All or Nothing at All
Page 32
His teasing words caused a flush to rise to her cheeks. Thank goodness it was dark so he couldn’t see it. She took her glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and busied herself with taking a few sips. The rich flavors of earth and blackberry and heavy tannins coated her tongue. So good. He knew how to pick the best reds; he shipped his favorite vintages direct from France.
“Just thinking about how bad I want to dance.” The horrified expression on his face made her laugh out loud. “Are you telling me you didn’t bring back some wicked moves from the city you want to show me?”
He sipped his wine and shuddered. “Dancing is the most unnatural thing for a man to do. Flailing around like an idiot to impress a girl.” His gaze crashed with hers. “There are better ways.”
Her belly dropped to her toes, but she ignored it. “It’s a sign of being willing to compromise,” she pointed out. “We already know the majority of men are uncomfortable on the dance floor. But the ones willing to look like an idiot to impress a girl may stick around longer than one night.”
“Ouch. Are you mad because I never danced with you?”
She sighed. Memories stirred. “I never asked. We were still sneaking around a lot.”
“Cal and Dalton eventually knew. I think Mom did, too, but she never challenged me on it. I felt like I was living out the theme of don’t ask, don’t tell.” He traced the rim of his glass with the tip of his index finger. “It wasn’t fair to you. Hiding our relationship for so long. Meeting after hours and at the marina and in the woods. I’m sorry, Syd. I hope I never treated you like you didn’t matter. Because you did.”
Her throat closed up. The music pounded in the background, and a rowdy group of men at the bar were calling out for shots. But right here, right now, it was as if they were completely alone, caught up in a protected bubble. This was the first time he’d ever brought up their relationship. The end had been so spectacularly bad, she’d figured they’d never be able to discuss the in-between.
“I don’t think it would’ve worked as long if we weren’t keeping it a secret,” she said honestly. “Between work and your family and the age difference, we were able to protect what we had from the outside world. I don’t blame you for that, Tristan. I never did.”
His other hand slid across the table. His fingers brushed hers, then withdrew an inch. The space between them seemed endless. The space between them seemed nonexistent.
“It all blew up on us, didn’t it?” he asked softly. “After Mom died, my family splintered. I felt as if there was no real foundation anymore, and getting out of Harrington meant everything.” He shook his head, trapped in the past. “I was so mad you wouldn’t just come with me. It was easy for me to think like that, you know. I was caught up in my own shit, and when you said no, something broke.”
The cold lump in her stomach tightened. They’d gone straight from idyllic affair to fighting nonstop. The slide down had been just as spectacular as the slide into intimacy—all consuming, overwhelming, and scary as hell. “My grandmother just got back from the hospital, remember? I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
“I remember.”
“But that was an excuse, too. I was afraid to leave Harrington, Tristan. I didn’t have your crazy desire to see the world or make my own way somewhere else. I always knew this was my home, and I stopped apologizing for not wanting to leave it.”
He flinched, his face tight from her confession. How long had she held in her feelings, never having the opportunity to really talk to the man she once loved so wholeheartedly? Yes, it was dangerous, but long past due. Seeing him really listen to her and understand eased some of the rawness she’d kept hidden inside.
The words trembled on her lips, refusing to be held back any longer. “There was something else that kept me from going with you,” she whispered.
He leaned forward, studying her face with intensity. “Tell me.”
“You never said it.”
He frowned. “Said what?”
“Said you loved me. I told you, but you never repeated the words back. How was I supposed to take such a leap with you when you gave me nothing?”
He jerked. Wine splashed over the rim of his glass. She watched as pure grief carved out the lines of his face. He didn’t speak for a long time, seemingly caught up in the pain of the past. “No, I didn’t. I felt it. But after Mom died, I became almost like a ghost. You were the only thing that made me feel again, and as much as I needed you, I was scared shitless. I wasn’t ready to admit such things when my life was falling apart. It was easier to blame you, or fight with you, rather than love you.” Regret flickered in his golden eyes. “It was easier to leave.”
Her heart cracked open and bled clean. It was the answer she’d always needed to hear when she lay in bed, going over and over that night he’d walked away and everything had ended. “Yes. It was easier for both of us, I guess.”
The sounds of the music pounded around them. People laughed. Glasses clinked. Couples danced.
“But I came back.”
She dropped her gaze, terrified to let him see her face. “It was too late,” she managed to say.
“Three months. Only three months until I realized I wasn’t whole without you. I came back to ask you one more time to come with me, and you were getting married. You’d already moved on.”
Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. Not now. She thought it would help, but the past swallowed her whole, and she fought madly to free herself from the strings of her greatest omission. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think we’ve had enough of going down memory lane, don’t you?”
“I have one more question. Something that’s been bothering me for a very long time.”
Fear cut through her. No. No, no, no. “I think it’s time we go. I should get home.” Breaking eye contact, she finished her wine and swiveled around in her chair, ready to flee.
“You were divorced after a year and a half. Why, Syd?”
