by Donna Alward
She unwound her arms from around his ribs and lifted a hand to touch his face. “I’ll think about it. It’s not a small thing you’re asking. Not for us.”
“No,” he agreed, his eyes nearly black in the darkness. “Not for us.”
He took her hand and they started the walk back to the hotel, going slowly as they climbed up the hill. She wasn’t sure if she’d stay or go. She wanted to stay...wanted to very badly. Being in Dan’s arms, waking with him in the morning...it was as close to heaven as she could imagine. But it scared her, too. She wouldn’t walk away from this unscathed. And it could be better or a whole lot worse if they made love before he left.
When the lights of the Cascade lobby came into view, Dan pulled her off to the side, into the snow, and held her close. He kissed her until her breath was gone and her knees wobbled. “Stay,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I...” She was on the verge of saying yes, but what came out of her mouth was, “I can’t.”
His lips turned down in a frown.
“I want to, Dan, but I... I need time to think. This week has been such a whirlwind. A week ago you hated me. We’ve gone through this crazy roller coaster of confession and forgiveness and it’s just...” She looked up into his face. “The last time we were on the verge of something important, I reacted with fear and on emotion and it took us apart. I don’t want to do something hasty and...and jeopardize where we are.”
“I’m not sure how sleeping together will jeopardize anything,” he said, his gaze softening a little as his lips turned up.
It was so very tempting. “I have to be sure.”
“Yes,” he said quietly, “you do.”
That was it then, wasn’t it? For tonight, at least. She did have to be absolutely certain this was what she wanted, not just on a physical level but on all levels. She could get hurt. And the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. “I need to go home and think. Please understand...”
“Let’s get you a cab,” he said softly, stepping back. “And there’s nothing to understand. You have every right to say no, Del. I respect that. I can, uh, deal with my disappointment.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she laughed a little. “You haven’t really changed at all.”
“God, I hope not.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the sidewalk. They ambled to the front entrance, and then asked the doorman for a cab. Moments later a car arrived, pulled up to the curb and idled.
Dan lifted her chin and kissed her once more, a soft, lingering type of kiss that sent tingles right to her toes. “Maybe that will help you with your thinking,” he murmured, and then reached around to open the back door of the taxi.
She looked up just before he closed the door. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“Anytime,” he answered. “What about tomorrow? Are you around so we can... I don’t know, do something?”
She was a little sorry and a little relieved that she had to answer, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got a couple coming out to tour venues. It’s been set up for weeks.”
“Oh. Well, I can’t monopolize all your time. Sleep well, Delly.” He shut the door with a click.
The driver asked for her address and she gave it, and then sat quietly as they made the drive down the hill and into the town site. She was already thinking. And wondering if there was any way possible they could make this work.
* * *
Dan packed his bag, for real this time. Checkout was by eleven; he planned to do that and then meet Adele at her place before he had to head to Calgary. He was due in the office first thing tomorrow morning, and had a room reserved in a downtown Calgary hotel for tonight, though if things went the way he hoped, he’d be at Adele’s tonight.
It didn’t take long to pack; he took his things downstairs and left them with the concierge while he grabbed a quick breakfast. He was nervous as hell about what came next, though. This was the end of his week. He didn’t want to leave Adele; wished he had more time so they could build a new foundation. Dread settled like a rock in the pit of his stomach. She’d said she hadn’t stopped loving him, but it was a big leap from there to actually having a relationship again—especially a long-distance one.
He’d hired a car for the days ahead, and had it delivered to the hotel. With his luggage stowed securely in the trunk, he climbed behind the wheel of the Lexus and made the short trip to Adele’s place, parking behind her little car in the driveway. His pulse quickened and the knot in his stomach intensified. What if she’d thought about them and decided it wasn’t worth it? How was he going to get over her again?
He climbed her steps and knocked on her door, as nervous as a boy on his first date. When she opened the door, his tongue seemed to tangle in his mouth, momentarily preventing him from speaking. She wore snug jeans and a V-neck sweater made out of some sort of ultra-soft blue material, and it highlighted her curves gloriously. The other night, he’d been prevented from touching those curves by the bulkiness of her coat. Now his fingers itched to skim down her ribs and settle on her hips.
Nervousness hadn’t made the wanting go away.
“Hi,” she finally said, trying a smile.
“Hi.”
She stepped aside, holding the door open. “Come in, please.”
She sounded so...polite. That probably wasn’t good. He stepped inside the warm entry and she reached for his coat. “Here, let me take this.”
He let her slide it off his shoulders, but when she stood there, his coat in her hands, he knew he had to kiss her. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted as he took a step closer and covered her mouth with his own.
She was so sweet. Sweet and soft and perfect, just like he remembered.
And when the kiss broke off, she put her arms around his middle and snuggled in against his chest, just for a few moments. But it eased the knot of worry and made him close his eyes, hoping.
“Did you eat?” she asked, stepping back. “I can make you something.”
