Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) - Karen Rose Page 0,155

father had been kicking her.

She knew how conflicted Tom was because he’d been happy when his father was killed in prison. She knew it made him worry that there was a monster inside him, too.

She knew all of this because he’d told her. He’d trusted her with his deepest secrets.

I should have thought of this. “Oh, Tom. You are not your father. You could never be like him. Erase that from your mind, because it never entered mine. I am afraid, but never of you.”

“Then of who?” he asked, his whisper rough and hoarse.

“I’m afraid of myself. Of who I am when I’m near you.” She squared her shoulders. “I’m afraid because you could convince me to come back, to live on the other side of your duplex, where we’d just be friends forever. And that would hurt too much. I’d rather you yelled at me.”

He flinched. “Are we ever going to be friends again?”

God. He was breaking her heart. Because this wasn’t an act. This wasn’t manipulation. This was Liza, taking something away from him that he’d treasured.

He had treasured their friendship. Of that, she’d never had a single doubt.

“Yes, but not right now. I don’t know how to be your friend right now,” she confessed. “But I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

He took another step forward, then another, until the tips of their shoes were millimeters apart. He searched her face before cupping her cheek in his palm.

Warm and strong. Just like he’d always been.

“How long?” he asked.

Knowing she was cracking, she pressed her cheek into his hand. “How long will it take me to figure it out?”

“No. How long have you felt this way?”

She wanted to scream No! She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t have that piece of her. But then his thumb swept across her cheek. It was a tender touch. The touch of a lover.

But he wasn’t and he never would be.

Still, the words came tumbling out. “Since I was seventeen years old.”

He gasped. “You were too young. I was too old.”

“You were twenty, Tom. Not too old. Not that it matters. I’m not seventeen anymore and you’re not twenty, but you still don’t have the same feelings that I do. That’s why I moved out. You’ll never feel the way I do and I can’t live my life wishing that you did. Eventually you’ll meet someone new and you’ll bring her home and . . .” A sob choked her, but Liza forced it back down. “You’ll have a good life,” she finished in a whisper. “Which I really want for you.”

She hadn’t moved her face and he hadn’t moved his hand.

He was staring down at her, his emotions too turbulent for her to read. But then, one emotion rose above the others and the sight stopped her heart. Longing.

She leaned closer and for a brief, shining moment, hope surged. Again.

And then he took a step back. Again. “All right,” he said quietly. “I won’t bother you anymore. Just let me know when you’ve figured out how we can be friends, okay?”

He left the garage, and a few seconds later, she heard Pebbles’s yip and whine, Tom’s deep rumble of chastisement, and then, finally, she heard Rafe’s front door open and close.

She let out the breath she’d been holding and sagged against Sasha’s car. For a few minutes she stood there, breathing. Collecting the pieces of her heart that had shattered. One by one, she rebuilt herself until she could stand firmly on her own two feet.

She had practice doing this. She’d done it before. When her mother had died. When her sister was killed. When she’d held Fritz’s body, his life already having seeped away.

She’d rebuilt her life before. She’d do it again. And because she had a little girl waiting for her in Mercy’s apartment, she forced her feet to move.

She opened the door to find Rafe waiting in the foyer, looking devastated.

He started to speak. “I’m—”

She held up her hand, stopping him with a smile. “It’s all right, Rafe. Tom and I are friends.” It was a lie, but Rafe seemed to believe it. “It’s not the drama you think it is. He yelled at me the other night because he was upset that I hadn’t told him about Fritz until now. He needed to be sure that he hadn’t hurt my feelings.”

“And did he?”

“Nope,” she said with forced cheer. “I’m good.”

“He’ll come back tomorrow to help me with the tables. You can hide anywhere you like.”

“If I’m still