The Darkest of Shadows (43 page)

“How was it your fault?”

“It was all about the guilt. I knew that the cancer wasn’t my fault. I didn’t cause it, but what ate at me was the fact that she had been so alone. I had chosen my work over her, and in the end she had been taken from me. In the scheme of things, I had her for such a short period of time. She should have been my focus, not my job. I should have given her everything; instead, I felt like I had abandoned her. What I had to learn was to accept that I couldn’t change the events as they had happened. I could only accept and change from here forward. I could love my Lizzie in death, exactly as she should have been loved in life.”

He spoke so calmly and steadily about something that crushed me. I could barely even think about what I had lost. But he spoke openly and easily about his own hurt.

“How long?” My voice broke over the words. “How long did it take you?”

“Years,” he admitted. “It’s not a cure, and it’s not something that ever actually goes away. It’s just something that I’ve been able to learn to live with.”

“I can’t even begin to try,” I said. “Where do you start to forgive yourself?”

“Start at the beginning,” he said.

“The beginning and the end are the same.”

“Do you want to forgive yourself?” he asked.

I laughed, a bitter sound of total loss. “That’s where we differ,” I told him, and for once I turned to stare into those eyes. “Because I
did
kill the people I love.”

“I don’t know what happened, but I know the sort of person that you are, and I know the sort of person you must be to have Lawrence’s trust. So I would like to ask a question. Was it intentional or an accident?”

“Does it matter?” I snapped, turning back to stare out the window. “The result was the same.”

“It makes all the difference in the world.”

“Not to me.”

“Then that is your beginning,” he instructed. “You need to determine in your own heart the difference between an accident and an act of purpose. You are an intelligent and honorable woman, Lillianna. You already know the answer to that question; you just have to accept it as the truth.”

“I’ll not use an excuse to forgive myself what happened,” I objected.

“It’s not an excuse if it is the truth,” he corrected. “But that’s your decision to make. It’s your own mind that needs to realize the difference, and once you have done that, then you can start thinking about forgiveness.”

“What if I can never accept the difference?”

“Then you will continue to live a half-life.”

I wanted to rave at him for suggesting such a thing, but at the same time, I knew he was right. That was exactly what I was doing. I did just enough to get through each day and not a thing more. It was a half-life.

“I know what it’s like,” he reminded me. “I lived that life for nearly two years, until Lawrence came along and taught me otherwise. He helped me Lilly. Please allow him to do the same for you.”

For the first time in a very, very long time, years, I felt a cold wetness slide slowly down my cheeks. Tears, something I didn’t think I had anymore. I was crying, what an astonishing thing.

“I’ll think about what you said.” I rose from the lounge, and he walked with me to the door. I needed time alone, to think, to not think. I opened the door and came face to face with Lawrence. He hadn’t gone far. He stood leaning against the wall in the hall, directly opposite the door.

“Lilly.” He was standing in front of me a second later. “Are you all right?” His face searched mine, and I managed to give him a small smile.

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” I rested my hand on his chest and then walked down the hall away from them both.

“No.” William held out a hand to stop Lawrence following her. “Leave her for a while.”

“You made her cry?” Lawrence accused. “Lilly never cries.”

“Lilly needs to cry,” William countered, and then indicated for him to come into the room. “How much do you know about what actually happened to her?” he asked.

“Everything,” Lawrence admitted. “But she doesn’t know that.”

William nodded. “She is deeply disturbed, Lawrence,” he said.

“Don’t say that,” Lawrence snapped. “She isn’t disturbed.”

“Yes, she is,” William replied. “You need to accept this. She is a very frightened and confused woman, and you need to understand that if you are to help her.”

“I’m not sure how to help.”

“You already are.” William rested a hand on Lawrence’s shoulder as they sat beside each other on the lounge. “You brought her to me, which was a good decision. She trusts you, which considering her state of mind is miraculous. She fully intends to live the rest of her life not caring for anyone, yet here you come along and get under her skin. She cares for you, deeply. And it might be just enough to force her to confront what happened.”

