that for him, I came to the firm conclusion that as of right now, I just couldn’t. Jonas had died less than five months ago. Perhaps sometime, someday down the road, I would look at Sean and be able to see him in that light, but my heart was still firmly tied to Jonas that any thoughts of indulging in romantic feelings for anyone else felt like betrayal.
I sat in that conclusion for another full day, and then I walked the few feet from my front door to his and knocked.
His footsteps approached the door and then paused. He was looking through the peephole. Sean couldn’t open the door for just anyone.
The locks clicked and ground open, then the door swung in and he stood there, his face apprehensive but softened somehow.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“Of course.”
He stood back and I walked in, going to his living room and the chair that had the most back support. He sat across from me, his smile faint. “I was trying to give you time.”
“I know. And I needed it.” I sat back and looked at him, for the first time allowing myself to see the depth of feeling in his gaze as he watched me. Had it been there all those years ago? Maybe. I couldn’t remember. But I realized it had been there since he’d come to take care of me. It had been there every day, but I hadn’t seen it because I wasn’t ready for it. I still wasn’t ready for it.
“You were right,” I said, staring at my hands as they twisted and clutched in my lap. “You said I had too much going on in my life to be able to deal with…this…and you were right. It’s too soon for me to even think those thoughts. There’s so much…” I rolled my hands in front of me. “So much going on inside of me right now that I can’t identify. Trying to work out if, and when, and how I might feel about you is—”
“I know,” he said. “It’s the very worst time. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to, really. I just thought it was a known factor for both of us. So when you asked, I just answered honestly.” He shrugged.
“I don’t want things to change.” I needed things not to change.
“They won’t. I’m still here for you, Libby. I’m here for what you need, not for what I want.”
It was a relief to hear. It was what he should have said, what was right.
But there was a little part of me that latched on to that last word. Want. And the implication that what he wanted…was me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In all my lonely
Bruised and busy life
The world spun faster
Than my broken heart could fight
But light breaks through
You are
You are
You are
My starlight
Shining my shadow away
Making me want to stay
—Sean Amity
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It took a while for me to regain my sense of equilibrium. I didn’t want to treat Sean any differently, but in trying not to, I did. So I stumbled through the next week, embarrassed half of the time, frustrated other times. Frustrated with myself, not him. I was suddenly self-conscious. Each time he looked at me, I wondered if it meant something more.
Sean, for his part, really did treat me the same. He’d had more practice than I had—years of practice—so it shouldn’t have been surprising. He acted the same, but the things I saw in him were different. I assigned different motivations to his actions than I had before, and that made it more difficult to respond the way I had before. I hadn’t wanted things to change, but there was no going back after a revelation like that.
I did my best though, comforted by the fact that Sean seemed to understand completely that I couldn’t go there with him. Eventually I found my footing, using Sean’s steady presence to anchor me.
He continued to walk in my back door almost every morning. Sometimes he’d bring me a smoothie. Sometimes he’d make me food. Mostly he was just there. My living room was his writing space, where he would pick out melodies on his guitar and scribble notes on a notepad. Half the time he stayed at my house even when I was at work. I think he was more comfortable there—in the home I had made—than in his own temporary housing.
We were sitting on my back porch, drinking iced tea as the sun went down.