“I had an omelet at the hotel, but thanks.”
“Eggs,” she teased, and grinned up at him.
“Best way to start the day.”
“So...”
“So, let’s go inside and talk.”
They went into the living room and sat on the sofa. Dan patted the cushion next to him. “Will you sit next to me? No matter what happens, I want to be holding your hand, all right?”
She nodded, and Dan noticed a flicker of unease behind her eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to freak out yet. Even if they tried to make this work, there were a lot of things to discuss.
And as he twined his fingers with hers, he found himself wishing she’d stayed over. No matter how this went, he wished he had that final memory to take back with him.
“So,” he began, hoping he came up with the right words. “The first thing I want to say is that I want this to work out somehow. I don’t want today to be goodbye forever.”
She nodded. “I know. I feel the same way.”
He let out a relieved breath. “Oh, thank God.”
“But—”
“No, please. Don’t start the next sentence with ‘but.’”
She squeezed his hand. “I have to, Dan. These feelings... I need to let them out so I can deal with them. These last few days have been...transformative. Please don’t doubt that I care for you so much.”
“The other night, it was love.”
She swallowed, nodded. “Yes. But what I’m saying is, the logistics of us being in a relationship... I don’t even know how that would work. You live in Toronto. I’m in Banff.”
“So that’s it?” He pulled his hand away. “You’re not even willing to try?”
“I didn’t say that.” Her voice had tensed, and he tried to quell the frustration he was feeling. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to talk this through.
/> “Then how do you see this working?”
“I don’t know. I’ve gone over it a million times in my head. We’ve built lives in different places. I’ve built this business. I have clients that I can’t just abandon, and if I cancel contracts, then I have deposits and fees that have to be repaid. I can’t afford to do that. It’ll bankrupt me.”
He understood that. It wasn’t as easy as handing in a resignation and taking a new job. His father had always owned his own business and it was a very different thing.
“And,” she continued, “it seems...precipitous to pack it all in on a week’s reconnection. It’s...it’s too fast.”
“You’re not sure about us.”
“Are you?”
He paused. Was he? If he were sure, would he have felt the stomach-twisting nerves that had plagued him all morning? Hadn’t he been worried that she’d say no? He certainly hadn’t trusted her to say yes.
Trust. Ah, yes. That sticky, sticky word.
“No,” he whispered. “No, I’m not sure at all.”
The hopeful energy in the room disappeared, replaced by something he could only describe as futility. She looked disappointed in his answer, as though she’d been waiting for him to convince her about them. Her gaze slid away from his and her shoulders rounded, just a little bit.
“It’s more than closure, Delly,” he tried, nudging his knee a little closer to hers. “We both know it. We’re not over each other. God, the way you kissed me by the falls...the things we said...”
“I know,” she replied, her voice rough. “I know. But maybe what we need to do is actually get over each other rather than beat ourselves silly trying to make something work.”
“So you’re not even willing to give this a chance.” He knew the words came out harshly, but he didn’t care. She was the only woman he’d ever truly loved. He wanted to start over. But they both had to want it. They both had to be in the same place, mentally if not geographically. Hope fizzled away, leaving him feeling so empty, it was frightening. Before he’d had his anger to keep him warm. Now he had nothing.
A loud buzz-buzz sounded, and his phone vibrated in his pocket.
“You should check that. It could be important.”
“I don’t need to. I’m not married to my phone.”
Or anything or anyone else either, he thought bitterly.
An awkward silence followed, and then another loud buzz-buzz and a vibration.
With an annoyed sigh, he fished into his pocket for his phone and took it out and hit the button at the bottom to illuminate the screen. He scanned the text message, a smile growing on his face. At least there was some good news in his day.
“What is it?”
“It’s Morgan. Tamara had a baby boy at ten thirty-seven. Three weeks early, at six pounds, three ounces.”
He turned the phone around so she could see the picture of the newborn, swaddled up in flannel and a stretchy hospital cap.
“Congratulations.”
Her voice was cold and anything but congratulatory. And then he knew he’d blown it. What had he been thinking? Here they were, trying to talk about their future, and he was all excited over the one thing she could never have—a baby of her own. How insensitive could he be?
“I’m sorry, Adele. I didn’t think...”
“The world doesn’t stop because I can’t have kids, Dan.”
“I know, but it was insensitive of me—”
“So what would you do, pretend all of your nieces and nephews didn’t exist? Keep me away from pregnant people? Make sure there are subjects that your family wouldn’t discuss in my presence? This is what I meant when I said nothing had changed.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Just that the timing isn’t great.”
“So you walk on eggshells, is that it?”
She got up from the sofa and paced to the window overlooking the street. “Dan, you deserve someone who can blend in with your family. Who can give you what you want. I can’t. I’ll never be able to.”
He stood up, too, suddenly angry. “I want you. Don’t you get that? That’s all I ever wanted! And you keep throwing up roadblocks!”
