Third Life - Noelle Adams Page 0,76

really appreciated them, Richard. And I’m so glad of what you’re doing here.”

“You’re not mad that it’s in Boston?”

“No. I understand you were already in talks and you’d started... seeing yourself here. I appreciate your giving me space though. I needed it.”

“I know you did.”

It’s so strange to talk to him again. Strange that he’s still exactly the Richard I’ve always known with his soft, husky voice. His careful articulation. His clever blue eyes—maybe a little softer than they usually were before.

“How have you been, Gillian?” he asks at last, when I can’t think of anything to say.

I shrug. “I’ve been okay. Working a lot. Trying to date.”

He gives me a quick look, but whatever he first felt is reined in almost immediately. “Any luck with that?” he asks so carefully light that it’s almost delicate.

“Not really. I did try, but I’m not... I’m not ready.”

He nods. He’s relieved. I can see it although he’s trying to hide it.

“What about you?” I ask in a thready voice that’s not like me at all.

He narrows his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I mean I don’t know. I know you still... have feelings...” God, I’m such a fool. I can’t even get a full sentence out.

“I’m in love with you, Gillian. I’m not going to date anyone else. I don’t want to, and it would be very unfair to whomever I was trying to date.”

Licking my lips, I nod to acknowledge what he’s said. “I know. I’m sorry. But I didn’t know... I mean, you might have just...”

“Had casual sex?” He shakes his head. “Gillian, I can’t believe you don’t already know this, but I haven’t had sex with anyone but you since that first night we spent together.”

I jerk. Visibly. That’s how surprised I am. “What?”

“You are surprised. Of course you are. That’s the kind of man I was. But ever since that first time, there’s been no one else for me. Even when I was trying to convince myself what we had was just casual, I couldn’t work up any interest in anyone else. It’s just been you.”

“Richard.” I don’t know what I’m trying to say with his name. It comes out as a hoarse plea.

He gives his little shrug. “And if you tell me for sure that there’s no hope for us in the future, maybe that will change. Maybe I’ll be able to get over you?” Again, his tone lifts on the last word in almost a question. “But I don’t really think so. I’ll be forty-seven next month, and I’ve been in love only once in all that time. I think this is probably it for me. Don’t look like that. I’m not asking for sympathy. I messed things up. I know I did. But I also got the chance to know you. To love you. And that’s more than I ever imagined I’d get.”

A couple of tears slide down my cheeks. “I wish I could...”

“Gillian, don’t. Don’t say anything you think I want to hear, just because you think I want to hear it. I really do understand. And I think... I think I’m doing okay.”

“You’re doing better than okay,” I say, trying to clear the emotion from my throat. “I’m so glad you still decided to... to...”

“To be better. To be the man you saw in me. I’m going to keep trying to be him even if you never want to talk to me again.” The words linger in the air, surrounding me, filling me. Then he dispels the tension with a little quirk of a smile. “But I hope you’ll talk to me again. If you like your coffee, you should come to get another one someday.”

“I will. I work in coffee shops sometime. I could work here occasionally.”

“I would love that. And I wouldn’t even talk to you if you don’t want me to. I might look at you occasionally, but I’m not sure I could help that.” He twitches his eyebrows, making what I’m sure is a real sentiment into something easy, almost playful.

I laugh and reach out to touch his sleeve. “I will. I feel better about things now. Better than I have since London.”

“Me too.”

“Okay.” I take a sip of my drink and then stand up. “I’m going to go now. Only because I still feel like I might burst into tears. But I’ll come back. I’ve got to go out of town for work on Monday, but I should be back before the end of the week. I might come