“Sure, but because I’m in such a good mood we’ll pretend there isn’t.”
DENISE KNEW she was going to throw up. Her stomach whirled and spun and flipped as if it were possessed by some gastrointestinal alien. Her palms were damp, her skin clammy. Under any other circumstance, she would have told herself she had the flu and raced home. However, she’d already been hiding for too long and the symptoms had nothing to do with being sick and everything to do with a man.
That explained why she was standing in front of Max’s house. She’d left him two messages, which he hadn’t returned. Her reaction to his proposal made her ashamed of herself. She felt guilty and small. It was not a happy combination. So it was time for her to do something about it.
Drawing in a breath, she rang the doorbell. It would serve her right if Max refused to speak to her, but she was hoping he had more character than she did.
It turned out she was right. He opened the door a couple of seconds later, then smiled at her.
“Thanks for coming by,” he said, holding open the door.
“Aren’t you going to yell at me for my immature reaction?” she asked, walking past him and moving into a bright living room.
There were several sofas, nice wood tables and pretty artwork. If she had to guess, she would say he’d used a decorator. That instantly made her wonder if the decorator had been a woman and if they’d slept together.
“You’ve been doing that for me,” he said.
“What?”
“Yelling at yourself.”
“I have been. I’m sorry. I should have come to see you sooner.”
“Why? You weren’t ready.”
Kind words that made her want to scream. “Don’t be nice. I don’t deserve it.” She held up her hand. “Please. Let me say what I have to say.”
“All right. Do you want to sit down?”
“No. This is a standing-up kind of speech.”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
Her mind went blank. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Nothing. Then the words came in a tumble.
“I’m glad you’re back. I never thought I’d see you again, and here you are. It’s been wonderful, rediscovering what we had. Only it’s different now. Better, I think. I’m older, but you seem to be okay with that.”
“Should I wait until you’re done or comment as you go?”
“Wait until I’m done.” She stared into his blue eyes and knew she had to tell him the truth.
“I loved Ralph so much more than I ever thought I could. He was a good man, a wonderful husband and father. I know people say that all the time, but it’s really true. He loved his kids and he loved me. Sometimes he would ask me if I was sure. If I had regrets. I hated that. Hated knowing he had questions. Because he was the one. I told him I didn’t have regrets, and I hope he believed me.”
She twisted her fingers together. “I remember when I had the girls. It was Christmas morning and the delivery was difficult. I lost a lot of blood. For a while they weren’t sure I was going to make it. I don’t remember very much except Ralph holding my hand, begging me not to die. I could feel his tears on my skin and I knew I had to stay with him. Because we were a family.”
She pressed her lips together. “We weren’t allowed to grow old together and that is my one regret. It’s been ten years and I still miss him. I still wish he were here.”
“I’m not trying to come between you and Ralph,” Max told her.
“I know. But when you walked into my house, I was so happy.” Tears burned in her eyes. “Happier than I should have been.”
“You said it yourself. Ralph’s been gone over ten years. Don’t you think it’s okay to be happy? Do you have to spend your life grieving?”
“I know all this,” she said. “I’ve been in therapy to help me through the stages of grief. I’ve been strong for my children. I’d even convinced myself that it was time for me to find someone of my own. My love for my husband will live on regardless of what I do. Nothing can take that away. But I won’t get married again. I want Ralph to have been the only man I married. He deserves that.”
He crossed to her, but didn’t touch her. “Denise, I proposed because I thought you would be more comfortable if we were married. You’re the kind of woman who gets married. But I don’t need that to love you. Hell, I’ve loved you for nearly forty years. It’s not going away. I want to be with you and you can define that however you want.”
“You’re not mad that I won’t marry you?”
“No.” He touched her face with his fingers. “Love me. Be with me.”
“That’s enough?”
“That’s plenty.”
She flung herself at him. He caught her and pulled her hard against him. Then his mouth was on hers and they were kissing and spinning. Or maybe just the room was spinning. Either way, it was perfect.
When he finally drew back, he brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“Promise me something,” he said.
She nodded.
“Next time, talk to me. Don’t run.”
She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. “I promise. For always, Max.”