Fool for Love (28 page)

Approaching her house, he noticed the
lights were out and wondered if she was even home. He experienced a moment of
trepidation as he opened the front gate. What if she really was barfing her
guts up and would be embarrassed for him to see her like that? Well, too bad.
He was in for better or worse, and it was high time she realized that.

He knocked on the door, and the dogs went
crazy inside.

"Janey?" he said, knocking
again. "Come on, honey. I need to see you. I know something's wrong."

The dogs continued to howl, but Janey
didn't come.

"I'm going to wait, Janey. I'm not
leaving until I see that you're all right. If you don't want me to call
Mac—"

The inside door swung open.

One glance at her ravaged face told Joe
that something was very wrong. He pulled open the screen door and stepped into
the dark room. The dogs danced around his legs. "Baby, what is it?"

"I, um…" She looked up at him,
her eyes shiny with tears. "I can't do this, Joe."

"Do what?"

"This. Us."

He forced himself to remain calm so he
could figure out what the hell was going on. "What happened today? What
changed since we woke up together this morning and made love—twice?"

Sobs shook her petite frame, and it took all
he had not to go to her, to put his arms around her and assure her he'd fix
whatever had her so upset. But he couldn't seem to bring himself to move.

"I never should've let this
happen," she said between sobs. "I was messed up. Mixed up. You tried
to tell me…"

Joe took a deep breath, hoping to slow his
rapid heartbeat. "What happened today?" he asked through gritted
teeth.

"I woke up from the daze I've been in
since everything with David, and now I can't seem to stop crying or thinking
about all the years I gave him and how I have absolutely nothing to show for
them." She was crying so hard Joe wondered how she was able to breathe.
"We were supposed to get married and have four kids. I wanted those kids.
That's what I wanted."

This was what he had most feared—that when
the shock wore off, she'd discover she wasn't at all ready to move on with him.
And where would that leave him? Right here, loving her and losing her.

Needing an outlet for the energy zipping
through him, he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to resist the urge
to tear it out. "You can still have anything you want, Janey. I'd give you
anything and everything. You have to know that."

She shook her head. "I can't. I'm
sorry. I just can't."

He felt like she'd ripped the heart from
his chest, and right then and there, he realized he'd never get over losing
her. Not after all they'd shared.

"Janey, whatever is wrong, we can fix
it. If you need more time, take it. But don't try to tell me what's between us
isn't love. You'll never convince me of that."

Janey wiped the tears from her face.
"Then I won't try."

Hearing that, something inside him broke,
and he knew he had to get out of there or risk saying something he'd never be
able to take back. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I think we could've had
something pretty great, but I'm certainly not going to beg. You know where I am
if you change your mind."

Joe forced himself to turn around, to walk
out the door and down the stairs. Once he was through the gate, he pulled out
his cell phone and dialed Mac's number.

"Sleeping," Mac mumbled.

"Wake up. Something's wrong with
Janey."

"What?" Mac asked, instantly
awake. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. She won't tell
me."

"What happened?"

"I wish I knew. Will you go over
there and check on her?"

"On my way. Are you okay, Joe?"

"I'm confused. Everything was fine
this morning and now it's not. Something happened, but she won't tell me what
it is."

Mac remained silent.

"You know, don't you?"

"Joe—"

"Forget it. I don't want to know. If
she can't tell me herself, screw it. Screw this whole thing. I'm done."

"Wait—"

Joe slapped his phone closed. Enough
already.

Luke dragged his old wooden rowboat onto the sandy
beach and stowed the oars inside. The fog was gone, and a full moon lit the big
pond. Even without the light from above, he could've found this particular
stretch of beach in his sleep. Accompanied by a chorus of crickets, the path to
Sydney's summer home was as familiar to him as anything in his life.

How many nights had he arrived just like
this, under the cover of darkness, and sneaked into her yard to throw pebbles
at her window? How many nights had they spent together on the beach, making
love until dawn when she'd tiptoe back into her house and he'd hold his breath
waiting to hear they'd finally been caught? Too many to count.

He wasn't sure what had hurt more—hearing
that Sydney,
his
Sydney, had married some guy she met in college or that
she'd lost her husband and children in a tragic car crash. Luke had devoured
every word he could find on the Internet about the accident. They'd been coming
home to Boston from a weekend in New Hampshire and were stopped in a traffic
jam. From behind them, a drunk driver had come barreling into their minivan,
killing the children instantly. Sydney had been asleep at the time of the
accident, which safety officials said probably saved her life. Her husband Seth
had died later in surgery.

Even though Luke thanked God every day for
sparing her life, he ached for her unbearable loss. After hearing last night
that she was back on the island, he needed just a glimpse of her, any sign that
she was still alive and breathing. So he traveled through the dunes and the
dense growth that covered what used to be a well-worn path. A branch full of
thorns grazed his face. Judging from the warm sting on his cheek, he figured it
had broken the skin, but still he pressed on.

Loving Sydney had made his life. Losing
her had turned him into a cranky loner who never again let anyone get close
enough to truly touch him. He and Sydney hadn't really broken up, per se, but
rather drifted apart. After her second year of college, when she hadn't come to
the island for the summer and stopped returning his calls, Luke had gone to her
parents' house to find out why.

