Riptide by Catherine Coulter

it now. She said it slowly, calmly, aware that Sam was now very still

again, not eating, listening, but she had no choice. She said, “I’m

truly sorry if you’ve misunderstood, Tyler. You and Sam are my

very dear friends. I care about both of you quite a lot. I’ve appreciated

all you’ve done for me, the support you’ve given me, the

confidence you’ve had in me, but I can’t be your wife. I’m very sorry, but I just don’t feel about you the way you want me to.”

Sam continued to sit there on two thick phone books, still and

silent, the half-chewed pork rib clutched in his small fingers.

She forced a smile. “We should probably have this talk after

Sam’s gone to bed, don’t you think?”

“Why? It concerns him. He wants you for his mother, Becca. I

told him that was why you were coming back. I told him you were

going to fix everything and you’d be here for him forever.”

“We should speak of this later, Tyler. This is between us. Please.”

Sam looked down at his plate, his small face drawn, pale in the

dim kitchen light.

“All right then,” Tyler said. “I’m going to put Sam down with a

blanket in the living room, on that real comfortable sofa. What do

you think, Sam?”

Sam didn’t tell them what he thought.

“I’ll be right back, Becca.”

He scooped Sam up off his phone books and carried him out of

the kitchen. She shivered. The house felt uncomfortably cool. She

hoped Sam would be warm enough with just one blanket. She

hoped Sam had gotten enough to eat. She wished Tyler had wiped

Sam’s fingers off better.

What was she going to do? Was she the one off base here? Had

she given Tyler the wrong impression? She’d known he was jealous

of Adam, and that’s when she had pulled back from him, even cooling

her friendship toward him. But still he’d misunderstood, still

he’d come to believe that she wanted to be his wife. How could it

be possible? She’d said nothing, done nothing, to give him that

idea. And he was using Sam, which was despicable of him.

Sam. What was she going to do? There was something very

wrong, triggered, she supposed, by Krimakov’s kidnapping of him.

She heard Tyler walking back toward the kitchen. She had to clear

this up, quickly and cleanly. She had to think what she could do to

help Sam.

She’d gotten the name of a really good child psychologist in

Bangor from Sherlock. She would start there.

But she didn’t have a chance to start anything because Tyler said

from the doorway, “I love you, Becca.”

Chapter 32

to, Tyler, no.”

Tyler just smiled at her, an intimate smile that chilled her to the

bone. “I’ve loved you from that first time I saw you in Hadley’s

freshman dorm at Dartmouth. You were looking lost, wondering

where to find a bathroom.”

She smiled at that, no recollection at all of that meeting. “You

didn’t love me, Tyler. You dated lots of girls in college. You married

Sam’s mother, Ann. You loved her.”

He came into the kitchen and sat down across from her. “Sure I

loved her for a while, but she left me, Becca. She left me and she

didn’t plan to come back. She was even going to take Sam, but I

didn’t let her.”

What was he talking about? Of course things couldn’t have been

smooth between them, since Ann had ended up leaving him.

They’d faced off about it? There’d been a confrontation? But that

didn’t concern her now. She said, “I’m really sorry if you’ve gotten

the wrong idea, Tyler. Please believe me. I am your friend and I

hope I always will be. I would like to see Sam grow up.”

“Since you’re going to be his mother, of course you’ll see him

grow up. You’ll make him well again, Becca. He’s been silent and

withdrawn ever since his mother left.”

“Would you like some coffee?”

‘Sure, if you’re going to make some.” He watched her measure

the coffee into the machine, then pour in the water. He watched

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