“I’m glad.” Grace folded her hands in front of her. “I think it’ll make your relationship stronger, going through this.”
Mal swallowed and stuffed down the hurt that tried to rise up just from talking about it. It was over. Travis had come back to her. That was enough. But her lungs felt tight and she focused on the Pilates breathing that had seemed so easy only thirty minutes earlier.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Mal practically choked on the word. “We’re back together and everything is fine.”
Grace nodded slowly.
“As for the other stuff,” she waved a hand, “I just feel like it’s all better left in the past. It’ll just bring up hurt feelings.” The fact that Travis hadn’t been there for her—that he’d had another woman in his arms an hour after their official breakup—well, that wasn’t worth talking about. Her brothers would be angry. So would her parents. And it would confuse her own feelings. So, really, sweeping it all to the side was the best way to move forward. Best for everyone.
Grace didn’t speak, just cocked her head to the side and studied her. Mal tried not to shift under her insightful gaze. Grace had seen plenty of relationships, often at their most stressful times, as couples orchestrated their wedding day, and she well knew the ones that could handle the strain and the ones that snapped. Maybe not immediately, but at some point. When there just wasn’t enough something there. Love, respect, compromise. Maybe all of those and more.
Mal ignored the shiver that ran a cold finger along the back of her neck. She and Travis had had all of that. They’d walked through trouble and still come out together. Okay, so it had taken a long time and more than a year of living apart, but they’d gotten there in their own time.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to think any deeper than that.
“It’s not stuff, Mal.” Grace’s voice was gentle, but her eyes were insistent. “It’s important. You didn’t just break up for no reason.”
No, they’d broken up because she’d needed to come back to Vancouver permanently. Because when she’d needed him, he’d chosen business. But that was then. Things were different now, right?
“Have you and Travis talked about what happened?”
Mal swallowed, trying to down the stone that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat. It didn’t move. “I don’t see the need to dwell in the past.”
Was her voice croaky? Or did it just sound that way in her head? She gave a small cough in an attempt to clear it.
“I don’t either.” Grace’s face was composed, but then she wasn’t the one reliving an incredibly painful scene from her past. “Just so long as you’re not ignoring it.”
“Why? Do you think we’ll be doomed to repeat it?” She tried to play it off as a laugh, but the stone dropped into her stomach. She was awash in heavy materials that threatened to weigh her down, to tug her head under.
“I think doomed is a little dramatic.” And Grace’s easy smile went a long way toward appeasing Mal’s concerns. “I’ll support whatever you choose, but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t mention it. I do think that what happened was powerful. Powerful enough that it split you apart for over a year.”
“Because we were living on opposite sides of the continent.” They hadn’t even shared the same landmass. And she knew just how much Travis had longed for a place of his own, how proud he’d been of achieving it. She hadn’t been able to take that away from him, couldn’t ask that of him.
“That’s not why you weren’t together.” Grace reached over and patted her hand. “I’m glad to see you happy and I want you to stay that way. But these types of things have a tendency to come up if they’re never really dealt with.”
Mal was sure that Grace had actual empirical evidence. She’d seen couples who, in the midst of planning what should have been a celebration to start their lives together, imploded, spewing hurt and fear all over each other, against each other, instead of standing with each other. “So you don’t think I’ve dealt with it.”
“I don’t know. I do know that you’ve kept it all a secret from your family when you generally share everything.”
“I didn’t want to ruin the friendship between Travis and Owen.” It was her standard line—the one she’d been repeating to herself since the breakup.
“I don’t think that’s the only reason.”
Mal didn’t think so, either, but it was an uncomfortable thought and one she didn’t feel like analyzing in a café. Or maybe anywhere.
“We don’t need to talk about it.” Grace gave her hand another comforting pat. “But I’m always around to listen.”
Always. It seemed as though Mal was hearing that word a lot these days. She nodded. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s unfounded.” She put in a little effort to ensure her voice sounded firm and confident, more so than her quivering insides might indicate. “I’m fine. Everything with Travis is fine.” She even managed a smile, though unlike the ones earlier, this one felt weak and forced, as though it would slip off her lips if she dropped her guard for even a moment.
And Mal wondered if she’d traded one type of hurt for another. She looked at the table for a moment, her eyes following the grain of the wood, the corners that had been rounded slightly to prevent scraping or injury. She was feeling a little scraped herself.
Had she been right in the first place? To block Travis out of her life completely? Because it felt as if it was all or nothing. Either they were together or they could never be in the same room at the same time again. The cold finger traced down her spine this time, followed by the fearful thump of her heart.
Did Grace think she was making a mistake? Would everyone agree? Was she?
Mal looked at Grace and she could feel the little furrow between her eyes. “You didn’t say anything to Owen, did you?” She had this sudden image of her brother storming over to see Travis. Demanding redress as though her honor was at stake and her marriageable status ruined.
