Convincing Alex
Page 54
"No." He shook his head quickly. "It doesn't matter." What did matter was trust, and it was time he gave it. "I don't need to know. I just need her."
With a sigh, Lori fingered the square-cut diamond on her left hand. Bess had pushed her into taking the right step with Steven. She could only hope she was doing the same in return. "If you hurt her again, Alex—"
"I won't." Then he sighed. "I don't want to hurt her again, but I probably will."
She weakened, because it was exactly the thing a man in love would say. "I sent her home. She wasn't in any shape to work."
"Dyakuyu."
"What?"
"Thanks."
She hated feeling this way. The only way Bess could get from one day to the next was by telling herself it would get better. It had to get better.
But she didn't believe it.
She hadn't had the heart to throw out the lilacs. She'd tried to. She'd even stood holding them over the trash can, weeping like a fool. But the thought of parting with them had been too much. Now she tormented herself with the fragile scent whenever she came downstairs.
She thought about taking a trip—anywhere. She certainly had the vacation time coming, but it didn't seem fair to leave Lori in the lurch, especially since Lori had added wedding plans to her work load.
A lot of good she was doing Lori, or the show, this way, she thought. But the problem of the people in Millbrook seemed terribly petty when compared to hers. Too bad she couldn't write herself out of this one, she thought, as she stood in the kitchen, trying to talk herself into fixing something to eat.
Well, she'd certainly made the grade, Bess told herself, and pressed her fingers against her swollen eyes. She'd fallen in love and had her heart broken. Great research for the next troubled relationship she invented for the television audience.
The hell with food. She was going to go up to bed and will herself to sleep. Tomorrow she would find some way to put her life back together.
When she stepped out of the kitchen, what was left of her life shattered at her feet.
He was standing by the table, one hand brushing over the lilacs. All he did was look at her, turn his head and look, and she nearly crumpled to her knees.
"What are you doing here?" The pain made her voice razor-sharp.
"I still have my key." He lowered his hand slowly. Her eyes were still puffy from her last bout of tears, and there were smudges of fatigue under them. Nothing that had been said to him, nothing he'd said to himself, had lashed more sharply.
"You didn't have to bring it by." If composure was all she had left, she would cling to it. "You could have dropped it in the mail. But thanks." Her smile was so cold it hurt her jaw. "If that's all, I'm in a hurry. I was just on my way up to change before I go out."
"You can't look at me when you lie." He said it half to himself, remembering how her eyes had drifted away from his face when she said she didn't love him.
She forced her gaze back to his, held it steady. "What do you want, Alexi?"
"A great many things. Maybe too many things. But first, for you to forgive me."
Her face crumpled at that. She put a hand up to cover it, knowing it was too late. "Leave me alone."
"Milaya, let me—"
"Don't." She cringed away, crossing her arms over herself in self-defense, and his hands stopped an inch away. There was an odd catch in his breath as he drew them back and let them fall to his sides.
"I won't touch you." His voice was quiet and strained. "Please, let me say what I've come to say."
"What else could there be?" She turned away. "I know what you think of me. You made that clear."
"What I did was hurt you and make a fool of myself."
"Oh, yes, you hurt me." She was still trembling from it. "But not just that last time. You hurt me every time you pulled back when I needed to tell you how much I loved you. I thought, I won't let it matter, because he'll have to see it. God, he'll have to see it, because it's right there every time I look at him. Every time I think about him. And he loves me. He wants me. In my whole life, no one wanted me. Not really."
"Bess."
She jerked away from his hands. "My parents," she began, turning back. "How many times I heard them say to each other, 'Where did she come from?' As if I was some stray pet that had wandered in by mistake."
When she began to roam the room, her shoulders still hunched protectively, he said nothing. How could he tell her he was sorry he'd opened up old wounds, and sorry, as well, that it had taken that to have her reveal those smothered feelings to him?
"I handled it." Those stiff shoulders jerked as she tried to shrug it off. "What else could I do? It wasn't their fault, really. They've always been so perfect, in their way, and I could never be. Not for them. Not even for you."
"Do you think that's what I want?"
She glanced back then. The tears had dried up. There was no point in them. "I don't know what you want, Alexi. I only know it keeps circling around. I went from my parents into school. Those awful teenage years, when all the girls were so bright and pretty, and falling in and out of love. No one wanted me. Oh, I had friends. Somewhere along the line I'd learned that if you didn't try so hard, if you just relaxed and acted naturally, that there were a lot of people who'd like you for what you were. But there was never anyone to love. There has never been anybody to love until you."
"There's never going to be anyone else." He waited until she turned back. "I love you, Bess. Please, give me another chance."
"It won't work." She rubbed at her drying tears with the heel of her hand. "I thought it would, I wanted it to. I was so sure love would be enough. But it's not. Not without hope. Certainly not without faith."
The calm way she said it had panic streaking through him. "Do you want me to crawl?" He ignored her defensive retreat and gripped her arms. "Then I will. You're not going to push me out of your life because I was stupid, because I was afraid. I won't let you."
Was this how a man crawled? she wondered. With his eyes flashing fire and his voice booming? "And the next time you see me kissing an old friend?"
