“You kept tabs on me?” he asked, his heart throbbing with this knowledge.
“Not really,” she whispered. “Just a little.”
“I would’ve kept tabs on you too, darlin’, if I’d only known where to look.”
She turned to him, rubbing her eyes with exasperation before nailing him with a glare. “What is this?”
“Two friends catchin’ up?”
“We’re not friends, Erik,” she said. “We never were.”
“I disagree,” he said. “We were lots of things to each other, but I believe we were friends too.”
“And is that what you want now?” she snapped. “To suddenly revive an old friendship?”
He clenched his teeth together and swallowed the words he wanted to say: No, darlin’. I want to jump across this fiery barrier and pull you into my arms. I want to kiss you again the way I’ve dreamed for six long years. I want you to know that I still love you. I want you to tell me there’s still a chance for us. And then I want to carry you downstairs to my bed and make love to you the way we should have made love that night long ago.
He licked his lips. “I told you. I want to know why you broke up with me.”
She leaned all the way back into the cushions, grabbing a shearling blanket from the back of the couch and covering her body with it.
“I went to the hospital to find you, to comfort you,” he continued. “But you were so . . . I mean, did I do somethin’? Because one minute we were spendin’ the night together, and the next minute you hated me. Why?”
She took her time arranging the blanket before looking up at him. “I didn’t hate you.”
He flinched. “I don’t understand.”
“When . . .,” she started, but her voice broke. She cleared her throat, wetting her lips and pressing them together for a moment before continuing. “When I went home that morning—that morning after we were together—my father was waiting for me on the dock at our house. My sisters were there. My oldest sister, Issy, she’d come by the night before to check on me, and when I didn’t come home from work, she radioed my father. He came back early from crabbing, rousing the whole island to search for me.”
Her face was shattered as she shared her story, and Erik’s heart was gripped in a vise as he waited to hear how things played out. Even without hearing the words, he knew that they’d played out very, very badly.
She swallowed, staring at the fire as she continued. “I docked the boat, and my father followed me inside the house, yelling at me, demanding to know who I’d been with, where I was. I wouldn’t tell him. He was getting more and more upset, saying he’d hunt you down and force you to make it right.”
“Laire,” groaned Erik, leaning forward, wishing he could sit next to her but knowing it probably wouldn’t offer her any comfort.
“He was getting more and more upset. And then . . . then . . .”
Tears streamed down her face as she lifted her feet to the couch, clutching her knees to her chest.
“He had a heart attack,” finished Erik, all the pieces falling neatly into place. “He had a heart attack, and you blamed yourself for it.”
“And you!” she cried, raising her head to look at him, her face shattered. “We did that to him! We were careless and selfish. We caused it. You! And me! We almost killed my father!”
He winced at her words, letting them imbue the facts with her point of view. She hadn’t just blamed herself. She’d blamed him too. That’s why . . . that’s why . . .
“That’s why you pushed me away,” he murmured, staring into her eyes. “You held me responsible.”
“Yessss,” she sobbed. “And me. Both of us. We didn’t deserve to be happy when he was lyin’ there at death’s door!”
“Darlin’, it wasn’t—”
“Our fault? Yes, it was! There’s no way around it. I was out all night with you, and he had a heart attack as a result. Those are the facts.”
“Laire,” he whispered, sitting on the edge of his seat. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“I thought he was going to die,” said Laire. “He was in a coma for two weeks. At one point, right before you came to see me, I told God I’d give you up. I’d give up what I loved most if He would spare my father’s life.”
“So you did,” said Erik, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “Instead of talkin’ to me or lettin’ me comfort you, you gave me up. You pushed me away.”
“My father was dying and we caused it,” she said. “I didn’t deserve any comfort, Erik . . . especially not from you.”