“No.” Grace’s voice didn’t waver. “I’ve kept that between us and I’ll continue to do so.”
Mal eased out a breath. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Owen going to battle on her behalf. She knew her brother well enough to know he wouldn’t back down even though Travis could hold him off with one hand and pummel him with the other.
“But, Mal.” Mal looked up into Grace’s clear blue eyes. There was worry there and a shade of disappointment that didn’t sit well. “I think you need to consider why you’re keeping it a secret. Why you’re hiding it if you are truly past it. And who are you hiding it from?”
The fact that Grace’s tone never rose, never filled with an impassioned plea, only made her words all the more powerful. And Mal wondered if the person she’d really been hiding from was herself.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TRAVIS WAS HAVING a good week, a good month. In fact, it was shaping up to be a good year. He’d been invited back to dinner with the Ford family twice by Mal. And he’d spent most nights in her bed as well as her arms.
He hadn’t dared to dream when he’d decided to come back to Vancouver that things would end up this way, but he wasn’t one to question his good fortune. No, he was a man to appreciate what had come to him and enjoy it to its full advantage. Which meant back massages and new coffeemakers, pancakes in bed and whispered words under the cover of night.
Mal hadn’t said the words yet, but Travis sensed they were coming, that they were working their way toward him, and after all that had passed, he was content to wait. They’d only been back together a few short weeks, there was no need to rush. They had an entire lifetime ahead of them.
Travis rode up the elevator to Mal’s apartment after work. She still hadn’t given him his own key or fob swipe to enter the building, but he sensed it would be soon, too. Everything was heading that way.
He was dusty from being on site all day and there was a hole in the hem of his jeans where it had gotten caught on a nail. But he had clothes stored at Mal’s, and after a quick shower he’d be ready to go.
“Hello, babe.” He pulled her into his arms and gave her a long and thorough kiss.
She squirmed for a moment. “Travis. You’re getting me all dirty.” Then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back.
“You dry clean all your suits, anyway,” he pointed out and then kissed her again.
“Not after one wearing.” But she didn’t look upset and she didn’t let go, either. “And you got it on my hands and face, too.”
“Oh, no.” Travis pretended concern. “Guess you’ll have to join me in the shower to wash off.”
“All part of your evil plan?” she asked as he steered them down the hall toward the clean white tile of her master bathroom.
“I wouldn’t say evil. More like inspired.” He kissed her once more and then proceeded to strip both of them out of their clothes.
He washed her thoroughly. It was only right, considering he was the reason she had to take a shower in the first place. And as the warm water ran down his body and Mal melted against him, sated and satisfied, he felt his heart expand. There was so much joy, so much love, he sometimes felt as if he couldn’t contain it. But every time he wondered if there was too much to handle, more space seemed to open up. It wasn’t a finite chamber, but one that swelled and grew to admit all the love he gave and received.
And as he lay in bed that night, his belly full of Chinese takeout, his arms full of Mal and his heart full of happiness, he wondered if it really was possible for one man to be so lucky. If it wasn’t, he didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to tarnish this great gift he’d been given.
“Babe?” His lips barely moved, pressed against the crown of her head.
“Hmm?” Mal shifted. Her body was heavy against his, weighted with sleep, as was her voice.
“I love you.”
She didn’t answer, but he felt her smile and she snuggled more closely against him. For now, that was enough. Travis felt his heart grow a little larger. “I think we should get married.”
Clearly, this was what they had been moving toward and Travis saw no point in waiting. He loved her. He knew she loved him, even if she’d yet to verbally confirm it.
He felt her jerk beside him, her whole body growing stiff. “Pardon?”
“I love you.” He looked into her eyes, loving what he saw there. Loving her. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, starting now.”
She blinked at him in the dim light. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m not joking.” Though he supposed he should have actually bought a ring before popping the question. He had a ring. One he’d purchased back before they’d ever broken up. But he didn’t want to use that ring. It was the old them and they were starting fresh. He hoped. “I told you that I wanted to start our lives together.”
“I didn’t think you meant tonight.” He noticed that she still hadn’t said yes. Of course, she hadn’t said no, either...
“Why not?” He ignored the ache circling his chest, pressing down and preventing him from drawing a full breath.
“Because.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Just because.”
“Why wait?” His gram’s death had taught him that life could be short. Okay, fine. His gram had lived to a ripe old age, but there were things he still hadn’t done with her. Things he’d missed out on. He wouldn’t let that happen with Mal. A sentiment his gram would have loved.
“Travis.” She was trying to look strong, but he saw the quiver of her lower lip. He wanted to kiss it away, but he was still waiting on that yes. “You can’t just spring this on me.”
