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He raised an eyebrow. "Did I say you should?"
"You're very good at the subtle implication."
He laughed at that. "No one has ever called me subtle."
She couldn't help but respond to the sexy grin that spread across his
face. On the surface he was such a dark man, in features and in
expression. But when the smile broke out, his whole face changed,
softened, and was incredibly appealing. He wasn't for her, she told
herself firmly. And she wasn't right for him. He was a man who needed
love and family in his future to make up for all he'd missed out on in
his past,
and she was concentrating on her work now, leaving love
behind and everything that went with it.
"I'm leaving now," she said.
"You said that before, but you haven't quite reached the door."
Caitlyn deliberately walked over to the door and opened it. "Better?"
"No." His dark gaze held hers in a connection that was far too strong.
He wasn't touching her, but he
was pulling her in all the same,
something in him calling out to something in her. It was more than
attraction, more than simple desire, more like a deep aching need, and
it scared her. How could she suddenly fee! so much for someone she had
just met? Someone who was completely wrong for her in
so many
ways? Was it just chemistry? Hormones? Or something more? She'd been
touched by his
story. Maybe that was it. She felt sorry for him.
But no, that didn't ring true either; Matt wasn't a man to feel sorry
for. He'd pulled himself up out of the gutter and made something
wonderful. He was smart, handsome, funny, sexy. No, she didn't feel
pity, not one little bit. She only wished she did. That would be a much
easier emotion to deal with.
"'Caitlyn?" His voice held the same question.
"I have to go," she said softly. "Let me."
His gaze didn't waver for a long, searching moment. "Sure, go. I'll see
you around sometime."
She grabbed on to his casual note as if it were a lifeline. "Yeah, I'll
see you around."
As she opened the door and stepped into the hallway she saw a man get
off the elevator. Her first instinct was to hide, and she dashed back
into Matt's apartment just as her name rang through the hall.
Dear Lord, it couldn't be Brian, not now, not at this moment, when she
was already feeling confused.
But she could hear his steps moving
impatiently down the hall. That was Brian, impatient, purposeful,
and
apparently back in town.
"What's going on?" Matt asked.
Caitlyn couldn't answer. She wasn't ready to see Brian. She'd sent him
away eighteen months ago, but now if seemed like only a minute had
passed. "I—I..." She turned her head as Brian called her name
once
again. Obviously he'd seen her dash into Matt's apartment. Darn.
"I think someone is looking for you," Matt said. When she didn't move,
he walked over and opened the door.
Brian stood in the hallway looking confused.
"Caitlyn?"
Both men said her name at exactly the same time. Caitlyn was caught
between them, foolishly wishing Emily might cry and distract Matt at
least, but the baby was still cradled in Matt's arms, blissfully
sucking on her bottle.
"Hello, Brian," she said, finally looking into the face of the man she
had once hoped to marry. He hadn't changed at all, still tall and lean,
sandy brown hair cut just above his collar, and a neat beard to match.
He wore tan trousers and a cream-colored sweater vest over a knit
shirt, looking very much like the intellectual he was.
"Caitlyn," he said again. "I hope this isn't a bad time."
"You might have called first."
"I did call." He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. "When you
didn't call me back, I thought I'd come over. Your mother said you'd
made some changes in your life."
"I—I have," she replied.
Brian's gaze drifted to Matt, who was unabashedly listening to their
conversation. Suddenly, he turned pale, a disbelieving light coining
into his eyes as he looked back to her. "My God, Cait, is he the change
your mother was talking about? And is that—is that your baby?"
could he think that she could
have gone from him to another man so
quickly and had a baby ... it was unbelievable, unthinkable.
"How could you even ask me that?" she demanded. "Do you remember what I
looked like when you
left? Do you?"
Brian stared back at her for a long minute. "Sorry," he muttered,
pressing a hand to his temple as if he had a throbbing headache. "I
don't usually jump to conclusions. I just don't know what to think."
