“We both know that the person you’re protecting is yourself. I know you loved Sallyanne. I know you grieved, and are still grieving, and I know it was complicated and messy. I understand why you’d want to protect yourself but you don’t need to, Lucas, because what we have is precious and I would never damage it.”
“But I might.”
“No.” She softened her voice because she understood what was going on in his head. “You wouldn’t do that, and deep down I think you know it, but you’re too scared to admit it.” Forcing her leaden legs to cross the room, she walked away from him toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“To pack.”
“You’re walking out?” His voice was raw. “You’re leaving?”
Only if you don’t stop me.
“What is there to stay for, Lucas? The job is finished. I’ve done what you paid me to do. There’s only one other reason to stay and you don’t want that.” She was halfway up the stairs when his voice stopped her again.
“Wait!”
Hope flickered inside her like a candle that had wavered in the wind but hadn’t quite been extinguished. She turned slowly, her heart racing.
“What?”
“Stay a little longer.”
“And then what?” When he didn’t answer, she started up the stairs again, weary to the bone. “There are a lot of things in this life I’m prepared to fight for. My friends, my job, my future, but I won’t fight for your heart, Lucas. If you can’t give it willingly, then I don’t want it.”
Nineteen
Treat life like a workout. Stay flexible.
—Frankie
Miserable, Eva walked along Fifth Avenue and felt another flutter of snow.
She tilted her face to the sky and closed her eyes.
On impulse she walked into St. Patrick’s Cathedral, an oasis of calm and peace in the busiest part of New York.
Her grandmother had brought her here many times, but it was the first time she’d been inside since her death.
Remembering was painful and she slid into one of the pews and sat quietly, admiring the stunning architecture and the stained-glass windows.
The choir was singing, their clear voices filling the soaring space.
A lump formed in her throat, so huge it prevented her from swallowing.
She’d been so sure he loved her, but he hadn’t actually said as much, had he? Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she’d let her hopes and dreams cloud reality.
She thought of all the things she’d learned since she’d been with him.
“You weren’t right about everything, Grams,” she murmured. “It’s good to be the sunshine, but sometimes it’s all right to be the rain, too. A good, balanced life needs both.”
Lucas had taught her that.
He was the first person she’d been totally open and honest with and that, as much as the sex, was what she was going to miss most.
She’d always thought the worst thing would be never to fall in love, but she’d discovered that far, far worse than that was falling in love with someone who didn’t want your love.
“Merry Christmas, Grams,” she whispered. “I miss you.”