“I love her, Will,” Lawrence said, and dropped his head into his hands.

“I know you do, my boy,” William acknowledged. “And if she is strong enough to fight this, then she will be worth the heartache.”

“What do I do now?”

“You give her time, and then you continue to love her.”

“Will she get better?”

“She is trying. She doesn’t even realize how much she has changed, how much difference you have made to her life. Take it slow, which you have been. Don’t push her, and she won’t run. Don’t frighten her, and don’t smother her, and one day she will realize that it is OK to love you in return.”

“God, I hope so.”

“I have planted the seed in her mind,” William told him. “I have given her the chance to start walking down the road to forgiveness. It’s up to her to decide whether she wants to or not, but from what I have seen of her over the last week, and for what it’s worth, I believe that she will walk that road.”

“Thank you, Will.” Lawrence breathed deeply. “I can’t repay you for what you have done.”

“You don’t need to,” William assured him. “I owe you far more than what I am giving you today. You saved my life, Lawrence. That is a debt I can never repay.”

“Yes, but you might have saved Lilly’s life, and that, to me, is beyond value.”

William nodded in understanding; he would have felt the same about his Lizzie. “She won’t ever be exactly normal, Lawrence. Remember that.”

“I don’t want her to be,” Lawrence admitted. “I love the Lilly that she is; I just don’t want her to hurt.”

“If and when she reconciles to that hurt, she will change.”

“Probably, but not in the ways that truly matter to me.”

I didn’t get to talk with William alone again before we left, which I was thankful for, because I still wasn’t sure how I felt about what he said—and I most definitely wasn’t ready to talk about it again. He kissed me on both cheeks just before we got into the car to leave, with a promise that he would see me again soon. I had no doubt that we probably would be visiting again in the near future.

We didn’t have anywhere near as long a drive to the airport this time. We were flying out of Manchester, so the drive was only a few hours. It was kind of surreal when we turned our phones back on, when we were in the air heading to LA, but it was also kind of reassuring. It was comforting for me to be surrounded by what was familiar. When my mind was in such turmoil, largely due to William’s words, I needed the comfort of work to steady my nerves.

From the moment we were in the air, Lawrence was immersed back into work. He kissed me, then settled on one of the lounges and called Allan. After that long conversation, he worked his way through the long list of MDs. The more phone calls he made, the more work he generated for me, and before long I was immersed in a mountain of tasks.

We were nearly in LA, a very long flight later, before he finally got off the phone.

“Lawrence?” I asked cautiously, as I watched him rise from the lounge and stretch his back.

“Yeah.” He moved toward the front of the plane where I sat at the table.

“Could we talk for a sec?” There was something that had been bothering me for a while now, and it was starting to nag me enough that I wanted to talk about it.

“Sure.” He sat down across from me. He tried to hide it, but I could tell my words worried him, and that was exactly what I wanted to talk to him about.

“Please try not to take this the wrong way,” I started, and he instantly sat back in his chair.

“It’s a bit hard not to when you lead with that statement,” he responded warily.

I reached out a hand toward him, and he reluctantly placed his in mine. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to say this without it coming across badly,” I explained.

“Just say it, and we’ll work from there.”

“I don’t like the way that my being in your life complicates your life so much.” There, it was said.

“What do you mean?”

“I told you it was hard to explain.” I tried to concentrate on his hand in mine, the long, strong fingers. “I don’t really know much about your life before I met you, but I know enough to believe that it was stable and reliable.”

“It was hollow and dry,” he corrected.

“Possibly,” I allowed. “But you were also focused and never distracted.”

“Your point?” he asked. He wasn’t thrilled.

“I distract you.” I wouldn’t look at him.

“You do. But I wouldn’t dismiss that as a bad thing.”

“It is, and I’m worried that you can’t see that.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing, Lilly.”