The wealthy Donovans, summer residents for
decades until they retired and became year-rounders five years ago, had never
approved of his interest in their fair-haired daughter. However, they'd told
him she had an internship, a fantastic opportunity, and wouldn't be coming out
that summer. Luke, who'd been unable to leave the island for college because of
his ailing mother, had already waited nearly a year to see Syd again. The news
that she wasn't coming had crushed him. And that she hadn't seen fit to tell
him herself pointed to the unimaginable possibility that she had met someone
else.

That summer he became a loner. Of course
there had been other women since her but only to provide an occasional physical
release. None of them had mattered to him.

He wondered, as he crept through the
brush, did she still have that long strawberry blonde hair that reached almost
to her waist? How many times over the years had he recalled the way her
gorgeous hair would drape them off from the rest of the world as she straddled
him and rode him to one incredible climax after another? Did she still get a
thousand new freckles for every hour she spent in the sun? Were her eyes still
as blue as the ocean and her pale skin soft as silk? Would she ever again let
loose with her trademark all-consuming laugh? Had she loved her husband as
sweetly and as purely as she had once loved him? Did she ever think about him?
About them? About what they'd shared for the four most memorable summers of his
life?

As he approached the big yellow house with
the wide front porch, he knew he might never get the answers he so desperately
wanted. The last person she needed to see in the midst of her terrible grief
was an old boyfriend who'd never stopped loving her or thinking about her or
remembering her.

But he needed to see her.

In the Donovans' yard, he got as close as
he dared to the well-lit porch, thankful for the lingering clouds that dimmed
the moon's glow. When he saw her sitting in a rocker, a quilt around her
shoulders, he suppressed a gasp. There, after all this time, his Sydney, the
love of his life. He hadn't seen her in sixteen years but would've known her
anywhere. Her long hair had been cut to shoulder length, but the color was just
as beautiful and vibrant as he remembered. It wasn't possible to tell whether
she still had freckles or if her eyes were as blue.

She stared out at the distant pond, lost
in thought. While he'd like to think she was remembering him and their time
together, he knew she was picturing her children playing on the rolling lawn
and beach. They'd come every summer, her and her banker husband and their two
children. Luke had never seen them, had never thought to seek her out, but he'd
always known exactly when they came and exactly when they left. Since she was
married and lost to him, it hadn't occurred to Luke to try to see her again.
That chapter was closed, finished. She had chosen someone else, and Luke had no
alternative but to live with it.

As he watched her on the porch, he barely
took a breath. His heart beat so hard and so fast he was sure she could hear
it. How could she not? And then she began to cry, and it took everything he had
to stay where he was, out of sight, out of mind, out of reach. Her anguished
sobs reached him in places no one but her had ever touched. His own eyes burned
and filled, but he didn't move. Time crawled to a stop, and he had no idea if
he remained crouched beside the porch for five minutes or an hour. When the
cramps in his legs became painful, he eased himself down to the damp grass. He
knew he should go but couldn't leave her all alone. Not when she was so sad.

After awhile, her mother stepped onto the
porch and bent to put her arms around her grieving daughter. Luke watched Mrs.
Donovan help Sydney to her feet and slowly guide her inside. Syd moved as if
she was still in great physical pain, which was hard for him to watch. For a
long time after she went inside and the porch light went out, Luke stayed
there, needing to be as close to her as possible.

And then, sometime later when he trusted
that his legs would actually carry him, he made his way back down the path to
the rowboat at the beach, already knowing he'd come back tomorrow night.

Probably the night after as well.

Janey lay on the sofa staring up at the ceiling. Turning Joe away had been, without
a doubt, the most painful moment of her life, and she couldn't seem to stop
crying. Her heart ached when she remembered the shattered look on his face. She
would never forget that.

A knock on the door startled her. She sat
up. Had he come back?

Mac walked in and came right to her.
Sitting next to her, he put his arms around her.

As her brother's familiar and comforting
scent surrounded her, Janey lost it all over again.

"Shh," he said, brushing a hand
over her hair. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"I hurt him," she said between
sobs.

Riley let out a concerned whimper and
dragged himself over to her.

Hoping to reassure him, Janey reached out
to scratch behind his ears. Among her many concerns since receiving Doc's call
earlier was how she would manage eight pets in a Columbus apartment.

"What did he say?" Janey asked
Mac.

"He's confused. He can't figure out
what happened since this morning."

"Maddie told you?"

Mac brushed the hair off her damp face and
smiled at her. "I'm so proud of you. Doctor Janey. How about that?"

Tears spilled from her eyes, and Janey
wondered if they would ever stop. "You know why I had to end it with Joe,
don't you? I couldn't string him along for the next month and then try to
manage another long-distance relationship."

"You're not giving him enough
credit."

"He'd walk away from everything that
matters to him so I could realize my dreams. I couldn't do that to him."

Mac sat back against the sofa, bringing
her with him. She rested her face on his chest, and he kept an arm around her.
If he'd asked first, Janey would've told him not to come, but she was glad he
had.

"Has he told you about how he came to
own the company?"

"Wasn't it his family's
business?"

"Uh-huh. Remember his grandparents?
They lived out by the north light?"

"You guys were so much older than
me—back then," she said with a small smile. "I never met them. I knew
they were important to him, though."

"His dad was killed in a car accident
when he was seven. I guess his mother was kind of a mess afterward. Her parents
lived out here, so they packed up their place in the city and moved here. His
grandfather had started the ferry company just after World War II. He took Joe
under his wing and taught him everything he knew about running boats. Joe
discovered he had a natural affinity for anything and everything to do with the
water, but it wasn't his first love."