she saw the pain in her eyes mirrored in his own. “Now come on, sweetheart, it's not that bad.” He took her in his arms and let his lips roam slowly over the soft spun-gold hair.
“You're leaving?” It was a hoarse whisper, and quickly he shook his head.
“Of course not. Is that what you thought?” He pulled away from her gently, his eyes loving yet at the same time sad. “No, darling. I'm not leaving. This is nothing official.” And then he decided to plunge ahead and tell her. “It's Partie. She's coming over. I'm not sure why. She says the trip is an engagement present from her father. Frankly I think that she's worried. I haven't been writing much lately and she called here the other morning, right after… I don't know. I couldn't talk to her.” He stood up and wandered slowly across the room, his eyes troubled and vague. “I couldn't say the things she wanted.” And then he turned to face Serena. “I couldn't play the game with her, Serena. I don't know. I'm not sure what to do. I probably should have written to her weeks ago, to break the engagement, but—” He looked desperately unhappy. “I just wasn't sure.”
Serena nodded slowly, the knife of pain slicing swiftly through to her very core. “You still love her, don't you?” It was more a statement than a question, and B.J. looked at her with fresh anguish in his eyes.
“I'm not sure. I haven't seen her in months now, and that was all so unreal. It was the first time I'd been home in three years. It was all so heady and so romantic, and our families were cheering us on. It was like something in a movie, I'm not sure it's something in real life.”
“But you were going to many her.”
He nodded slowly. “It's what everyone wanted.” And then he knew he had to be honest. “It was what I wanted too. It seemed so right at the time. But now …”
Serena closed her eyes for a moment as she stretched out in front of the fire, trying to bear the pain of what she knew would come. And then she looked at him again, not in anger, but in sorrow. She knew that she couldn't fight the pretty dark-haired woman. She had already won him. And Serena was no one. Just the upstairs maid, as she had said to Marcella. The ugliness of it all was that it was true.
“I know what you're thinking.” He said it miserably as he dropped into a chair near the window and ran a hand through his already tousled curly hair. Before she had come to him that evening, he had been sitting there for hours, thinking, weighing, asking himself questions to which he didn't have answers. “Serena, I love you.”
“And I love you too. But I understand also that this is very romantic, that it is wonderful, but it is this, Brad, that is not real. That girl, her family, they know you. You know them. That is your life. What can this really be between us? An extraordinary memory? A tender moment?” She shrugged. “This is more like ‘something in a movie.’ ” She was quoting him. “It is nothing in real life. You can't take me home. We can't get married. She's the one you should marry and you know it.” Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away as he strode rapidly toward her and pulled her into his arms.
“But what if I don't want to?”
“You have to. You're engaged to be married.”
“I could break the engagement.” But the bitch of it Was that he wasn't sure if that was what he wanted. He loved this girl. But he had loved Pattie too. And he had been so proud, so exhilarated, so excited. Was that what he felt now? Was that what he felt for Serena? No, it wasn't excitement, it was something different, something quiet. He felt protective and tender, and sometimes almost fatherly toward her. He wanted to be there for her. And he knew also that at the end of every day he wanted her to be there for him. He had come to count on her quiet presence, her thoughtful words, her quiet moments in which she weighed all that he said. She often said things that helped him later. As he sat at his desk, tackling a problem, he would hear the soft voice beside him and move steadily