by Donna Fasano
She had to make a clean break from Derrick. That was crystal clear in her mind.
But how could she do it without telling him the truth? How could she stop seeing him without utterly humiliating herself?
Chapter 10
The classroom was a disaster area. From her desk, Anna surveyed the damage. Sure, the children had tried to clean up after themselves, but there were wadded napkins on the floor and several crumpled paper cups that had been missed. She saw bits of leftover pizza crust on the back worktable, and the drips of sticky juice residue here and there on the floor indicated that she'd have to borrow a mop from the school custodian.
She couldn't believe she'd allowed her students to leave the room in this condition. The fact that she had let them go to their physical education class, leaving the room in such a mess, was confirmation of just how upset and preoccupied she was regarding what she knew she had to do.
"Those kids are great."
Derrick. The sound of his name echoing in her head made her feel terribly sad. Yet at the same time the anxiety roiling inside her had her nerves on edge. She looked over at him.
She had to tell him she couldn't see him anymore. She had to do it today. Right now.
"Hey, are you awake over there?" he asked, his tone silky soft.
He'd been leaning on the doorjamb, looking at her, she guessed. The children had just left, and she could hear the gym teacher shushing them as he herded them down the hall.
"Yes," she answered. "I heard what you said. And you were great with the kids. I really mean that."
He smiled, and she felt her heart twist painfully.
She didn't want to do this. He'd made her feel like no other man had. But she simply couldn't let it go on. Not for another minute.
"We need to talk, Derrick," she said.
He frowned as he came toward her. "I hope you're planning on telling me what's wrong."
"What?" Her eyes widened.
"You don't think I noticed?" he asked. "You don't think I could tell something happened? That you shut yourself off from me somewhere during the pizza-making process?"
His questions were asked in a light, almost breezy manner. It was as though he sensed the heavy cloak of depression that hovered over them and he wanted to lighten it. He'd meant for her to laugh. But the sorrow inside her mingled with apprehension, creating an emotion too overwhelming to allow for laughter or jokes.
"In fact, this isn't the first time this has happened," he continued. "It seems that every time we start having fun, something happens in that beautiful head of yours and, well, all the fun is suddenly lost." He stopped in front of her desk.
She looked up at him, her gaze steady. "I can't see you anymore."
There, she thought, it's out in the open. She'd said it. Her voice might have been as tight and pitchy as an overstretched guitar string, but at least the statement had been made.
His entire demeanor altered right before her eyes; his shoulders squared, his chin tipped upward, the muscle at the back of his jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth. His body language shouted aggression.
"Why?"
She got up, rounded her desk and made her way down one aisle of neatly arranged desks.
"I told you at the very beginning that this wasn't a good idea," she said. She bent down and snatched a balled-up napkin from where it lay on the floor under a chair.
"I know you did," he said. "I remember the moment very clearly. But I thought we had gotten beyond that."
She turned to face him. "No, Derrick. I didn't get beyond it." Then her voice softened. "You just... blinded me for a while."
"I blinded you? So this is my fault?"
His tone was sharp and louder than Anna would have liked.
"Tell me what I did wrong, Anna. I'd like to know."
She hurried to the door and closed it so they couldn't be overheard.
"Look," she said, keeping lots of distance between them. It was easy to do since he hadn't moved an inch from her desk. "I don't want to fight about this, Derrick. I don't even want to argue. It's not your fault. Not in the least. You didn't do anything wrong. I just need you to know that I... I can't see you anymore."
He was silent, and Anna went down another aisle, absently picking up two cups that had been kicked aside. Moving toward the back of the room, she tossed the cups and the napkin into the wastebasket.
Facing him was something she couldn't seem to do, so she busied herself at the worktable wiping up bits of green pepper and cheese with a large sponge.
"Anna."
His hands on her shoulders made her jump, and she gasped as he said her name.
"It's true that I've only known you for a few weeks..."
She was relieved that he didn't move to turn her around. She grabbed the table edge for emotional support, clenching the sponge in one tight fist. If she wasn't careful, Derrick would cause her to lose herself in the chaos swirling in her head.
"But you're an intelligent woman. You're smart enough to recognize that there's something between us. Something special. I saw it from the very beginning. And I know you did too."
Hot tears burned behind her eyelids. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't! She had to get through the rest of the day. The rest of her life.
Please don't do this to me, she silently begged. Please don't make me tell you things that will make you change how you feel about me. The last thing I want is to have you pitying me.
She strained against the pressure of his hands as he turned her to face him, but finally she had to surrender. Her lids felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds as she raised her eyes to meet his.
"We have something special," he told her, almost as a proclamation. "Something that doesn't come along between two people very often. We'd be fools to let it go, unexplored." His whole face softened. "Wouldn't we?"
Lie, her brain frantically ordered. Tell him he means nothing to you. Tell him you feel nothing.
A sudden anger sparked in his eyes. "Don't you dare deny that everything I've said is the truth." His gaze narrowed. "I'm not some moron—"
"Okay, okay," she whispered. She hated the ire she saw in his face. "I'm not denying anything."