"This is my neighbor, Matt Winters," she said tightly. "And his niece,
Emily. This is Brian Hastings."
Matt looked at them both with a speculative gleam in his eyes. His
reporter instincts obviously sensed
a story, but Caitlyn had no
intention of sharing this one with him.
"Nice to meet you," Brian said.
"Yeah," Matt replied.
"Can we talk, Caitlyn?" Brian asked. "In private?"
Oh, how she'd love to say no, that she was too busy right now, that it
would have to wait until tomorrow or next week or next year, because
she still didn't know what to say. Unfortunately, she didn't think she
could put him off. He had that look in his eyes, the one he wore when
he was determined to find the correct answer.
"All right." She walked across the hall and opened the door to her
apartment. As Brian walked inside,
she glanced back at Matt. "I can see
why you don't like nosy neighbors."
"Who is that guy?"
"None of your business."
"Do you want me to stick around?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? A minute ago you looked like you wanted to find a dark
hole to hide in."
"I'm okay." And with that, she took a deep breath and shut the door,
leaving her with one problem
instead of two.
Brian stood in the middle of her apartment, looking dazed by the
feminine surroundings and bridal accessories. '"Well," he said. "It's
different."
"I've been swamped with alterations," she explained. "This is the big
wedding season. Everyone wants to be a June bride." She cleared her
throat, wondering why she was talking about weddings with her former
fiance.
"Why didn't you stay with your parents? I thought it was easier for you
to concentrate on business when you lived there."
"I'm twenty-eight, a little old to be living with my parents." She
could have told him that after the accident it wasn't just physical
space she had craved, but emotional space as well. But that would only
open up the can of worms called their past that much sooner.
Brian didn't seem to know what to say.
During the ensuing quiet, Caitlyn looked at him, really looked at him
for the first time, and saw the familiar features, the errant curl by
his ear, the shoulders upon which she had once rested her head, the
arms that had held her so close. It was good to see him. It was
disturbing, too. It had been far easier to keep her emotions at bay
when he was living on the other side of the country.
Brian looked back at her with the same curiosity in his eyes, but there
was a wariness there as well, a cautiousness that she didn't remember
being a part of his personality, at least not with her. He'd always
been the take-charge one in their relationship, so smart about
everything, so certain of what they should and shouldn't do that it had
seemed natural to follow his lead. But that had been before the
accident, and she'd changed in so many ways since then.
"So," he continued. "My fellowship ended last week. I must say it's
good to be home."
She nodded. "The time went quickly."
"In some ways. You look wonderful, Caitlyn." He offered her a tentative
smile. "Not even a limp?"
"Only when it rains or when I'm tired,"
"That's good to hear."
Another uncomfortable silence fell between them. Brian shifted his
feet. Caitlyn glanced around the room, wondering what to do next. If
he'd called first, she could have gotten herself together, but as it
was, she was rattled at seeing him again and she didn't know what to
say. Finally, she came up with, "Are you planning to stay in San
Francisco?"
He looked surprised by her question. "Yes, of course. This is my home.
I've already submitted my resume to several universities. I'm hoping to
work with your parents, but that remains to be seen."
"They'd love that."
"What about you? How would you feel?"
"I'd be happy for you. It's what you've wanted, what they've wanted."
"Caitlyn.. ." he started, then stopped, then began again. "What's going
on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know where we stand. I don't know why you didn't call or
write."
"You didn't call or write either."
"I did in the beginning."
"One letter."
"One letter that you didn't answer. I knew then you were angry. Why did
you tell me to go if you didn't want me to go?"
"Because you wanted to go," she said simply, the words coming to her so
quickly they slid right out of
her mouth.
"That's true. I did want to accept the fellowship. But I didn't
understand the choice was the fellowship or you. By the time I came to
that realization it was too late to back out. I just hoped that once
you were recovered and I was home we could work things out. That's why
I'm here now." He sighed, his face
filled with confusion. "I seem to
continually get into trouble for taking a woman's words at face value.