“I’m not.” Because while he might not have put together the list of details, ensuring a trail of flower petals or whatever it was that Mal thought should be part of a proposal, he felt as though they’d been working toward this moment ever since Owen’s wedding. “Can you honestly say this comes as a surprise? Did you really think I didn’t mean marriage when I said I loved you?”
Her eyes darted to the side. “No, but we’ve only been back together a little while.”
“It’s long enough.”
She looked back at him. He could see the uncertainty in her gaze. She wanted to say yes, he could see the hope flashing out, but it was marred by something else, something that made his insides cold and he reached for her hands.
“I’m all in, Mal.”
“I know.”
“Are you?” The words nearly stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. He needed to know, needed her to admit that this was more than just dating, more than just seeing if they could work things out. This was all or nothing.
She tilted her head. “Are you sure this isn’t just because of your grandma’s death?”
“It’s not.” He gave her hands a tug for emphasis. “This is about us.”
Mal slipped her hands free and clasped them in front of her. Travis could see the knuckles turning white. “I wasn’t expecting this, Travis.”
“Give me an answer.”
Her mouth turned down. So did her eyes. “I’m not ready. I need to think.”
He closed his eyes. He’d been so sure that this was what she needed. That once he asked, she’d be ready to admit that she loved him, too, that this was what she wanted. He wished he could shrug it off, pretend that his heart wasn’t breaking. Again. “It’s okay, Mal. I just want you to be happy.”
It nearly killed him to say it, knowing that this was the last goodbye. That his hopes were now truly shattered.
He untangled himself from her, from the sheets. His clothes were scattered around the room. He didn’t care, as long as he found enough to cover up so he wouldn’t be wandering down the street naked.
“Travis.” She sat up in bed, holding the sheets to her chest. “Wait. It’s...just that...three months ago we weren’t even talking. I don’t think this is the time.”
“I laid my heart out for you. I can’t possibly think of a better time.”
There was a set to her mouth, a firm line that he knew and loved even when it was directed at him. “Your grandma just died, Travis. You aren’t thinking straight.”
No, he’d never been thinking straighter. There was no point in waiting. No point in holding back or holding off. “She didn’t just die. It’s been a month, Mal, and, yes, I still miss her. I’m sure I’m still grieving. But that isn’t why I’m asking. I love you. I want to be with you.”
She blinked. “We’re not ready.”
“I’m ready.”
She shook her head as though to clear it. “You can’t just decide we’re together without discussing it with me.”
That irked him, though he did his best not to let it show. Getting heated wouldn’t help the situation and it certainly wouldn’t get him the answer he wanted. “We’re discussing it now, aren’t we?”
She scowled. “I’m saying you can’t just spring it on me.”
Spring it on her? As though they hadn’t been working toward just this moment since they got back together? His hands fisted. “I can’t believe you’re surprised.”
“Well, I am.” She lifted her chin. “I did not expect we’d be having this conversation tonight.”
“No? Then when did you think we’d be having it?” He wanted to know. Had she expected it would never come up at all? Or was there some secret code he was supposed to know that he’d yet to decipher?
“I hadn’t thought about it at all.”
His insides went cold. “I don’t believe you.”
“Contrary to what you might think, Travis, I haven’t spent the last year and a half thinking about you.” He took the shot without responding. “I’ve bee
n busy living my own life.”
“I didn’t expect you not to.” He scooped up his jeans, stepped into them without looking away from her. He couldn’t believe this was happening—again. That he’d so badly misread the signs. “But I thought you were making room for me in this new life.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“No, but it’s what you said.” He zipped up. “Apparently, you’ve already made the decision for us. Sort of like how you decided you were returning to Vancouver and we were breaking up.” This time he couldn’t prevent the bitterness from creeping into his voice.
Her lips thinned. “That’s not fair.” Maybe not, but he wasn’t feeling fair. “I didn’t want to break up.” Her voice broke as her eyes flicked up to meet his. Travis saw the naked emotion in their depths. “You didn’t give me a choice.”
Was that really what she thought? That he’d been the one to force the choice? Had she forgotten that she was the one who’d walked into the bar and informed him that she was leaving for good? “You had a choice, Mal. You just didn’t choose me.”
And she wasn’t choosing him again.
It hurt more than the last time. Hurt so much that he struggled to draw breath without wincing.
“Travis.” Her voice softened.
He swallowed. The lump in his throat didn’t budge. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But if you feel differently, I can’t force you to love me.”
He found his shirt and slipped it over his head. Socks, underwear, anything else could remain scattered on the floor. He didn’t need them. Mal watched him without saying a word.
“So, this is it.” His lips felt numb. They weren’t alone. He couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers, his feet, his heart. He closed his eyes for just a moment, long enough to take one deep breath, and then started toward the bedroom door.
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