The Mirror - Page 222

She wept against him, and as the dogs tried to push their way in, as the cat circled, Trey shook his head.

“Go on now. Go on.”

He held on, half afraid the sobs would shatter her like glass. He gave her his silence, and the time she needed to purge herself of what struck him as a terrible grief.

A grief that stabbed at his heart as she wept it out in his arms.

When her sobs subsided, she gave one long shudder.

“I hate I gave her that. I hate I gave her tears.”

“I hope she drowns in them. Come on, let’s go inside.”

She shook her head, then laid it on his shoulder with a sigh.

“I need the air. I thought I needed the sea, but I think I need the garden. The color of it. The life. Can we walk?”

Easing back, he took her face in his hands. Ravaged eyes, still brimming, and tears clinging to her lashes.

“Sonya.” Undone, he kissed her. Gently, gently, even as some part deep inside him wanted to pound to dust whatever had caused that storm of grief.

He took her hand, and with his other reached in his pocket for a handkerchief.

“You have a handkerchief,” she said as he dried the tears on her face. “You’re wearing a suit, and you have an actual handkerchief.”

“I had court this morning, and an emotional client.”

“Oh, right. You told me—about court, not the client. You’re too discreet to talk about your clients. Did you win?”

“As a matter of fact.”

“That’s good. You’re early, aren’t you? I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so glad you came early. Then I cried all over your nice suit.”

“Going to tell me why?”

She nodded, began to walk. “I had a meeting, virtual, so… Let me go back. I took a couple hours late this morning—late for me, not Cleo—to go with her and work on the nursery mural. It’s pretty damn fabulous.”

“I’ve heard. Cleo’s still at Anna’s?”

In her time, he thought, at her pace.

“I guess, or on her way home by now. I had to get back for the meeting. I stopped for flowers and brownies. You were bringing dinner.”

“Owen’s getting it.”

As they circled around the house, he glanced up at the Gold Room, then banked his murderous thoughts.

“I let Yoda and Pye out, left the door open until I put the brownies away, dealt with the flowers. But before I could…”

She trailed off again as it struck her. “She didn’t greet me. Clover always greets me with music when I come home, but she didn’t. I just realized that. I guess she knew. Does it matter? Maybe, maybe not.

“You’re letting me ramble,” she said. “Just ramble away. NoWhat the hell happened, Sonya?NoWhat the fuck’s going on?Not from you.”

“Things come out in a ramble, if you pay attention.”

“And you do, pay attention. And because of that, I feel more myself than I have since—the mirror.”

“You went through?”