You said to go, but what you were really saying is if you go, it's all
over."
He was right. She had sent him mixed signals. She'd told him to go when
deep down inside she'd wanted him to stay, to tell her she was the most
important thing in the world to him.
Or maybe that wasn't even the whole truth. Sending him away had gone
hand in hand with sending away so many other troubling emotions.
"Besides the fact that I left, I think you blamed me for the accident,"
Brian continued when she didn't reply.
She shook her head. "That's not true. I didn't blame you."
"You weren't ready for that ski run. I pushed you into it."
He had pushed, but she'd gone along, pretending to be someone she
wasn't, someone he would love more, someone as in tune with nature as
he was. She'd seen the need in his eyes and, as always, had wanted to
fill it. But she'd fallen hopelessly short. In fact, she'd fallen
halfway down a mountain. They'd spent Christmas in the hospital,
instead of by a hot fire in a beautiful lodge the way they'd planned.
And after the immediate crisis of saving her life had passed, she'd
been transferred to another hospital in San Francisco, sent home to
spend the weeks and months recuperating from her injuries.
"Well, I blame myself," Brian said heavily. "And my life hasn't been
the same without you in it. I would very much like another chance with
you, Caitlyn. What do you say?"
What did she say? A million words came to mind, but they were so
cluttered and disorganized she couldn't gel a single one past her lips.
"Are you with someone else? Is that why you're hesitating?"
She wanted to say yes, she was with someone else; then he'd go away
again and take the rest of the
stuff she didn't want to deal with away
with him. But she couldn't lie. "I'm not seeing anyone else."
His blue eyes lightened. "Will you let me take you to dinner?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. I have so much work to do."
"You have to eat."
Right now she felt more like throwing up. The turmoil of seeing him
again, of being taken back to a
place she'd never wanted to revisit,
had completely unsettled her.
Brian had no real idea of what she'd gone through that year. She'd made
her noble gesture, and he'd grabbed it, disappearing through the
hospital doors before she had a second to have second thoughts. Now he
was back, asking her to dinner as if nothing had happened between them,
and yet everything
had happened.
"I don't think we can go back to the way we were," she said slowly.
"We could try."
"Why? Because I'm healthy now?" she asked.
"And because now I can be here for you all the time. I want a chance to
make things right again."
"I doubt that's possible." She paused, gathering her courage. "It
wasn't just your leaving that split us
apart. I heard you, Brian. I
heard you that night when I was waking up from surgery."
"Heard what?"
"You said I was—I was damaged beyond belief," she whispered, barely
able to get the sentence out.
His mouth dropped open. "My God, Caitlyn. I never meant for you to hear
that. I was shaken. I didn't know what I was saying. I was horrified by
how badly hurt you were."
"You were right. I was damaged, Brian." She took a breath and
continued. "I'm still damaged. Maybe
you can't see the scars, but that
doesn't mean they're not there."
"Let me make it up to you. Let me prove to you that I'm not as selfish
or as heartless as I must have appeared to be when I left you behind."
She saw the sincerity in his eyes and weakened. "I don't know."
"Think about it. Think about all of it. Remember what we were to each
other. How we felt."
"Don't you understand, Brian? The last thing I want to do is remember
the days I have tried so hard to forget. I spent a lot of time in a lot
of pain." She walked over to the door and held it open. "I think you
should go."
Brian hesitated, then walked slowly toward her. "I'll go for now, but
I'm not giving up on you, or on us." He ran a finger down the side of
her cheek in a familiar caress. "I want the future we planned, you and
me together, a family. It's what you wanted, too, and I can't believe
that you could change that much."
A gleam of triumph lit up his eyes as
she couldn't deny his words. "I'll see you at brunch tomorrow.
Your
parents invited me over."
Her heart sank. "Brian, this is too fast. You're gone . . . now you're
back. I can't change channels that quickly. I'm different now. So are
you. We have lives that haven't included each other for a while."
