“You were supposed to be at those farms, not here staking your territory.”
“Isn’t my presence welcome at the foundation I suggested?” His cool tone slid right through her, coating her bones in ice.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I told you I’m not interested in Todd, so you had no reason to rub his nose in our relationship or pick an argument over his perfectly reasonable advice.”
Alec narrowed his gaze, head tipped to the side. “Would you be comfortable if I hired Colette?”
“That’s completely different.” A vision of the sex siren flashed, making her imagine Alec’s body intertwined with Colette’s. Had he looked at her the way he looked at Colby? Had he held her close at night and whispered in her ear? Had he brought her flowers at work? “I’ve never had sex with Todd.”
“So what? I had sex with Colette, but there were no real feelings.”
His admission filled Colby’s heart with something resembling helium but didn’t stop his chaotic emotions from rolling off him.
“You care about Todd. You trust him, you confide in him. You have a real connection with that man. Sex is nothing compared with those things.”
“You’re being irrational.”
He winced, then grew thoughtful, tapping his palm against the table a few times. At the moment, she didn’t know which scared her more, explosive Alec or quiet Alec. In a soft voice, he muttered, “Well, maybe I wish you’d be a little less rational.”
“Meaning what?” she ventured.
“Meaning I’ve risked a lot, compromised, and pretty much laid my heart bare to you, yet you keep a part of yourself closed up.” He shot out of the chair, raised her right hand, and pinched her wedding band. “I’m sorry to bring up Mark, but he’s the ghost between us I don’t know how to fight. It’s easier to pick on Todd, because he’s here, and it hurts to see you so carefree and chummy with him when you never share how you feel about me.” Following that outburst, he stepped back and raked his hands through his hair. Like an accordion, he folded up on himself. “Sorry. I need a minute.”
He stormed across the room and out the glass doors, heading toward the gazebo.
Colby stood in the middle of the empty restaurant, her body vibrating from shock. An array of images and memories sparkled to life—tulips and silly videos, the reporter’s interrogation, the space Alec had given her after their second “first” kiss, the time he spent with her mother, his confiding in her about Joe, his compromises here at the restaurant. He had laid his heart bare, every day and in every way. All the while, she’d been holding back.
Alec didn’t understand her reticence, because she’d never been honest with him about her marriage.
Without another thought, she trotted through the dining room, spotting him in the gazebo staring out across the lake, like he’d done that first day. Stoic, assessing, hurting. If he heard her coming, he didn’t turn around.
She rested her hand on his back, causing his muscles to flinch. “Alec.”
He turned, his face flushed, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and brushed his cowlick with her fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest from how much she had to say and how scared she was to say it. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I promise, my reserve has nothing to do with you. It’s self-preservation. Todd’s safe because I’m not invested in him. But the closer we get, the more afraid I am that something will go wrong, so I withdraw. I don’t mean to, but after everything I’ve been through, I can’t promise I’ll ever be able to give my whole heart to anyone again.”
She let her hand drop and then eased away, shaken by her own admission.
Alec didn’t stir. He didn’t make the moment easier for her by quickly accepting her confession or offering the warmth of his embrace. If anything, he seemed to withdraw further, gazing back out across the lake. Finally, he uttered, “Because of how Mark left you.”
“Not the way you mean.” How could she explain that her reservations were more than a response to Mark’s suicide? That they had to do with not trusting herself. And maybe no longer trusting in love.
When she closed her eyes, Mark’s face surfaced—his young face. “I met him in the quad outside the law school one April afternoon. He was only there to meet a friend—pure happenstance. If I’d lingered an extra five minutes in the lounge that day, my life would be entirely different today.”
A shiver ran through her. She opened her eyes and gripped the wood railing. Staring at a kayak on the lake, she continued. “Our attraction was instantaneous and blazing hot. You know we eloped three months later despite my parents’ objections. Nothing else mattered to me. I’d just known we were meant to be together. How ridiculous, now, to think that, at twenty-four, I’d been so confident—and careless—with such a life-altering decision.”
Alec looked at her expectantly, waiting for the rest of her story. To some, this might have been easy, but her breathing strained as if she were climbing a wall. She’d never spoken of Mark’s illness to anyone. Truthfully, it hadn’t been just because he’d pleaded for secrecy. Ultimately, she’d been ashamed, too, of how poorly they’d managed it. Of how she’d withdrawn and given up. She stared at Alec now, knowing she had to trust him. Mark hadn’t kept his promises to her, so maybe she wasn’t awful for finally breaking her silence. “I loved Mark, but . . .” She paused, her body heavy with a new doubt. “Honestly, you might think less of me when I tell you everything.”
“That could never happen.” His decisive response came swiftly, even as he kept some distance between them. “You can trust me.”
She eyed him from the side without facing him directly. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she said, “I have so many regrets. Things I wish I would’ve done differently.”
“So do I, Colby.”
She hadn’t meant to make him think of Joe. “Mine often make me question my judgment, because most of my marriage was a lie.”
He blinked, slack-jawed. Apparently, she’d struck Alec dumb.
She leaned her butt against the railing and cleared her throat, hoping to keep her voice from cracking. “Mark knew I was thinking about divorce.”
Alec’s eyes widened. “Because of the dare?”
“No. Before that.” She pressed her palms to her forehead and sensed Alec step closer, as if at war with himself about whether to press her for details or pull her close and hush her. “Life with Mark was difficult. He . . . he was bipolar.”