idea.”

“Hey, I’m trying to help.”

“I get that, and thanks, but you wouldn’t understand.”

“Really? Wouldn’t understand? Did you know my mom passed away after battling breast cancer four years ago now? I bought a house two blocks down from my parents so I could help my dad care for her that last year. I was there every day. And after she passed . . .” Corrie paused for a moment, clearing the croak in her throat. “I know that feeling, too. What it feels like when you lose a parent. You’re crushed. Lost. And you can’t stop wondering when and if that feeling is ever going to go away.”

“I don’t have any of that. The only thing I feel about my father is that he was a sack of shit.” Anger started to roil under his skin, forcing Ford to pull his hands under the desk to hide his fists. He felt for her, but their situations were nothing alike.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Corrie, I’m telling you, you need to let this go,” he said, his patience wearing thin.

But she didn’t, continuing on as if she hadn’t heard him. “I know how close you were to your parents—”

Ford couldn’t take it any longer. “Yeah, until my dad died and left my mother with nothing!” he yelled out, jumping from his chair and leaning over the desk. “Nothing except a giant stinking pile of debt. So tell me, Corrie. Was that what it was like when your mom died? Because if so, I’d love to hear how you coped with that situation.”

Corrie stood speechless across the desk. But what did she expect? That he was going to pour his heart out and cry in her arms? Screw her. When her mom had died, they’d probably celebrated her life. Had a party. She couldn’t possibly understand what it was like when his father had died and he’d realized his hero was nothing but a selfish, spineless hack. Realized that the person he’d spent his whole life trying to emulate was now the only person he truly hated.

“So, what, Corrie?” he continued to drill, his knuckles now resting atop the topo maps. “Did you talk to your boyfriend about it? Did he decide that maybe it was a good time to tell you that your relationship wasn’t working? Hm? Did you? Come on, Corrie. Tell me. I want to know if you truly understand what I’ve been going through. If you have experience dealing with that, too. Though what I really want to know is how talking about it with you is going to make me feel better, because right now I feel like shit.”