“Because they exist, dammit! I won’t pretend they don’t and then get hurt later on because I failed to face the truth. Look at my mom. My dad left before I was even born, and you know what she did? She faced up to her situation and got on with it. She provided for me all by herself. That was her reality and she sure as hell didn’t pretend otherwise.”
“And how has that worked for you? Reality can be pretty damn lonely. Especially when you hide behind it so you don’t have to put yourself out there and get hurt.”
“How dare you judge?”
“I dare because I see it before my eyes. Why didn’t your mother ever get married? I don’t think you even mentioned her having any boyfriends. Why is that? Because she was scared she’d be left high and dry, like she was when your dad left her?”
Adele turned around, her eyes flashing. “You mean like you were after I left, Dan? No substantial relationships because you didn’t trust anyone? Maybe you should look in the mirror before you toss judgments around.”
Her accusation cut him to the quick. “Maybe I should,” he admitted. “You’re right. I stopped trusting.”
“Do you trust me?”
He wanted to say yes. Wanted to say it and tell her that they’d figure it out and work it out and be happy, but he couldn’t lie. Not anymore. Nothing but total honesty would work if they were going to look at being together again.
“No,” he answered dully. “I want to. But I was scared to come over here and was afraid of what you’d say. And I’m scared that if we try to work this out, that you’ll find a reason to leave me again. That...if we’re apart too much, or too long, it’ll make it easier for you to back out.”
“Then you really don’t know me at all.”
“You didn’t let me finish. But I’m willing to take that risk, Del. Because I don’t want us to blow this a second time.”
“As long as you keep me in your sights.” Her eyes teared up and he wasn’t sure if it was sadness or anger or both. “And this is the big problem, don’t you see? You can’t lock me in a box and keep me there like...like Tinkerbell so I can’t get away. You have to believe in me, and you don’t.”
Anger flared to life. “It’s not like I don’t have a reason! I’m human, for God’s sake. I believed in you once and you left, and that was after three years. Of course I have a problem with trust!”
Silence rang out as they faced each other, and his anger left abruptly, washed away by what felt like the pain of inevitability. What had he expected, really? That after a week and a few dates everything would be fixed?
And yet the idea that he wouldn’t be with her again, wouldn’t kiss her or hold her hand was like a hot knife to the gut. Because what they’d said at dinner was also true. They had never stopped loving each other.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” he said, quieter now, emotion creating a rasp in his voice. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to try. I do, Del. I want us to try. I’m trying right now.”
“I know you are.” Her voice broke and the tears in her eyes dropped quietly down her cheeks. “But I don’t think it’s enough. I can’t see us making it work when we’d see each other every few months. You’d have to believe in me, Dan. Believe in us. Otherwise we’re just prolonging the inevitable.”
She sniffed, new tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “I know I’ve been clear for a long time, but there’s still a part of me that wonders, every time I have a pap test, if the cancer is going to come back. Or if it will show up somewhere else.”
He looked at her levelly, feeling sorry for her but also needing to give her some truths. “That could happen if we’re together or not. I would have been by your side then, and I woul
d be by your side again. Yes, I have trust issues, and I own that. But you’re doing this out of fear. And I don’t know what to say to combat that.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think there’s anything you can say. The times we spent together... I had hope, you know? It felt so good. So...right. But it’s not reasonable. It’s not reality.”
It finally clicked in his brain that from the moment she’d been born, through her cancer treatment and up until this moment, she’d been programmed to deal with “reality.”
“Reality is overrated,” he replied.
She made a sound of frustration, and he smiled a little.
“Tell me, Delly, if you’re so into reality, why wedding planning? Seems to me that it’s one day that is really overblown and a fantasy. Not really a representation of the reality of marriage.”
“Because that will come soon enough. Commitments take work. Dedication. Even when it’s rough. And at least I can help couples get off to a memorable start.”
“Huh.” It seemed she knew well enough what made a strong relationship. She just wasn’t willing to put in the work with them.
This was it, then. No coming up with workable solutions or plans, no confessions of love and a willingness to try anything to see it through. Instead, this was ending the way he’d expected at the beginning of the week, with a few pleasurable interludes in between. This was goodbye.
“Dan, I’m sorry. I turned this around in my head and—”
He held up his hand. “No, it’s okay. I was just kidding myself, hoping again. You’re right. We spent a few days together, ignoring the ‘reality’ of the situation. I’ll go now, Del. No hard feelings.”
His feelings were hard, indeed, but he didn’t want to leave this with nothing but anger between them. If this was really the end, he wanted them to have a goodbye.
“I’m... I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.
“Me too.”
He went to the entry and reached for his jacket. Shrugged it on and turned toward the door, watched as Adele stood there helplessly. He had his hand on the doorknob when he turned around again, cradled her face in his hands and put one final kiss on her lips. They trembled beneath his...or perhaps that was his own. A man shouldn’t have to say goodbye to the woman he loved twice in his life.