She froze. The question hung in the air, ripe with meaning and hidden inflections. Oh, God, she couldn’t do this now. Her shaking hands clutched her purse. Some of the past should never be dredged up again. There were too many secrets threatening to rip everyone apart like the Walking Dead zombies.
“I have to go,” she said again.
“Just thinking about how bad I want to dance.” The horrified expression on his face made her laugh out loud. “Are you telling me you didn’t bring back some wicked moves from the city you want to show me?”
He sipped his wine and shuddered. “Dancing is the most unnatural thing for a man to do. Flailing around like an idiot to impress a girl.” His gaze crashed with hers. “There are better ways.”
Her belly dropped to her toes, but she ignored it. “It’s a sign of being willing to compromise,” she pointed out. “We already know the majority of men are uncomfortable on the dance floor. But the ones willing to look like an idiot to impress a girl may stick around longer than one night.”
“Ouch. Are you mad because I never danced with you?”
She sighed. Memories stirred. “I never asked. We were still sneaking around a lot.”
“Cal and Dalton eventually knew. I think Mom did, too, but she never challenged me on it. I felt like I was living out the theme of don’t ask, don’t tell.” He traced the rim of his glass with the tip of his index finger. “It wasn’t fair to you. Hiding our relationship for so long. Meeting after hours and at the marina and in the woods. I’m sorry, Syd. I hope I never treated you like you didn’t matter. Because you did.”
Her throat closed up. The music pounded in the background, and a rowdy group of men at the bar were calling out for shots. But right here, right now, it was as if they were completely alone, caught up in a protected bubble. This was the first time he’d ever brought up their relationship. The end had been so spectacularly bad, she’d figured they’d never be able to discuss the in-between.
“I don’t think it would’ve worked as long if we weren’t keeping it a secret,” she said honestly. “Between work and your family and the age difference, we were able to protect what we had from the outside world. I don’t blame you for that, Tristan. I never did.”
His other hand slid across the table. His fingers brushed hers, then withdrew an inch. The space between them seemed endless. The space between them seemed nonexistent.
“It all blew up on us, didn’t it?” he asked softly. “After Mom died, my family splintered. I felt as if there was no real foundation anymore, and getting out of Harrington meant everything.” He shook his head, trapped in the past. “I was so mad you wouldn’t just come with me. It was easy for me to think like that, you know. I was caught up in my own shit, and when you said no, something broke.”
The cold lump in her stomach tightened. They’d gone straight from idyllic affair to fighting nonstop. The slide down had been just as spectacular as the slide into intimacy—all consuming, overwhelming, and scary as hell. “My grandmother just got back from the hospital, remember? I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
“I remember.”
“But that was an excuse, too. I was afraid to leave Harrington, Tristan. I didn’t have your crazy desire to see the world or make my own way somewhere else. I always knew this was my home, and I stopped apologizing for not wanting to leave it.”
He flinched, his face tight from her confession. How long had she held in her feelings, never having the opportunity to really talk to the man she once loved so wholeheartedly? Yes, it was dangerous, but long past due. Seeing him really listen to her and understand eased some of the rawness she’d kept hidden inside.
The words trembled on her lips, refusing to be held back any longer. “There was something else that kept me from going with you,” she whispered.
He leaned forward, studying her face with intensity. “Tell me.”
“You never said it.”
He frowned. “Said what?”
“Said you loved me. I told you, but you never repeated the words back. How was I supposed to take such a leap with you when you gave me nothing?”
He jerked. Wine splashed over the rim of his glass. She watched as pure grief carved out the lines of his face. He didn’t speak for a long time, seemingly caught up in the pain of the past. “No, I didn’t. I felt it. But after Mom died, I became almost like a ghost. You were the only thing that made me feel again, and as much as I needed you, I was scared shitless. I wasn’t ready to admit such things when my life was falling apart. It was easier to blame you, or fight with you, rather than love you.” Regret flickered in his golden eyes. “It was easier to leave.”
Her heart cracked open and bled clean. It was the answer she’d always needed to hear when she lay in bed, going over and over that night he’d walked away and everything had ended. “Yes. It was easier for both of us, I guess.”
The sounds of the music pounded around them. People laughed. Glasses clinked. Couples danced.
“But I came back.”
She dropped her gaze, terrified to let him see her face. “It was too late,” she managed to say.
“Three months. Only three months until I realized I wasn’t whole without you. I came back to ask you one more time to come with me, and you were getting married. You’d already moved on.”
Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. Not now. She thought it would help, but the past swallowed her whole, and she fought madly to free herself from the strings of her greatest omission. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think we’ve had enough of going down memory lane, don’t you?”
“I have one more question. Something that’s been bothering me for a very long time.”
Fear cut through her. No. No, no, no. “I think it’s time we go. I should get home.” Breaking eye contact, she finished her wine and swiveled around in her chair, ready to flee.
“You were divorced after a year and a half. Why, Syd?”
She froze. The question hung in the air, ripe with meaning and hidden inflections. Oh, God, she couldn’t do this now. Her shaking hands clutched her purse. Some of the past should never be dredged up again. There were too many secrets threatening to rip everyone apart like the Walking Dead zombies.
“I have to go,” she said again.
