his eyes. “Look, Tom called me several hours ago to explain. His teen daughter found the video on his phone and sent it to a few friends because she thought—well, that doesn’t matter. It steamrolled from that point. Just one of those things that happen.”
Eleanor felt the panic tear at her. She held no control over what had happened...she wasn’t even a bystander. She hadn’t known anything about the song, and that made her feel powerless.
“And it’s not all bad. A lot of good things could come from this accident,” he said.
“For you.”
“No, not for me. Wait, do you think I did this on purpose?”
“I would hope not. My daughter saw that video, Dez. She heard you talking about sliding into me. Can you see this from my side?”
“Of course, but Blakely’s grown. I’m not trying to capitalize off this mistake, but I’m smart enough to realize there’s nothing I can do about it. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.”
“No, none of it was supposed to happen, was it?” Eleanor looked down at the calendar on her desk. March 9 was circled with a little sunshine on it. She’d written beach beneath little waves. She took a Sharpie and scribbled over the sunshine that mocked her. “This was all a big mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
She gazed up at him. “From the beginning I knew you and I were too different. This only proves it. We’re on different wavelengths.”
Dez sank onto the edge of the damask chair with the carved angels sitting vigil. “So what? You’re breaking up with me because of this video?”
“Maybe ending us is for the best.”
“Seriously? One rocky spot in the road and you’re out?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Don’t you get it? To you, it’s easy. You’ve spent your life moving on from one thing to the other. This is no big deal because you can profit from it. For me, I’m out to dry. On all levels.”
“That’s a pretty harsh accusation. I’m not moving from anything.”
“Don’t you dare imply I’m in the wrong. You allowed this to happen. You let him film this thinking you can get back what you once had, but you forgot there were other people involved. You forgot you dragged me along for the ride.” Anger burned in her. How dare he flip the tables and make her seem irrational? She hadn’t a hand in what had gone out to YouTube or wherever, but she did have enough sense to stop the bleeding.
’Cause that’s what she’d been doing...allowing her passions to leach out and cloud her judgment.
Eleanor Hastings Theriot wasn’t meant to be with a hot, young musician. That was the tempo beating out in her head.
Foolish, foolish woman—that’s what she was. Chasing after something she couldn’t have, trying to grab hold of a different Eleanor. She should have known she couldn’t handle Dez...couldn’t handle something so exciting and passionate.
Her only recourse was to protect herself. No one would blame her for calling in the troops and reforming behind battle lines.
Dez regarded her with such sadness. “I can’t believe you’re ready to toss everything over this. Are you that scared?”
“Don’t make this my fault, Dez. I’m saying what needs to be said. It’s the only sensible thing to do.”
His laugh was bitter. “Sensible? That’s gotta be the dirtiest word in the book of love.”
“Whoever said anything about love? We said from the beginning this would be good as long as we were both comfortable. I’m not so comfortable right now. So, yeah, I think it’s inevitable. We’re not forever, remember?”
“Who are you?” His voice vibrated with pain.
Her heart broke into a million, bajillion pieces. Never had she felt such utter devastation. Never had she not known what to do. Every cell in her body screamed to shut her damn mouth, drop to her knees and crawl to him, apologize for her weakness, but her brain, that rational part of herself that had gotten her through some hard years, overrode her impulses.
Dez studied her for a few moments, his gray eyes moving over her face as if he dissected her. It felt so familiar, yet so intrusive, she shuttered her expression and tipped her head down to study the calendar again. March 9 with its waves and blotted-out sun met her eyes yet again. Three days away. Maybe she’d go to Seaside after all.
Alone...with Nutella and lots of Oreos.
She needed time to process the past month, needed distance from her life here in New Orleans. This whole thing with Dez had