Jane moves so quickly that he barely caught her. Trapping her with his hand on her arm, he said, "Wait. I want to thank you for what you've done this past week. I don't know how we would have gotten along without you."
"You're welcome," she said without looking at him. I've enjoyed the time with the children."
He drew a deep breath. "I want us to be together again, Jane. The way we were before."
She stiffened. "Regular Friday-night dates?" she asked after a pause. "The occasional nooner at my place? You leading your life and me leading mine? Sorry, that's not good enough for me anymore."
He shook his head impatiently. "That isn't what I meant. I want a real relationship this time. I won't keep you from my kids again."
"That sounds a lot like another arrangement of convenience to me, one that now includes babysitting. As much as I love Tom and Amy, I'm going to have to pass."
"Damn it, Jane, that isn't what I mean." He wished she would turn to look at him, by she stood rigidly, offering no encouragement. He played his last card with a sense of desperation. "I love you."
She moved then, but not the way he'd hoped. She jerked away from him, taking another step toward the door.
"Jane," he repeated, just in case she hadn't heard. "I love you."
She wouldn't look at him. "There can't be love without trust."
"There's no one I trust more than you. I hurt you and damn near ruined my own life before it finally sank in, but it's true."
She turned very slowly, her eyes narrowed. Angry. "You didn't just hurt me, Tyler. You devastated me. What makes you think I can ever trust you now?"
It was illuminating being on the other side. He hated it. "I—"
"I won't spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you that I'm not like your wife," she said flatly. "I used to worry that she had been too perfect, that I could never live up to her image. Now I'm afraid I could never escape her shadow. It isn't fair for you to put that burden on me. I don't know what she did to you, since you've never talked to me about it, but I won't—"
"There's a chance that Amy is not my daughter." The words seemed to have ripped from his chest. He had never spoken them aloud before, and it was even more painful than he had imagined. Each syllable seemed to slice his throat as it passed through.
The effect on Jane was dramatic. Her face went pale, her eyes huge. "Oh, Tyler—"
He forced himself to speak again. "I found out after Stephanie died that she'd been having affairs. After reading her journal, I realized that even she didn't know exactly who had fathered Amy. While she was imitating the perfect Stepford wife for me, she was playing around while I was at work, leaving the household to the maids and nannies. I thought she was occupied with charitable activities. Her 'charities' turned out to be married senators Amy was three months old when I read that. I really loved her more than my own life, and I still do. I just don't know if she—"
His voice broke.
"Tyler, I'm so sorry. You must have been—"
"Devastated," he supplied, remembering the word Jane had used earlier. "I had just lost my wife. And then I found out that I hadn't really known her. And my baby girl—"
She took a tiny step toward him. "You never had a blood test?"
"No. I'm afraid to," he said simply. That cowardly streak of his again. Until Stephanie had died, taking his smug illusions of control with her, he'd always thought himself a reasonably bold and confident man.