"Then we'll get to know each other again. I'm not giving up, Caitlyn.
You told me to go before, and I believed you, so I went. But I learned
my lesson. This time, no matter what you say, I'm staying,
because I
think that's really what you want."
And as she shut the door behind him, Caitlyn had the terrible feeling
she'd created a monster. She
needed to learn how to say what she meant
and mean what she said. But she was feeling as confused
and conflicted
now as she'd felt eighteen months ago.
At one point in her life she'd been certain she could stand by Brian
for all time. She'd been prepared to take vows to that effect. What
kind of a woman was she now to not even consider giving their
relationship another chance when she'd once invested so much of herself
in it? Didn't she
owe him something? Didn't he owe her? Or would they both be better off
by calling it even and calling it over?
If only the answers would come
as easily as the questions.
Matt heard Caitlyn's door close and had to resist the impulse to look
through the peephole. Caitlyn and her Abe Lincoln boyfriend were none
of his business. He certainly wasn't surprised that she'd hooked
up
with some bearded intellectual type. He probably read her poetry and
took her to museums.
Although . .. Caitlyn hadn't looked that happy to see him, and the fact
that the guy had jumped to a big conclusion about Caitlyn and himself
made Matt suspect they'd had a breakup of some sort.
Damn! Why was he thinking about Caitlyn again? He needed to concentrate
on Sarah, on trying to figure out where she might have gone and how he
would find her. It was unbelievable how many searches he'd conducted
over the years, always coming up empty. Even with all his resources,
he'd struck out. But Sarah had somehow found him and decided to leave
her baby with him. It still blew his mind. How did Sarah know she could
trust him? He could have been anybody now. So could she. That's what
worried him the most, that Sarah could have inherited their mother's
genes. He wanted to believe she was coming back. But he'd been wrong
before.
Restless again, Matt stood up. It was too quiet. He almost wished Emily
was still awake, but she'd finally dropped off to sleep after he'd made
her comfortable in the middle of his king-size bed, placing cushions
all around her to keep her from rolling about. He'd put her on her side
and hoped that was right, but that hadn't stopped him from checking on
her every few minutes. He didn't know how he would sleep
tonight. Who would watch her when he was asleep? The responsibility of
parenting suddenly overwhelmed him.
What would he do with Emily if Sarah didn't come back? Could he really
be a father?
He shook his head, knowing he couldn't think about that right now. One
step at a time. Matt just wished the damn phone would ring, or a knock
would come at his door and Sarah would magically appear. He glared at
the phone, which remained ominously silent.
But in the quiet came the sound of another door closing—Caitlyn's. Matt
didn't stop to think before he moved, so desperate was he for a
lifeline. He was in the hall before she'd gotten halfway to the
elevator.
"Caitlyn," he called out.
She stopped and turned slowly, as if she wished she'd been able to
escape. "What?"
"Where are you going?"
"Is it any of your business?"
"Tell me anyway."
She sighed and pointed to her running shoes. It was then he realized
she'd changed into a mint-green jogging suit that was the color of his
favorite ice cream. "I need to get out."
"It's after eight—it's dark out there."
"And your point would be .. ."
"That you shouldn't be running alone after dark."
"I'll be fine. I need some air. And I can't stand all the tension in my
body."
He had a hunch he knew who was the cause of that tension. "I have an
idea."
"No, I do not want to hold Emily."
"That wasn't what I was going to say."
She sent him a suspicious look.
"Two words. Punching bag."
She stared at him for a long moment. "You're talking about that thing
you have hanging in the corner
of your living room?"
"Exactly. It's great at relieving tension. Frankly, you look like you
could throw a few good punches
right now."
"I don't know how to box."
"I thought you'd taken self-defense."
"My mother signed me up," Caitlyn admitted. "She was determined I
should know how to defend myself before I was allowed to go on a date.
I spent most of the time in the bathroom. The guy in the pads scared
me."