“Would you ever have taken a week off work, totally locked yourself away from your business, before you met me? A simple yes or no will suffice.”

“No, I wouldn’t have.” When I looked triumphant, he added, “But I should have.”

“But you didn’t do it for you this time; you did it for me. A lot of your decisions are for me, and I don’t want to be that kind of drain on your life. Somehow I feel like I’ve gone from helping you, being your assistant and making your life easier, to being a strange complication that takes your focus away from what’s important. You’re missing functions; you’re preoccupied with worry for me when you should be focusing on the company.”

“Where are you going with this, Lilly?” he asked cautiously.

“I think that maybe I shouldn’t work for you anymore.”

He face went white, and the hand that I held flushed with a coldness that surprised me. He jerked it back out of my grasp. “No,” he said, then repeated it. “No, Lilly. You are not running from me, and don’t you dare use that as an excuse.”

He stood suddenly, and I could see from the way he held his body, from the rigid lines of his face, that he was barely restraining his temper.

“I won’t be a burden to anyone, Lawrence.” I rose to stand before him. “I can’t be.”

“How do you want me to explain it, Lilly?” he asked in exasperation. I didn’t know what he meant. “Tell me what you need me to say to make you not think that way?”

“I’m not sure—” I started, but he interrupted.

“Fine, I’ll just say it as simply as I can,” he fumed. “You know me, Lilly, more than most people, you understand me.” He stopped, waiting for my response. “A simple yes or no, Lilly.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“Have you ever known me to do anything I didn’t want to do?”

“No.”

“Do you believe that I care for you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you believe that I care for my company?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’m a smart man? An intelligent man?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s possible that I can manage both you and my company?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure,” I replied.

“Simple yes or no,” he reminded me. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that I’m blinded by love?”

“No.” God, I hoped not.

“Have I done anything in the past two years that has in any way negatively affected the growth or performance of my company?”

“I don’t think so,” I admitted.

“Then what the hell gave you the idea that you are distracting me in a bad way? For Christ’s sake, Lilly, for the first time in my life, I’m thinking about something other than business. For the first time I go to sleep at night, and it’s not business that’s on my mind. I have a life. I never lived before I met you. I didn’t know there was a difference. I know you can’t possibly imagine this, but I have been alone for the last twenty years, Lilly. Twenty fucking years! I lived out of hotels and never had someone constant in my life. You talk as if your being in my life is a bad thing, which insults me.” His voice shook with emotion. “You brought life to my world, Lilly, and for you to suggest that it is a distraction, a bad distraction, makes me feel like I mean nothing.”

Wow, that was totally not what I meant. “Lawrence.” Now it was my turn for my voice to shake. “I didn’t mean it like that.” I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around him. His body was like solid steel before me, not an ounce of give. His hands didn’t move from where they were clenched against his sides. “I’m sorry,” I told his chest. “I didn’t mean for you to think that you mean nothing to me. You mean so much, and sometimes I’m not sure what to do with that. I don’t know how to deal with you in my life in that way. I have tried so hard to not know anyone, to not let anyone know me; then you come along, and I don’t know what to do.” It was more than I had ever said about us, and it still didn’t make a lot of sense.

He relaxed a little, but not much. “I hate being a burden,” I groaned against his chest and hoped that he could understand. “I haven’t relied on anyone in a long time, and I find myself relying on you more and more every day and it scares me.”

“Do you think that I would ever hurt you?” he asked. His arms finally reached around and pulled me tighter against him.

“No, not intentionally,” I told him. “But there are other, more frightening things for me to consider.”

“Like what?”

“Like what would happen to me if I lost you.” The words were so quiet I wasn’t sure he heard them.

“I’m not going anywhere Lilly,” he said, but I knew it wasn’t a promise that he could keep.

“Someone else said that to me once before. And he broke that promise.”

Lawrence’s head lowered to rest against the top of mine. “What can I promise you that would help you be OK with us?”