"I won't care." With a sound of disgust, he released her to stalk the room. "I will care. I'll kill the next one who touches you."
With a sigh, Lori fingered the square-cut diamond on her left hand. Bess had pushed her into taking the right step with Steven. She could only hope she was doing the same in return. "If you hurt her again, Alex—"
"I won't." Then he sighed. "I don't want to hurt her again, but I probably will."
She weakened, because it was exactly the thing a man in love would say. "I sent her home. She wasn't in any shape to work."
"Dyakuyu."
"What?"
"Thanks."
She hated feeling this way. The only way Bess could get from one day to the next was by telling herself it would get better. It had to get better.
But she didn't believe it.
She hadn't had the heart to throw out the lilacs. She'd tried to. She'd even stood holding them over the trash can, weeping like a fool. But the thought of parting with them had been too much. Now she tormented herself with the fragile scent whenever she came downstairs.
She thought about taking a trip—anywhere. She certainly had the vacation time coming, but it didn't seem fair to leave Lori in the lurch, especially since Lori had added wedding plans to her work load.
A lot of good she was doing Lori, or the show, this way, she thought. But the problem of the people in Millbrook seemed terribly petty when compared to hers. Too bad she couldn't write herself out of this one, she thought, as she stood in the kitchen, trying to talk herself into fixing something to eat.
Well, she'd certainly made the grade, Bess told herself, and pressed her fingers against her swollen eyes. She'd fallen in love and had her heart broken. Great research for the next troubled relationship she invented for the television audience.
The hell with food. She was going to go up to bed and will herself to sleep. Tomorrow she would find some way to put her life back together.
When she stepped out of the kitchen, what was left of her life shattered at her feet.
He was standing by the table, one hand brushing over the lilacs. All he did was look at her, turn his head and look, and she nearly crumpled to her knees.
"What are you doing here?" The pain made her voice razor-sharp.
"I still have my key." He lowered his hand slowly. Her eyes were still puffy from her last bout of tears, and there were smudges of fatigue under them. Nothing that had been said to him, nothing he'd said to himself, had lashed more sharply.
"You didn't have to bring it by." If composure was all she had left, she would cling to it. "You could have dropped it in the mail. But thanks." Her smile was so cold it hurt her jaw. "If that's all, I'm in a hurry. I was just on my way up to change before I go out."
"You can't look at me when you lie." He said it half to himself, remembering how her eyes had drifted away from his face when she said she didn't love him.
She forced her gaze back to his, held it steady. "What do you want, Alexi?"
"A great many things. Maybe too many things. But first, for you to forgive me."
Her face crumpled at that. She put a hand up to cover it, knowing it was too late. "Leave me alone."
"Milaya, let me—"
"Don't." She cringed away, crossing her arms over herself in self-defense, and his hands stopped an inch away. There was an odd catch in his breath as he drew them back and let them fall to his sides.
"I won't touch you." His voice was quiet and strained. "Please, let me say what I've come to say."
"What else could there be?" She turned away. "I know what you think of me. You made that clear."
"What I did was hurt you and make a fool of myself."
"Oh, yes, you hurt me." She was still trembling from it. "But not just that last time. You hurt me every time you pulled back when I needed to tell you how much I loved you. I thought, I won't let it matter, because he'll have to see it. God, he'll have to see it, because it's right there every time I look at him. Every time I think about him. And he loves me. He wants me. In my whole life, no one wanted me. Not really."
"Bess."
She jerked away from his hands. "My parents," she began, turning back. "How many times I heard them say to each other, 'Where did she come from?' As if I was some stray pet that had wandered in by mistake."
When she began to roam the room, her shoulders still hunched protectively, he said nothing. How could he tell her he was sorry he'd opened up old wounds, and sorry, as well, that it had taken that to have her reveal those smothered feelings to him?
"I handled it." Those stiff shoulders jerked as she tried to shrug it off. "What else could I do? It wasn't their fault, really. They've always been so perfect, in their way, and I could never be. Not for them. Not even for you."
"Do you think that's what I want?"
She glanced back then. The tears had dried up. There was no point in them. "I don't know what you want, Alexi. I only know it keeps circling around. I went from my parents into school. Those awful teenage years, when all the girls were so bright and pretty, and falling in and out of love. No one wanted me. Oh, I had friends. Somewhere along the line I'd learned that if you didn't try so hard, if you just relaxed and acted naturally, that there were a lot of people who'd like you for what you were. But there was never anyone to love. There has never been anybody to love until you."
"There's never going to be anyone else." He waited until she turned back. "I love you, Bess. Please, give me another chance."
"It won't work." She rubbed at her drying tears with the heel of her hand. "I thought it would, I wanted it to. I was so sure love would be enough. But it's not. Not without hope. Certainly not without faith."
The calm way she said it had panic streaking through him. "Do you want me to crawl?" He ignored her defensive retreat and gripped her arms. "Then I will. You're not going to push me out of your life because I was stupid, because I was afraid. I won't let you."
Was this how a man crawled? she wondered. With his eyes flashing fire and his voice booming? "And the next time you see me kissing an old friend?"
"I won't care." With a sound of disgust, he released her to stalk the room. "I will care. I'll kill the next one who touches you."