"You're very good at the subtle implication."
He laughed at that. "No one has ever called me subtle."
She couldn't help but respond to the sexy grin that spread across his
face. On the surface he was such a dark man, in features and in
expression. But when the smile broke out, his whole face changed,
softened, and was incredibly appealing. He wasn't for her, she told
herself firmly. And she wasn't right for him. He was a man who needed
love and family in his future to make up for all he'd missed out on in
his past,
and she was concentrating on her work now, leaving love
behind and everything that went with it.
"I'm leaving now," she said.
"You said that before, but you haven't quite reached the door."
Caitlyn deliberately walked over to the door and opened it. "Better?"
"No." His dark gaze held hers in a connection that was far too strong.
He wasn't touching her, but he
was pulling her in all the same,
something in him calling out to something in her. It was more than
attraction, more than simple desire, more like a deep aching need, and
it scared her. How could she suddenly fee! so much for someone she had
just met? Someone who was completely wrong for her in
so many
ways? Was it just chemistry? Hormones? Or something more? She'd been
touched by his
story. Maybe that was it. She felt sorry for him.
But no, that didn't ring true either; Matt wasn't a man to feel sorry
for. He'd pulled himself up out of the gutter and made something
wonderful. He was smart, handsome, funny, sexy. No, she didn't feel
pity, not one little bit. She only wished she did. That would be a much
easier emotion to deal with.
"'Caitlyn?" His voice held the same question.
"I have to go," she said softly. "Let me."
His gaze didn't waver for a long, searching moment. "Sure, go. I'll see
you around sometime."
She grabbed on to his casual note as if it were a lifeline. "Yeah, I'll
see you around."
As she opened the door and stepped into the hallway she saw a man get
off the elevator. Her first instinct was to hide, and she dashed back
into Matt's apartment just as her name rang through the hall.
Dear Lord, it couldn't be Brian, not now, not at this moment, when she
was already feeling confused.
But she could hear his steps moving
impatiently down the hall. That was Brian, impatient, purposeful,
and
apparently back in town.
"What's going on?" Matt asked.
Caitlyn couldn't answer. She wasn't ready to see Brian. She'd sent him
away eighteen months ago, but now if seemed like only a minute had
passed. "I—I..." She turned her head as Brian called her name
once
again. Obviously he'd seen her dash into Matt's apartment. Darn.
"I think someone is looking for you," Matt said. When she didn't move,
he walked over and opened the door.
Brian stood in the hallway looking confused.
"Caitlyn?"
Both men said her name at exactly the same time. Caitlyn was caught
between them, foolishly wishing Emily might cry and distract Matt at
least, but the baby was still cradled in Matt's arms, blissfully
sucking on her bottle.
"Hello, Brian," she said, finally looking into the face of the man she
had once hoped to marry. He hadn't changed at all, still tall and lean,
sandy brown hair cut just above his collar, and a neat beard to match.
He wore tan trousers and a cream-colored sweater vest over a knit
shirt, looking very much like the intellectual he was.
"Caitlyn," he said again. "I hope this isn't a bad time."
"You might have called first."
"I did call." He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. "When you
didn't call me back, I thought I'd come over. Your mother said you'd
made some changes in your life."
"I—I have," she replied.
Brian's gaze drifted to Matt, who was unabashedly listening to their
conversation. Suddenly, he turned pale, a disbelieving light coining
into his eyes as he looked back to her. "My God, Cait, is he the change
your mother was talking about? And is that—is that your baby?"
five
Brian's question knocked the breath right out of Caitlyn's chest. Howcould he think that she could
have gone from him to another man so
quickly and had a baby ... it was unbelievable, unthinkable.
"How could you even ask me that?" she demanded. "Do you remember what I
looked like when you
left? Do you?"
Brian stared back at her for a long minute. "Sorry," he muttered,
pressing a hand to his temple as if he had a throbbing headache. "I
don't usually jump to conclusions. I just don't know what to think."