Her words seemed to make him relax, but only a little. The energy wavering in the room was still volatile, like silent, pulsing heat lightning just waiting to unleash its pent-up power.
"But," she said, "that doesn't change the fact that I can't see you anymore." She spoke slowly, her words measured and firm.
His head tilted a fraction to one side. "Haven't you heard anything I've said?"
"I've heard everything you said, Derrick," she assured him.
"Then you don't agree with me. You don't think this thing that's between us is special." He laughed harshly. "Our time in the park was just a cheap thrill for you. It meant nothing."
Now it was her turn to be swept away by an all-consuming anger. "Of course not! It meant everything!"
The two short sentences had come out in a vicious, unstoppable stream. She hadn't meant to say them, but Derrick, and the fury he'd stirred in her, had forced the words from the very depths of her soul.
"Then why, Anna? Why?"
"Just because!" She broke away from him and took a side step. The sponge she clutched fell to the floor, forgotten.
She crossed her arms over her chest protectively. She wanted badly to run away from him. To run away from the situation. The very last thing she wanted was to look at him, because she knew what she would see in his strong, handsome face. But she was like a moth, he, a flame, and her gaze was drawn to him literally against her will.
His forehead was creased with confusion and pain—emotions that she was inflicting. He didn't understand the motivation behind her actions, and the bewilderment she left him with was wounding him terribly.
She didn't mean to hurt him. She'd never intended for him to suffer from knowing her. All she'd meant to do was protect herself.
Anna couldn't stand the thought of causing Derri
ck pain of any kind, and she knew she could easily ease the torment she read in his eyes. By making him understand.
The only way she could do that, she realized, was to be completely and totally honest with him. And that meant opening herself up, making herself vulnerable to the anguish and disgust she knew in her heart he would feel when he discovered the truth about her.
But she finally decided Derrick was worth it.
"You made me feel... wonderful," she began, her words halting and difficult, grating with thick emotion. "Too wonderful." Then the sentences seemed to pour from her. "We've gotten too close. Much too fast. You made me feel things I shouldn't feel, Derrick. You've become too important. I do nothing but think about you. You've come to mean too much. Being with you feels… too good."
He shook his head slowly. "Maybe I'm thick or something, but I think those are perfect reasons for us to be together. We have gotten close. But, too close? I don't think so." He moved a step toward her. "And, Anna, you made me feel things too. Wonderful things." He reached out to her. "I know this has all happened fast. But you want to hear something crazy? I think I might be falling in love with you, Anna."
"Oh, dear God," she gasped, backing away. "Don't say that!"
There was a rushing wave of sound in her ears, as though a freight train was coming right at her. She felt like sanity was slipping away, and she scraped and clawed at it, holding tight with the tips of her fingernails.
"What is it, Anna? What's the matter?"
She felt his hand on her arm. "No," she snapped, jerking from him.
Her eyes were wide open, her hands clenched tight enough that her nails bit into her flesh, as she realized that she, too, was falling in love. Deeply in love. Suddenly the desks, chairs, cabinets, the whole classroom, seemed to take on a surreal, almost cartoonish, feel.
"Can't you see," she blurted, tears springing to her eyes. "I never meant for us to fall in love, Derrick. I only meant to help you. With Timmy. I knew that we shouldn't go out. I knew that there was something about you... something I should stay away from. But I didn't listen to my own protective instincts. I let this happen. I allowed myself to be swept away. I didn't think. I didn't want to think."
She was losing her mind. She'd already lost it!
"I enjoyed being with you so very much. I didn't want to think about ending it. Even though I knew I would have to. I tried not to get too involved. There were times when I was sure I could snip off what I was feeling like a loose string. But it just kept unraveling." She looked at him, knowing full well that the madness she was feeling was clearly showing in her eyes and in her tone. "And then I saw you here today. With the children. You're wonderful with Timmy. You're going to do such a great job of raising him."
Tears scalded a path down her cheeks, and she let them fall unheeded as she whispered, "You'll make a wonderful father, Derrick. A wonderful father."
Her throat burned as if she'd gulped scalding tea. She went quiet. Surely she'd said enough. He had to understand now. He simply had to.
However, it didn't take her long to realize that he didn't.
"I hope I can be everything that Timmy needs," he said, clearly baffled by all that she'd said. "I sure love that kid, that's for sure. I'm going to do everything in my power to see he has a good life. To be the best father figure I can be. But why should that matter—"
"I didn't say father figure, Derrick," she snapped, her frustration showing. "I said father. You'll make a wonderful father."
He studied her for one silent, intense moment.
Finally he lifted his hands into the air, palms up. "I'm sorry, Anna. I know you're trying to say something important here. But whatever point you're making is going right over my head. I'm lost."
She raked shaking fingers through her already tousled hair. Her insides were dull and lifeless. The nervousness and agitation she'd felt just moments before seemed to have seeped from her, leaving behind an empty shell.
"I'll never be a mother." Her voice held a flat, monotone sound.
