Instead of arguing, Lily simply nodded. “All right.”
“I wish I could do more,” he said. Like watch my daughter grow up and share it with the woman I love. “I want to take responsibility for my part.”
“I agree,” she said.
He wanted to say more, but the words jammed in his throat. He knew anything he said now would probably do nothing but get him in deeper than he already was. But, dear God, he didn’t want to leave. He couldn’t imagine turning and walking out that door, never to see either of them again.
He stood there, drinking in the image of the woman he loved more than his own life. He branded the picture of her onto his brain—soft red hair, cautious green eyes, skin as soft as velvet—and reminded himself he would always have his memories of her. They were going to have to be enough.
They would never be enough.
“I’ve got to go,” he heard himself say. “Before I do something we’re both going to regret.”
Taking a final, lingering look at Lily, he turned and started toward the door.
“DON’T GO.”
Lily hadn’t meant to say the words aloud. Her heart had been chanting them like a mantra and somehow they had bubbled to the surface.
Chase stopped before reaching the door, but he didn’t turn to her. Though she couldn’t see his face, Lily saw clearly the war raging within him. The battle between duty and love, right and wrong. Chase lived in a world of black and white. She knew reality’s boundaries were rarely that clear. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was some middle ground they might be able to find.
After a moment, he drew a breath and turned to her. His eyes were shuttered and hard. His mouth pulled into a frown. “I have to go,” he said.
“I’m not finished.”
He went rigid when she started toward him. Lily watched him steel himself against her closeness. Against all the things they’d shared. She knew he loved her. She knew he would always love her. But was love enough?
It devastated her knowing he was willing to walk away to keep her safe. To keep Chassidy safe. That was the kind of man Chase Vickers was. The kind of man who would sacrifice his needs to do the right thing. He was the kind of man she had fallen in love with.
How could he expect her to let him go? Was his work so important that he was willing to sacrifice what they had?
“I don’t think it’s going to help our situation if we draw this thing out,” he said.
She stopped a foot away from him and shook her head. “I never had you pegged as a coward, Vickers, but then this isn’t the first time in the course of our relationship that you’ve surprised me.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“And it’s not the first time you’ve run.” She squared her shoulders. “You’re willing to take on some of the most vicious killers in the world, and yet when it comes to your own daughter and the woman you claim to love, you turn tail and run.”
He looked truly offended. “It’s the only way to keep you safe,” he said. “Look at what we’ve been through.”
“We’ve been through a terrible ordeal I would never want to repeat,” she shot back. “But guess what? There are no guarantees in this life, Chase. Do you think a love like what we share happens more than once?” Raising her hand, she poked him in the chest with her index finger hard enough to send him back a step. “Let me answer that for you with an unequivocal no. There are no guarantees. No safety nets. No insurance policies for tragedy. I know—I’ve seen all of those things in the emergency room. Complete strangers whose misfortunes touch me deeply. Just last week a man with a wife and two kids wrecked his car on his way to play golf. His family never saw him alive again.”
She poked him again and Chase went back another step. “Do you think he was unlucky? No. You want to know who the unlucky people are, Chase? They’re the ones who never find the one great love of their lives.”
Some of her anger leached away and she dropped her hand. “We’re the lucky ones, Chase. We found something special and precious and rare. Now you want to walk away because you think something bad might happen to me or Chassidy?”
“If it’s in my power to keep you safe, then I’m going to do it.”
“At what cost?”
Stepping close to her, Chase gently grasped both her biceps and spoke urgently. “This has nothing to do with personal sacrifice or right or wrong. It has to do with making sure that no one hurts our daughter, and that her mother is alive to raise her.”
“I have a say in the matter.”
“No, you don’t.”
“What about her father, Chase? Doesn’t he count?”
Blinking, he searched her face. “I don’t like this any more than you do. But I’m willing to sacrifice what we have to ensure both of you long and safe lives.”
“Or maybe you’re willing to run away because it’s easier than handing over your heart to us. Maybe it’s easier to walk away from us than it would be for you to walk away from your work.”