"This is my neighbor, Matt Winters," she said tightly. "And his niece,
Emily. This is Brian Hastings."
Matt looked at them both with a speculative gleam in his eyes. His
reporter instincts obviously sensed
a story, but Caitlyn had no
intention of sharing this one with him.
"Nice to meet you," Brian said.
"Yeah," Matt replied.
"Can we talk, Caitlyn?" Brian asked. "In private?"
Oh, how she'd love to say no, that she was too busy right now, that it
would have to wait until tomorrow or next week or next year, because
she still didn't know what to say. Unfortunately, she didn't think she
could put him off. He had that look in his eyes, the one he wore when
he was determined to find the correct answer.
"All right." She walked across the hall and opened the door to her
apartment. As Brian walked inside,
she glanced back at Matt. "I can see
why you don't like nosy neighbors."
"Who is that guy?"
"None of your business."
"Do you want me to stick around?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? A minute ago you looked like you wanted to find a dark
hole to hide in."
"I'm okay." And with that, she took a deep breath and shut the door,
leaving her with one problem
instead of two.
Brian stood in the middle of her apartment, looking dazed by the
feminine surroundings and bridal accessories. '"Well," he said. "It's
different."
"I've been swamped with alterations," she explained. "This is the big
wedding season. Everyone wants to be a June bride." She cleared her
throat, wondering why she was talking about weddings with her former
fiance.
"Why didn't you stay with your parents? I thought it was easier for you
to concentrate on business when you lived there."
"I'm twenty-eight, a little old to be living with my parents." She
could have told him that after the accident it wasn't just physical
space she had craved, but emotional space as well. But that would only
open up the can of worms called their past that much sooner.
Brian didn't seem to know what to say.
During the ensuing quiet, Caitlyn looked at him, really looked at him
for the first time, and saw the familiar features, the errant curl by
his ear, the shoulders upon which she had once rested her head, the
arms that had held her so close. It was good to see him. It was
disturbing, too. It had been far easier to keep her emotions at bay
when he was living on the other side of the country.
Brian looked back at her with the same curiosity in his eyes, but there
was a wariness there as well, a cautiousness that she didn't remember
being a part of his personality, at least not with her. He'd always
been the take-charge one in their relationship, so smart about
everything, so certain of what they should and shouldn't do that it had
seemed natural to follow his lead. But that had been before the
accident, and she'd changed in so many ways since then.
"So," he continued. "My fellowship ended last week. I must say it's
good to be home."
She nodded. "The time went quickly."
"In some ways. You look wonderful, Caitlyn." He offered her a tentative
smile. "Not even a limp?"
"Only when it rains or when I'm tired,"
"That's good to hear."
Another uncomfortable silence fell between them. Brian shifted his
feet. Caitlyn glanced around the room, wondering what to do next. If
he'd called first, she could have gotten herself together, but as it
was, she was rattled at seeing him again and she didn't know what to
say. Finally, she came up with, "Are you planning to stay in San
Francisco?"
He looked surprised by her question. "Yes, of course. This is my home.
I've already submitted my resume to several universities. I'm hoping to
work with your parents, but that remains to be seen."
"They'd love that."
"What about you? How would you feel?"
"I'd be happy for you. It's what you've wanted, what they've wanted."
"Caitlyn.. ." he started, then stopped, then began again. "What's going
on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know where we stand. I don't know why you didn't call or
write."
"You didn't call or write either."
"I did in the beginning."
"One letter."
"One letter that you didn't answer. I knew then you were angry. Why did
you tell me to go if you didn't want me to go?"
"Because you wanted to go," she said simply, the words coming to her so
quickly they slid right out of
her mouth.
"That's true. I did want to accept the fellowship. But I didn't
understand the choice was the fellowship or you. By the time I came to
that realization it was too late to back out. I just hoped that once
you were recovered and I was home we could work things out. That's why
I'm here now." He sighed, his face
filled with confusion. "I seem to
continually get into trouble for taking a woman's words at face value.