"Of course you will," he quickly assured her. "You'll make a great mom."
"You're not listening," she said, her voice dagger sharp. "I'll never be a mother, Derrick, because I can't have children. If we were to stay together, I couldn't give you children. And if there's one thing I've learned today—" A sob escaped from her throat, a sob that shocked and astonished her because she'd felt certain there was no emotion—nothing—left inside her. "—it's that you should have children," she finished.
A tidal wave of pure, unadulterated panic swept over her. If she saw scorn and rejection on this man's face, it would kill her. In a last desperate act of self-preservation, Anna hurried to the front of the classroom, flung open the door and ran away from Derrick, doing her best to choke back her tears with every step.
* * *
The breeze blowing across the bay held the chill of true autumn. Derrick had hoped that taking the boat out for a short sail would help to clear his mind. But it seemed that chaos was determined to reign supreme.
He'd told Anna that he was falling in love with her. He'd had no idea whatsoever that he was going to say such a thing when he'd gone into school earlier today. But when she'd ambushed him like she had, announcing that she didn't want to see him anymore, he'd scrambled for some way to change her mind. His declaration of love had been a secret weapon he hadn't even known he'd possessed, until the sentence had tumbled out of his mouth.
After he'd said the words, however, he'd felt glad about it. Glad that Anna knew how he felt.
He thought back on it, realizing that she had been as surprised by his intimate profession as he had been. More so, in fact. He wanted to close his eyes, but that wouldn't block out the image of the anguish his loving disclosure had caused her. It had ripped him apart inside to see her suffering through an obvious onslaught of emotion all because of something he'd said.
He hadn't understood what was happening at the time. She'd been upset and the thoughts she'd expressed hadn't been cohesive. At first, it had seemed that she'd found the idea of his loving to be horrifying. The way she'd reacted, backing away from him, her beautiful eyes wide.
Piecing the whole picture together had completely defeated him. Until she'd revealed her secret. That she…
No! He literally turned his head from the notion, unable just yet to bring himself to think about what she'd told him.
There was something that Anna had said, though, that had actually given him a pleasant jolt. He smiled now as he remembered the roundabout way in which she'd proclaimed her own feelings for him.
I never meant for us to fall in love.
She hadn't said that she'd never meant for him to fall in love with her. No. She used the word us. Us—meaning her as well as him.
What Anna had revealed to him was that she, too, had fallen in love.
She'd fallen in love. With him.
The idea made him grin like a complete and total idiot!
But the afternoon had come to such an awful end. Derrick didn't have to concentrate hard to bring up a mental picture of how Anna had looked just seconds before she'd bolted out the door. Her eyes had been wide, and they had held a wild, frantic, almost captured look. She'd fought the tears, struggled to keep them at bay, but he'd seen them just the same. Her soft, peachy complexion had become pale and taut, and at the very end, even tortured.
Derrick had wanted to snatch her to him, to hold her close and calm her fears. But she would never have allowed that. Anna was too strong a woman to lean on any man. Yet he felt he could have comforted her, if only she would have let him.
Suddenly, helplessly, he found his thoughts turning to kids. Having children of his own. Raising a family.
Before Timmy had come into his life, he hadn't given children much thought at all. But his godson had changed that. He certainly had. Timmy had shown him life from a brand-new perspective. The boy depended on him, and that had made Derrick feel capable and responsible and proud in a way that no "job" eve
r could. Of course, that responsibility had scared the hell out of him and humbled him. But the love he felt for Timmy swelled his heart near to bursting. Even after having the child in his life such a short amount of time, Derrick couldn't imagine life any other way. He couldn't conceive of going back to his solitary life-style. Timmy was a part of his existence, a part of him, and he loved the boy dearly. Nothing on heaven or earth could further deepen his feelings for the child—not even if, by some fantastic miracle, he could magically become Timmy's real father.
He thought of the other members of The Club. Jason had Gina, and Reece had Jeffrey. The two men had kids of their own. Kids that they had fathered. With women they had loved. Derrick wondered what that would be like. To share something so very intimate, so very beautiful, with that one special woman in the world who meant everything to you.
Derrick tried to imagine himself with a wife—a pregnant wife. What would it feel like to slide his palm over her swollen belly? How would he react to feeling his son or daughter kick for the first time? What would it be like to witness the miracle of the birth of his child?
From what he'd discovered today, the woman he loved couldn't offer him those experiences. Anna couldn't have children. This was the first time since leaving the school that he'd been able to mentally voice the words.
Heaving a deep sigh, he tacked the boat across the bay and steered toward home.
His analytical brain whispered to him that Anna couldn't give him everything he wanted in a partner.
But his heart told him that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
Logic told him it was impossible to really and truly love someone he'd known for such a short amount of time.
But his heart told him that nothing was impossible. Nothing.
Another miserable sigh rumbled up from deep in his chest. What the hell was he going to do? And after thinking back on how adamant Anna had been about not seeing him, he couldn't help wondering if there was anything he could do.
