Authors: Heather Blackmore
Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Gay & Lesbian, #Lesbian, #Mystery, #(v5.0)
It dawned on me for the very first time that I had hurt Sarah. Deeply. I couldn’t believe I’d been so blind. She’d felt the connection we’d shared at Claiborne every bit as much as I had. No wonder, once I started working at the Foundation, she’d tried to distance herself from me after our first dinner at her house. No wonder, after delivering her searing kisses in the hotel room, she’d shut down emotionally after I told her I wouldn’t hurt her. No wonder she’d seemed so sad when I’d ascertained how much more she cared about grant-making than fund-raising, because while I knew her better than anyone else—the real Sarah, not the one-dimensional trophy others found attractive—she wasn’t about to let me hurt her again. No wonder she’d had difficulty trusting me, even when she’d had some hint as to the reasons I hadn’t come clean about my role at the Foundation. It made perfect sense. She’d been conflicted about letting me back into her life.
And she’d been letting me in anyway.
Not for the first time, I was completely in awe of this woman. Here I’d been thinking she’d made some strides by letting me in as much as she had. But I’d underestimated her. Sarah hadn’t only made strides: she’d moved mountains. If I’d hurt her like her former fiancé had, she shouldn’t even be speaking to me, let alone dating me. She’d been giving me a chance—a second chance—and all I’d been doing was feeling grateful for getting what I’d uncharitably thought were mere bits and pieces of her: pieces that were nice to see and hold, but ultimately not vital. Now I’d learned I was responsible for inflicting onto Sarah some of the very scars I’d been trying to pry back open.
How could she ever forgive me?
Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe that’s what she was alluding to. Maybe she couldn’t go down this path again.
Please, love. We’ve come so far. Please don’t walk away now.
I couldn’t bear the distance between us and met Sarah at the window. She didn’t seem ready for me to touch her, but I stood before her and reached out a hand, hoping she’d take it. She did, and when she continued speaking, it was barely above a whisper.
“I saw it another way, too, back then. When I was with you, a whole other part of me was alive. That part of me is alive again, and I don’t want to lose it. I keep thinking…” She swallowed hard. “I keep thinking if I don’t tell you how I feel about you, I won’t risk my heart again. But not only is that unfair to you, it’s untrue. You already have it.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, and tears started to well up in my eyes, too. Sarah continued. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, Cazz. I can’t stand the thought that I might lose you because I never summoned the courage to tell you how I feel.” She wiped a tear with her finger. “I don’t want to be with anyone else,” she whispered. And then, so quietly I almost didn’t hear her, Sarah said, “Please tell me you feel the same.”
I stepped to her and wrapped her in my arms. I didn’t know whether I was crying from relief or joy, but my throat was so tight I could barely swallow, let alone talk. This amazing woman was risking her heart in the worst way: she was willing to believe once more in someone who had previously disappointed her. She was forgiving me and trusting me. Loving me.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course I love you, sweetheart. Always you. Only you.” I felt her staggered intakes of breath and wasn’t sure if she was crying from relief or leftover anxiety. I’d never seen Sarah more vulnerable. I pivoted onto the balls of my feet and gently kissed her lips. Having been there myself, I knew how hard it had been for her to tell me how she felt. I was overwhelmed by gratitude and humbled by love. I wiped a tear from my eye and brushed one falling down Sarah’s cheek.
I pulled her tightly to me once again. “I love you so much, Sarah. Thank you for telling me.” We kissed sweetly, and when we pulled apart, we both sighed, our hearts full. “One last thing.” I dashed to the table for our champagne, then quickly offered her flute to her. Once she took it, I held my drink in one hand and her hand in the other.
“You’re right.” I beamed. “As special as the Pipeline deal is, it’s small compared to the other thing we’re celebrating.” I held up my glass, but since it had been Sarah’s idea, I let her do the honors.
Smiling, she squeezed my hand and raised her flute to mine. “To us.”
Who would believe that a two-letter word could instill so much joy in a person?
“To us,” I said, as I clinked my glass to Sarah’s and linked my heart with hers forever.
Heather Blackmore
works in finance and accounting for technology startups, where she puts in her two cents then counts them. In a seemingly counterintuitive move, she got her MSA and CPA with the goal of one day being able to work part-time so she could write. She’s finally living her dream, thankful for however long it lasts.
Like Jazz is her first novel.
Heather is married and lives in California. She spends much of her leisure time reading and writing, interspersed with an occasional burst of exercise. She enjoys theater, traveling, hiking, and trying new vegetarian recipes. When she’s home, a four-legged friend is always nearby.
Visit www.heatherblackmore.com or drop her a line at [email protected].
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