You said to go, but what you were really saying is if you go, it's all
over."
He was right. She had sent him mixed signals. She'd told him to go when
deep down inside she'd wanted him to stay, to tell her she was the most
important thing in the world to him.
Or maybe that wasn't even the whole truth. Sending him away had gone
hand in hand with sending away so many other troubling emotions.
"Besides the fact that I left, I think you blamed me for the accident,"
Brian continued when she didn't reply.
She shook her head. "That's not true. I didn't blame you."
"You weren't ready for that ski run. I pushed you into it."
He had pushed, but she'd gone along, pretending to be someone she
wasn't, someone he would love more, someone as in tune with nature as
he was. She'd seen the need in his eyes and, as always, had wanted to
fill it. But she'd fallen hopelessly short. In fact, she'd fallen
halfway down a mountain. They'd spent Christmas in the hospital,
instead of by a hot fire in a beautiful lodge the way they'd planned.
And after the immediate crisis of saving her life had passed, she'd
been transferred to another hospital in San Francisco, sent home to
spend the weeks and months recuperating from her injuries.
"Well, I blame myself," Brian said heavily. "And my life hasn't been
the same without you in it. I would very much like another chance with
you, Caitlyn. What do you say?"
What did she say? A million words came to mind, but they were so
cluttered and disorganized she couldn't gel a single one past her lips.
"Are you with someone else? Is that why you're hesitating?"
She wanted to say yes, she was with someone else; then he'd go away
again and take the rest of the
stuff she didn't want to deal with away
with him. But she couldn't lie. "I'm not seeing anyone else."
His blue eyes lightened. "Will you let me take you to dinner?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. I have so much work to do."
"You have to eat."
Right now she felt more like throwing up. The turmoil of seeing him
again, of being taken back to a
place she'd never wanted to revisit,
had completely unsettled her.
Brian had no real idea of what she'd gone through that year. She'd made
her noble gesture, and he'd grabbed it, disappearing through the
hospital doors before she had a second to have second thoughts. Now he
was back, asking her to dinner as if nothing had happened between them,
and yet everything
had happened.
"I don't think we can go back to the way we were," she said slowly.
"We could try."
"Why? Because I'm healthy now?" she asked.
"And because now I can be here for you all the time. I want a chance to
make things right again."
"I doubt that's possible." She paused, gathering her courage. "It
wasn't just your leaving that split us
apart. I heard you, Brian. I
heard you that night when I was waking up from surgery."
"Heard what?"
"You said I was—I was damaged beyond belief," she whispered, barely
able to get the sentence out.
His mouth dropped open. "My God, Caitlyn. I never meant for you to hear
that. I was shaken. I didn't know what I was saying. I was horrified by
how badly hurt you were."
"You were right. I was damaged, Brian." She took a breath and
continued. "I'm still damaged. Maybe
you can't see the scars, but that
doesn't mean they're not there."
"Let me make it up to you. Let me prove to you that I'm not as selfish
or as heartless as I must have appeared to be when I left you behind."
She saw the sincerity in his eyes and weakened. "I don't know."
"Think about it. Think about all of it. Remember what we were to each
other. How we felt."
"Don't you understand, Brian? The last thing I want to do is remember
the days I have tried so hard to forget. I spent a lot of time in a lot
of pain." She walked over to the door and held it open. "I think you
should go."
Brian hesitated, then walked slowly toward her. "I'll go for now, but
I'm not giving up on you, or on us." He ran a finger down the side of
her cheek in a familiar caress. "I want the future we planned, you and
me together, a family. It's what you wanted, too, and I can't believe
that you could change that much."
A gleam of triumph lit up his eyes as
she couldn't deny his words. "I'll see you at brunch tomorrow.
Your
parents invited me over."
Her heart sank. "Brian, this is too fast. You're gone . . . now you're
back. I can't change channels that quickly. I'm different now. So are
you. We have lives that haven't included each other for a while."
