Duane studied my features only briefly before turning around and walking back to the table, like he couldn’t stand looking at me. I swallowed my emotion, but it continued to rise, making my scalp feel hot and my skin overly tight.
And then I heard his frustrated grumble, “This was a mistake.”
I couldn’t think. All the air had been sucked out of the room. I backed up to the mattress and sunk to it. He was a pendulum and I couldn’t keep up with his perpetual motion mood swings. One minute we’re cuddled up in bed and the next…
“I don’t understand.” I stopped, then decided just to say what I felt. “I don’t understand why you offered me a year when you obviously had no intention of following through. Can you explain that?”
He glanced at me, examining me from over his shoulder. He appeared to be confused by my question, or maybe the vulnerability behind it. Finally, he turned completely around, scratching his beard as he did so.
“Jess…” he started, released a short breath, his face screwed up like I was a lunatic, then began again. “Jessica, I know about your plans.”
“My plans?”
“Your brother told me about your aunt. About the money. About your plans.”
“What?”
“To leave. After Christmas.” These words were stated as cold fact.
“To…Christmas? What?” I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
Duane stopped scratching his beard, but his eyes narrowed, like he was studying my reaction closely. “Your brother, Jackson. He pulled Beau and me over on our way home, Thursday afternoon, right after you and I finished talking. He told me you inherited all the money you’ll ever need for your world travels. He told me you were planning to start after Christmas.”
I blinked twice, shaking my head in an automatic rejection of at least half his words. “Well, that’s a lie.”
Duane straightened, his abruptly wide eyes evidence of his surprise.
I rushed to clarify. “Not all of it. I mean, my…aunt did leave me with money. From the looks of it, and with good investments, enough for me to travel the world and not work if I so decided. But I have no plans to leave Green Valley imminently, and certainly not just after Christmas.”
His eyes dimmed and his mouth flattened. “Why not?”
Now I studied him, how he appeared to be restraining himself, holding himself away from me, and everything clicked. He’d been so cold, so aloof when I’d told him I loved him. He thought I was leaving. He thought I was just going to leave and never come back.
“Wait a minute.” I jumped to my feet, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to decide which part of this tangled mess to address first. “You thought…and then you…and we just…” I gestured to the bed, and decided to settle on my last thought. “So Jackson tells you about the money and you assume things are over between us? Do I mean so little to you? Did you ever want me? Or was that a lie?”
Duane frowned, balled his hands into fists, and said nothing. Yet behind his frown I perceived a restlessness to contradict.
But I wasn’t finished. “Or is this is about you not trusting me? You don’t trust me. And that’s why we made love tonight. You don’t trust me to stay. ‘Just for tonight, Jessica.’ That’s what you said.”
He didn’t deny it. He just continued to watch me piece everything together.
“Admit it! The only reason you gave in tonight is because you thought I was going to leave right away. Now that I can leave, you don’t trust me to stay. You don’t trust me at all.”
“I trust you,” he countered quickly.
I ignored his statement, desperation making me say, “We are far, far from over, Duane Winston!”
“Jess,” he shook his head, looking visibly torn. “We have an expiration date. In fact, we are over. I don’t see where we go from here. You’re going to be making plans to leave. We had this trial period before the twelve months started and I’m calling it off.”
“You don’t get to call it off!” I charged forward, waving my index finger around like it was a sword.
“I am calling it off. I’m walking away because I’m not going to keep you from doing what you need to do.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Leave.”
I flinched again; my next words were accusatory, half outraged question and half statement. “You want me to leave?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m in love with you. Why don’t you ask me to stay?” I demanded with a frustrated shout and a firm push against his chest.
“You don’t ask someone you love to give up on her dreams!”
I reeled back, my mouth falling open—wide, wide open—and I’m sure I looked a bit like an astonished owl. Two fat tears trailed down my cheeks, hot and unwieldy.