As if from a distance, she heard herself dumbly repeat, “Dane met Cris today?” “Yes,” her mother bit out. “But he couldn’t . . .” Jemma couldn’t believe he would. Not Dane. Not after what had transpired between them last night. Then again, what had happened? Had he actually promised to refuse to meet Cris? Or had she been so involved in her own turbulent emotions that she had failed her brother? “I suppose now we know you weren’t so special to him.” Her mother’s sharp sarcasm interrupted her thoughts. Jemma doubled her hands into fists and squeezed tight. It was either that or break down completely and behave like a madwoman. She could have attacked her mother for her callous words. Or herself, for being so gullible. Again! When would she learn? Once more she had been a pawn for her family. Worse, she had believed Dane cared for her, that he had some feeling for her. With blinding clarity, she realized that all she’d ever wanted in her life was to be loved. First, by her parents.