"Then we'll get to know each other again. I'm not giving up, Caitlyn.
You told me to go before, and I believed you, so I went. But I learned
my lesson. This time, no matter what you say, I'm staying,
because I
think that's really what you want."
And as she shut the door behind him, Caitlyn had the terrible feeling
she'd created a monster. She
needed to learn how to say what she meant
and mean what she said. But she was feeling as confused
and conflicted
now as she'd felt eighteen months ago.
At one point in her life she'd been certain she could stand by Brian
for all time. She'd been prepared to take vows to that effect. What
kind of a woman was she now to not even consider giving their
relationship another chance when she'd once invested so much of herself
in it? Didn't she
owe him something? Didn't he owe her? Or would they both be better off
by calling it even and calling it over?
If only the answers would come
as easily as the questions.
Matt heard Caitlyn's door close and had to resist the impulse to look
through the peephole. Caitlyn and her Abe Lincoln boyfriend were none
of his business. He certainly wasn't surprised that she'd hooked
up
with some bearded intellectual type. He probably read her poetry and
took her to museums.
Although . .. Caitlyn hadn't looked that happy to see him, and the fact
that the guy had jumped to a big conclusion about Caitlyn and himself
made Matt suspect they'd had a breakup of some sort.
Damn! Why was he thinking about Caitlyn again? He needed to concentrate
on Sarah, on trying to figure out where she might have gone and how he
would find her. It was unbelievable how many searches he'd conducted
over the years, always coming up empty. Even with all his resources,
he'd struck out. But Sarah had somehow found him and decided to leave
her baby with him. It still blew his mind. How did Sarah know she could
trust him? He could have been anybody now. So could she. That's what
worried him the most, that Sarah could have inherited their mother's
genes. He wanted to believe she was coming back. But he'd been wrong
before.
Restless again, Matt stood up. It was too quiet. He almost wished Emily
was still awake, but she'd finally dropped off to sleep after he'd made
her comfortable in the middle of his king-size bed, placing cushions
all around her to keep her from rolling about. He'd put her on her side
and hoped that was right, but that hadn't stopped him from checking on
her every few minutes. He didn't know how he would sleep
tonight. Who would watch her when he was asleep? The responsibility of
parenting suddenly overwhelmed him.
What would he do with Emily if Sarah didn't come back? Could he really
be a father?
He shook his head, knowing he couldn't think about that right now. One
step at a time. Matt just wished the damn phone would ring, or a knock
would come at his door and Sarah would magically appear. He glared at
the phone, which remained ominously silent.
But in the quiet came the sound of another door closing—Caitlyn's. Matt
didn't stop to think before he moved, so desperate was he for a
lifeline. He was in the hall before she'd gotten halfway to the
elevator.
"Caitlyn," he called out.
She stopped and turned slowly, as if she wished she'd been able to
escape. "What?"
"Where are you going?"
"Is it any of your business?"
"Tell me anyway."
She sighed and pointed to her running shoes. It was then he realized
she'd changed into a mint-green jogging suit that was the color of his
favorite ice cream. "I need to get out."
"It's after eight—it's dark out there."
"And your point would be .. ."
"That you shouldn't be running alone after dark."
"I'll be fine. I need some air. And I can't stand all the tension in my
body."
He had a hunch he knew who was the cause of that tension. "I have an
idea."
"No, I do not want to hold Emily."
"That wasn't what I was going to say."
She sent him a suspicious look.
"Two words. Punching bag."
She stared at him for a long moment. "You're talking about that thing
you have hanging in the corner
of your living room?"
"Exactly. It's great at relieving tension. Frankly, you look like you
could throw a few good punches
right now."
"I don't know how to box."
"I thought you'd taken self-defense."
"My mother signed me up," Caitlyn admitted. "She was determined I
should know how to defend myself before I was allowed to go on a date.
I spent most of the time in the bathroom. The guy in the pads scared
me."
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