“So she knew exactly what your job entailed when she married you.”
“Your point being?”
“She could hardly blame you for doing the job you’ve always done. She fell in love with you because of who you are. The job is part of who you are. Did she expect you to give it up?”
“No, but I think the reality was a bit more than she expected.”
“And you blamed yourself for that?”
“I worked long hours. Unpredictable hours. That’s a fact. I was unreliable. That’s a fact too. I missed dinner parties, journalist functions she wanted to take me to—she told me after one of our rows that the only thing she could depend on was that I wouldn’t be there for her if she needed me.”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have been there for her socially, but if she’d needed you in any other way you would have been there.”
“You seem very sure about that.”
“I am. You’re loyal to your friends and your family. I’ve seen it. And you prioritize. But your job is important. What you do is important. I don’t think you were the problem. I think the way you felt about each other was the problem. A relationship is like a jigsaw, isn’t it? The pieces have to fit together if it’s going to work.” And her parents’ relationship hadn’t worked. The pieces hadn’t fitted. She could see that so clearly now.
His arms tightened around her. “You know a lot considering you’ve never been in love.”
Until now. Harriet stared into the darkness, acknowledging the truth.
She loved Ethan.
It had happened gradually, without her even noticing. Maybe she’d fallen in love with him a little that day she’d first met him in the ER. Not because of the gentle way he’d examined her ankle, but because of the questions he’d asked. He’d been determined not to let her go before he’d satisfied himself that her injuries weren’t the result of any kind of abuse. That was the type of man he was. He was the type of man who would look after his sister’s dog even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. A man who was determined to make a difference in the world, and who would step in front of a friend even though doing so put his own life in danger. The type of man who made friendships that lasted a lifetime, and who could indulge the devil inside himself and ski a double black diamond run.
The type of man a woman could easily fall in love with.
Whenever she’d thought about it, and she’d thought about it often, she’d imagined love would be a gentle, comforting, enveloping feeling. Like bathing in warm water or being wrapped in a blanket. She hadn’t expected it to feel like this. Hadn’t expected the wild intoxication that felt as if she’d inhaled an illegal substance. It made her giddy. It made her want to smile at times where no smile was warranted. When she was feeding one of the dogs or occupied by some mundane task like peeling potatoes.
This wasn’t how she’d thought it would be. She’d gone on dates, hoping to find love, and had never expected to find it when she wasn’t looking. And yet that was what had happened. She’d fallen in love with him piece by piece, heartbeat by heartbeat. With each glance, each touch, each conversation, she’d slid deeper. She wasn’t sure if she felt ecstatic or terrified.
But she knew what his reaction would be.
He’d back off. Withdraw. Protect himself, and believe he was protecting her.
He’d end the relationship.
And she wasn’t ready for that. That, she thought, was a challenge too far.
So she said nothing. Simply lay in the dark with her secret, thinking of all those times she’d thought about falling in love and wondering why she’d ever thought it would be simple.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE WEEK FLEW PAST, in the way time always seemed to whenever something good was happening.
To Ethan’s surprise, and hers, Harriet turned out to be a natural skier.
Tyler commented that the yoga and Pilates had probably helped her balance and strengthened her core muscles, but Ethan thought it had more to do with the new determination she showed in everything she did.
In the relatively short time he’d known her, he’d seen a change in her. A big change.
She had a confidence now that had been lacking in the woman he’d first met in the emergency room. The woman who had stammered and fled from his apartment had been replaced by a woman who didn’t seem much inclined to flee from anything.
Now, instead of having to force herself to meet her daily challenge, she seemed to embrace it. Bring it on. It was as if all those days of doing the thing she found most hard had taught her that her limits didn’t lie where she’d originally thought. She’d stepped outside the walls she’d built for herself and discovered a whole new world.
He’d seen it that morning when Tyler had suggested she take the chair lift up the mountain and tackle a run that would have been beyond the scope of most beginners.
There had been a brief moment when she’d thought about it and then she’d nodded and stomped her way toward the lift in her rigid boots, carrying her skis.