She smiled. “Something tells me you used to have this as a bedtime snack when you were a kid.”
He hadn’t thought about those times in quite a while. These days he tried to keep his focus on the future. “I did. My mother would give me cookies and milk when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Did that happen often? The not-sleeping part.”
He sat his glass on the coffee table alongside the cookies. He leaned back on the couch, letting his thoughts roll back in time. He’d purposely blocked those memories from his thoughts.
But Alina had opened not only her home but also parts of her past to him; how could he not do the same for her? It wasn’t like she knew what she was asking. How could she know when from the outside the Toliver family looked like they should have everything? But they hadn’t. Far from it.
And the thing was that Graham hadn’t even known how deep some of the lies had gone until long after he’d stepped in to run the family business. And now he was in so deep that he just had to keep up appearances while he realigned the business.
“When I was young my parents for the most part lived separate lives. My father was all about living in the fast lane in the city. He wanted to be around for business dinners and arrive early at the office before the other employees.”
Graham had never told any of this to anyone else, including the woman he’d almost married. Maybe that should have been a warning flag to him that their relationship wasn’t as strong as it needed to be to pledge forever. But they weren’t discussing that right now. “My mother preferred the calm serenity of the suburbs. She said it was better for raising a child.”
“Was it?” Alina asked. “I mean, did you like living outside of the city?”
“I never really thought about it, but I didn’t dislike it.”
“I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. It’s like this city gets in your blood and you’re lost without it.”
“Now that I’ve lived here for a number of years, I understand what you mean.”
“So you don’t miss the quiet of the burbs?”
“Sometimes the silence just gives way to deeper thoughts.”
“And what thoughts did you have?”
“That appearances can be a front for hiding secrets.” He stopped there. What was he doing digging up all of this family drama? He could feel Alina’s curious gaze on him. It was his fault for starting this conversation. He might as well finish it. “My parents were all about appearances. My mother prided herself on being the perfect wife and mother. My father prided himself on being a shrewd businessman. And none of that in and of itself is bad, not until you let it rule your entire life.”
In that moment, he felt Alina’s touch. She wrapped her soft fingers around his hand and squeezed. “I think everyone wants to show the world the image of a perfect family.”
He turned to her. “But what happens when, behind the scenes, it’s anything but perfect?” He turned his focus back to the blank wall in front of him. “My mother was alone with me all week. My father would come home Friday evenings. I don’t know why he bothered because all he wanted was to be left alone to concentrate on the reports he’d brought home with him. And my mother was lonely and wanted his company.”
“And what about you?” Alina’s voice was soft. “You must have missed him terribly. I know that I loved spending time with my father, even if it included fixing a clogged pipe. Not one of my favorite tasks.”
Graham shrugged. “I had my friends.”
“But they couldn’t replace your father.”
He recalled the past—the real past—not the snippets he often referred to when asked about his youth. “I never lived up to my father’s expectations.”
“I’m sure you did. Maybe he just didn’t know how to communicate his feelings.”
Graham shook his head. “I tried to impress him with my grades in school, but all he could see was the one mark that wasn’t the best. And then I participated in sports, most any sport, hoping it would be a bridge for us, but my efforts were never enough. My father said you needed to be the best or not even bother trying.”
Graham glanced at her, seeing the sympathy in her blue eyes. It made him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want people’s sympathy. That’s why he never opened up.
“Don’t,” he said.
“Don’t what?”
“Feel sorry for me. I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I run one of the biggest companies in the world.” Though it didn’t fill the hollow spot in his chest. He told himself that if he reorganized the company, overcame his father’s business errors and built Toliver Tower, it was all he needed to feel fulfilled.
“But you’re not fine,” Alina said in a gentle voice.
He jerked away from her hold and slid over on the couch. When he turned to her, he saw the pity in her eyes and it ignited his anger. “How can you say that? You’re the one who is still living in her childhood home and refusing to move out—refusing to see what the world has to offer.”