the pink-and-white bride's dressing room, and sat beside her on a pale pink moire love seat. "I'm listening."
Her hands were trembling, and Tessa pressed them together. This was going to be harder than she thought. Facing reality always was. "Since the robbery, my life has changed in so many ways. I've begun to see things in a new light, see clearly for the first time. I'm not the same woman."
She studied his strong, solid features. They'd had some good times. She was going to miss him. "You're a wonderful man, but we're just not right together. I'm so sorry, Dale, I can't marry you."
He looked away from her and studied the ribboned bouquets dotting the wallpaper. In light of her decision, the overtly bridal decor seemed like a cruel taunt. A long span of heartbeats ticked past. Oh, dear, she hoped she hadn't crushed him. For a man, he was pretty sensitive.
Finally, he spoke. "Perhaps … perhaps, in light of recent developments, that's for the best."
Well, that was certainly much easier than she'd expected. Too easy. She didn't want to hurt him, didn't want him to cause a scene, but geez, a slight objection wouldn't have been out of line. Or questions about her reasons. "Recent developments?"
He hesitated. "The reason why I was late today is because I got a phone call from a boy named Colin O'Shea."
"Colin O'Shea?" It took her a few seconds. "That's the boy who followed me in the park. You know him?"
"Yes. Five years ago, I gave him violin lessons at the community center. The minute he picked up the bow, I knew he had the special something that distinguishes good from genius."
"He was your student five years ago, and still keeps in touch? Why on earth was he following me around?"
He scrubbed a hand over his solemn face. "He was more than a student. I gave him free private instruction, which is how I met his mother, Maureen. She was funny and easy to talk to, and we became close. I grew to love Colin like he was my own." A tender smile softened his face.
She'd never seen him exhibit this much emotion. In their two years together, he'd never smiled at her like that. She couldn't help it. A niggle of jealousy stung her. His confession struck an all-too-familiar chord. She'd always come dead last in her mother's life—behind her brother, acting, and the man-of-the-moment. "I think I'm beginning to understand. And Maureen?"
"Yes. I eventually fell in love with her, as well." Unaware of her inner tumult, he continued. "At first, being attracted to a woman eight years my senior threw me, but eventually, it ceased to matter. I proposed to Maureen." Looking into the past, his unfocused blue eyes glowed with warmth and vitality.
Bewilderment picked up her scattered thoughts and whirled them through her mind like a stray funnel cloud. He'd proposed to another woman before her? Dale had never mentioned his past, and she'd never asked. "What happened?"
"I knew Mother would react badly, but I hoped…" He sighed. "I decided to marry Maureen anyway. Then Dad got lung cancer. We suffered eight months of hell, and when he died, Mother fell apart. After the funeral, Maureen broke down and confessed she couldn't handle the age difference after all. I tried everything to change her mind, but she wouldn't listen." Pain bracketed his mouth as he fell silent.
Tessa had plenty of experience with rejection. "I know how much that must have hurt."
"I was devastated. Not only had I lost the love of my life, but also Colin. I'm sure he thought I abandoned him. I quit caring about everything and started sleepwalking through life." He shook his head. "Six months later, Mother met you at the children's charity. She convinced me to ask you out."
She went cold. "You dated me to please your mother?"
"At first, yeah." He gave her an embarrassed smile. "But then we meshed, and I genuinely began to care for you. I hold you in such high regard, and we have a lot in common. You're the best friend I've got. Lots of successful marriages have been built on less."
She sucked in a shaky breath. "But your heart is elsewhere."
He fisted his hands in his lap. "I haven't seen or talked to Maureen in three years. But after I spoke to Colin today, I called her, and got her to spill the truth. Apparently, Mother had a 'discussion' with her at Dad's funeral. I knew Maureen had had a