even hoped, I would find you bitter and alone, but I saw how everyone loves you and that other men wanted you.” He scowled. “Like Cooper Edwards.”
She started to reply, but he cut her off. “We’ll come back to him later.”
“I thought your family would have manipulated you into being at their beck and call, but although you still helped them out, you lived your own life too. I thought you were unfeeling, but then I saw how compassionate you were with John. And you were so tolerant of Heather and Carrie’s silliness, even though I tried to irritate you by flirting with them.”
“We’ll come back to them later,” she returned.
He looked away in embarrassment, but then he faced her once more. “The more I watched, the more you fascinated me, and then I kissed you that night. I was so scared, realizing how much I still wanted you and thinking there was no way you could still want me. So I ran. But that kiss sealed my fate. A couple weeks ago, I phoned John and we were talking about things, discussing our plans. When I hung up, I thought, ‘What the hell am I doing?’ Hadn’t I just spent the last six months telling myself that life was too short to live with regrets? I had to know if I still had a chance, so I came to your art show to see you . . . and there was Edwards always at your side, whispering in your ear, touching you like he had the right. God, I wanted to punch him.”
“Thank you for not doing that. I don’t know what I’d have done if you and Cooper started brawling at the biggest event of my career.”
“You’re welcome. I showed admirable restraint, I thought.” He stroked her hair. “But now, perhaps our timing is finally right. It’s a miracle that I found you again and at a time when you were free.”
She laughed, a wry little chuckle, and shook her head. “No worries there. I’ve been available since you left.”
He stared at her as if she were an alien. “Laurel?”
For the first time, she felt embarrassed in front of him and drew her arms up to hug herself. “You must think I’m so provincial — never to have seriously dated anyone after all this time.”
“Are you telling me there’s been no one else but me? In eight years?”
She shrugged. “Who am I going to meet here at Uppercross Hollow?”
“But you went to college . . . You travel places sometimes . . . You must have . . . with someone.”
Her eyes sought his and held them; a steady blue flame lit her from within. “You don’t understand. Maybe I thought about it every once in a while — God knows I was lonely — but I never could make myself act on it even if the opportunity arose. You see, I’ve never loved anyone else either.”
“I don’t believe this.”
She stepped back, shock and pain spreading across her face.
He shook his head suddenly, realizing how that sounded. “No, no . . . I believe you. I just don’t believe . . . How is it possible for me to feel so ecstatic about this and so much like a heel at the same time? I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You loved me.”
“Past, present and future,” he whispered as he held out his arms and drew her close. “I will always love you, Laurel Elliot. Always.”
There was a long pause while she struggled to keep her composure. She looked away, took a deep breath of the cold night air, tried to control the emotions building up inside her, and then she gave up and burst into tears. “I’m so sorry I hurt you all those years ago.”
“No, darling — I’m the one who’s sorry. Ssh . . . don’t cry. It’s okay.” He tried to keep her close, but she resisted, pushing against his chest with her forearms, shaking her head violently.
“And I’m sorry I hurt me when I let you go. I didn’t want to, but everything was happening so fast, and I didn’t know what to do. After you left, I mourned for you, but I thought you wouldn’t want me after I sent you away, and then later, Stuart told me you moved to California. I thought you were gone forever.”
He managed to keep her in his arms, petting, comforting — unsure what to do with tears from this woman he loved so