he would leave, but when she had, she’d tried to believe she’d somehow be strong. Insouciant, even. Able to celebrate her fortune in having had him in her life for the time they’d been together.
All true. But she hadn’t envisioned curling into a sobbing mess while being confronted with the finality of it.
“Melody, I—”
“I guess I didn’t think it would happen so soon. You’re right, maybe we should have talked more about what was coming.” Almost by silent agreement, they’d never discussed at what point he wouldn’t be needed in Hamilton any longer. She just thought it would be a point far away. “We haven’t even started with the first phase yet.”
“It’s no’ that. I’d hoped to stay longer.”
“Is something wrong? Back in Dublin?”
“Not wrong, just ... complicated. All business matters, no worries, no’ anything personal. But ... I’m needed there.”
“For how long?”
He simply looked at her, his eyes growing increasingly more miserable.
“You’re not coming back?” She barely choked out the words. “But—” She cut herself off. But what? What had she expected? She’d known this. It was her own fault they hadn’t prepared themselves better for it. She could have asked, could have made it a part of their ongoing discussion.
But she’d been too busy enjoying her little dreamworld. It had been enough harsh reality dealing with the fact that her town was going to morph into a miniature Disney World before her very eyes. She’d told herself she deserved to have some fun while she could.
Stupid, stupid plan.
“Melody,” Griffin repeated, taking her face in his hands. “You’ll recall I didn’t come in here unhappy.”
“You’re much better than me at putting on your happy face. We both know that.”
“It wasn’t a put-on face. I was a man with a plan when I walked in here. It was your very happy face lighting up when I walked in that removed any doubt I might have had about my plan.”
“Plan?”
“I don’t want to leave you. That smile, the way you instantly light up for me, I don’t want to get to the end of my day and not have that waiting. My days have always been planned around work, as were more of my nights than not. What brought me joy was success in business. Now, I get to experience that through the day, with the knowledge that when that day’s work is done, I’ll double that joy by coming home and sharing it with you.”
He’d said “coming home,” she noted in some distant part of her brain that wasn’t buzzing loudly with panic. She tried desperately to quiet it so she could hear what he was saying to her. Had he realized what he’d said? Did he know the rush of pleasure that sentiment brought to her?
“I’m not sure how I ever thought my life was full. I decided, long ago, that relationships weren’t something I was made for. I never wanted them.” He pulled her closer. “But I believe I was made for you. And I want this. I want you.”
“Griffin,” she whispered, looking into eyes glowing with what he’d claimed he’d seen in her own. If she hadn’t been so worried, so confused, and trying so hard to stave off the crushing avalanche of grief she knew was coming her way, she’d have felt the warmth of it all the way to her toes. “You’re . . . leaving. I don’t understand.”
“Why do you think I’ve been trying to talk you into expanding your shop globally?”
“I don’t want to run an empire. That’s your job. I want to bake.”
“I know. I’m hardheaded, and also so out-of-my-head besotted with you, that I clearly haven’t been thinking straight. But I do listen. I do.”
He’d said besotted—which was a lot like love. And exactly how she felt about him. Only she’d never told him. Because they didn’t talk about that. Should she tell him now? Would it make a difference?
All she knew was that she felt better. Knowing. So she had to think he would, too.
“I know what you mean,” she said, surprising him. “About not thinking clearly. I’m having a hard time, right now, thinking at all, because I can’t even stand the idea of not seeing you. Ever. I’m . . .” She faltered, not because she was scared to say it, but because she was scared to feel it. But silence wasn’t going to make the feelings go away. “Griffin, if anyone had told me, that morning when I found you behind the counter, that you’d consume my