Jane Porter - Marco's Pride

He felt the blood drain from his face. “I couldn’t make it.”

“So call me. E-mail me. Tell me so your children won’t be disappointed!”

“They didn’t even notice I wasn’t there.”

He had no idea, she thought, seething. He had no idea how out of touch he was.

Her chest burned and her eyes felt gritty and she realized she was angry—not just with him, but with fate and life and everything. “Do you know they spent their party watching the door? Do you know they begged me not to cut the cake just in case you arrived late?”

“Payton, stop.”

“No, you stop. You stop treating the girls badly because you’re angry with me. They didn’t divorce you. They’re not to blame.”

His shoulders slumped. “I don’t blame them.”

“It seems like it.”

“Then why are you here?”

She dashed her fists beneath her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “My mother died earlier in the year. If anything should happen to me, the girls would come to you.” Her voice broke and she turned away. “It’s too late to save our marriage, but it’s not too late to make sure the girls have a loving relationship with you.”

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