So tell him the truth.
She finished off her piece of pizza and reached for a paper napkin. ‘If you want to know the truth, I’m afraid of enjoying it too much.’
‘Why?’
She couldn’t look at him. ‘In case I do something stupid and it’s taken away from me again.’
He was silent for a couple of beats. ‘You’re talking about prison?’
She nodded.
‘Is there any reason to believe you’ll end up back there?’
Not if she remained vigilant.
‘I find it hard to take my liberty for granted.’ She grimaced. ‘You don’t understand how much you take it for granted until it’s taken away. Prison is a punishment—it’s supposed to be unpleasant. The thought of messing up and ending up back in there...’ She shivered. ‘So sometimes I find myself lost in a moment of enjoyment and then I remember jail and I wonder... I wonder how I could cope if I found myself back there again.’
He leaned towards her, drenching the air with a hint of smoky nutmeg. It mingled with the scents of ocean and pizza and she couldn’t recall relishing anything more in her life. She wanted to close her eyes and memorise that scent, so she could pull it out and appreciate it whenever she needed to.
‘Mia, you’re a different person now. You won’t make the same mistakes again.’
She wasn’t convinced—especially on that last point. ‘I think you need to know my story.’
‘I’d like to know it very much.’
‘It’s sordid,’ she warned.
She couldn’t make this pretty for him, no matter how much she might want to. He just shrugged, his eyes not leaving her face. It made her mouth dry.
‘Have you really not looked me up?’ There’d be newspaper articles and court reports he could access.
‘I wanted to hear the story from you—not from some so-called factual report that leaves out the truly relevant facts.’
She had a feeling that should have surprised her, but it didn’t. She glanced down at her hands. ‘I think I mentioned that my father was a...a difficult man.’
‘Emotionally abusive to your mother?’
She nodded, fighting the weariness that wanted to claim her. ‘When I was sixteen I finally stood up to him.’
‘What happened?’
‘He gave me a black eye and kicked me out.’
Dylan’s hands fisted.
‘I found temporary shelter in a homeless refuge and got work waitressing.’
‘School?’
‘I couldn’t manage school and work.’ She blew out a breath. ‘That’s something prison did give me—the opportunity to finish my high school education. It’s my high school diploma that made me eligible for the traineeship at Plum Pines.’
‘Right.’
She couldn’t tell what he was thinking so she simply pushed on. ‘When I was eighteen I met a man—Johnnie Peters. He was twenty-five and I thought him so worldly. I’d had a couple of boyfriends, you understand, but nothing serious.’
‘Until Johnnie?’
‘Until Johnnie...’ She swallowed the lump that threatened her throat. It settled in her chest to ache with a dull throb. ‘He swept me off my feet. I fell hopelessly in love with him.’
A muscle in Dylan’s jaw worked. ‘Would I be right in suspecting he didn’t deserve you?’
She could feel her lips twist. It took all her strength to maintain eye contact with Dylan. ‘The key word in my previous sentence was hopelessly.’ She stared back out to sea. ‘I had a lot of counselling when I was in jail. I understand now that there are men out there who target foolish, naïve girls. Which is exactly what I was.’
He reached out to squeeze her hand. ‘You were young.’
She pulled her hand from his. ‘When something looks too good to be true, it usually is. I knew that then, but I ignored it. He made me feel special, and I wanted to be special.’ She gripped her hands together. ‘He organised a new job for me—nine to five—where I was trained in office administration. It seemed like a step up. I was ridiculously grateful not to be on my feet all day, like I had been when waitressing.’
When she’d been in prison she’d longed for that waitressing job—aching legs and all. She should have been grateful for what she’d had. Content.
‘He moved me into his lovely house and bought me beautiful clothes. He was a stockbroker, and I thought he could have his pick of women. I felt I was the luckiest girl alive.’
‘He cut you off from your family and friends...controlled your finances?’
‘My family had already cut me off, but...yes.’ That was something she’d come to realise during sessions with her counsellor. ‘Things seemed perfect for a couple of years. What I didn’t realise was that he had a gambling problem.’
‘What happened?’ he prompted when she remained silent.
‘He started asking me to deposit cheques into accounts that weren’t in my name and then to withdraw the funds.’
‘You gave all the money to him?’
‘I gave him everything.’ She’d been an idiot. ‘Of course it was only a matter of time before I was traced on CCTV.’
‘And Johnnie?’
‘He was cleverer than I. He was never seen in the vicinity of any of the banks at the time, and he denied all knowledge.’
His mouth grew taut. ‘The scumbag fed you to the wolves.’
She turned to him, the ache in her chest growing fierce. ‘He was even smarter than that, Dylan. He convinced me to feed myself to the wolves. I told the police he was innocent.’
Anger flared in his eyes. ‘How long did it take you to realise what he was?’
Her stomach churned. She’d told herself it would be better for Dylan to despise her than it would be for him to love her. A part of her died inside anyway.
‘About four months into my sentence...when he hadn’t been to see me...when he stopped answering my letters.’
‘Then you turned him in to the authorities?’
She shook her head.
‘You continued to let him walk all over you?’
She stiffened at the censure in his voice. ‘Three things, Dylan. One—I had no proof. Especially not after the testimony I’d given in his favour. Any testimony to the contrary would’ve simply been written off as the ravings of a disaffected lover. Two—I needed to draw a line under that part of my life and move forward. And three—I deserved my punishment. Nothing was ever going to change that.’
‘He manipulated you!’
‘And I let him. I knew what I was doing was wrong. The first time I cashed a cheque he told me it was for his elderly aunt. The second time he said it was a favour for a work colleague. The third time he just asked me to do it for him, said that he was in trouble. I knew then that I was breaking the law, but I did it anyway. He never physically threatened me. I just did it.’
‘But I bet the emotional threat of him breaking up with you hung over every request?’
It had. And she hadn’t been able to face the thought of losing him. Talk about pathetic! ‘I told you it was sordid.’
‘Three years seems