A Blazing Little Christmas(29)

She picked up her pace, her rapid breaths blowing vaporous puffs in the cold air. When she arrived at the cabin, she closed the door behind her and blinked against the sudden dimness, a stark contrast to the bright white glare of the snow. She was about to call Eric’s name when she made out his shape, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said, quickly removing her coat then walking toward him. “Did you think I’d deserted…”

Her words trailed off as she drew closer to him. He was leaning forward, his elbows braced on his spread thighs, his clenched hands hanging between his knees. He looked up at her as she approached him, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it. He rose slowly, as if some great burden weighed him down and concern suffused her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, lightly grasping his arm.

He stepped away from her touch, something he’d never done before, and uneasiness slithered down her spine. Obviously he was still very upset. Not that she blamed him. “We need to talk,” he said.

Yes, they did. But the way he said those words, in that grave tone, and his somber expression, her uneasiness morphed into dread. Her intuition warned her she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.

Forcing a half smile, she said in the brightest voice she could muster, “Of course we do. I want to tell you about my extremely long conversation with my mother, although I’ll give you the condensed version—”

“Jessica.”

She stopped speaking at the sound of that single quiet word. He never called her Jessica. It was always Jess or sweetheart or some other endearment. She had to swallow to locate her suddenly missing voice. “Yes?”

“The conversation with your mother isn’t what I need to talk to you about.” He nodded toward the chair by the fire. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Her stomach plummeted to her feet. Sit down? Oh, God. Nobody was ever told to sit down because whatever was coming next was good. She shook her head. “I’d rather stand.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw and she wanted to reach out and touch him, but she suddenly felt as if she couldn’t move.

“About what happened this morning at the lodge,” he began.

A feeling akin to panic made her rush to say, “I know it was awful, but—”

“It was worse than awful. It was…intolerable.” He looked away from her for several long seconds and when he looked back his eyes were filled with both sadness and regret. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “So sorry to have to say this, but I just can’t do this anymore.”

Jessica tried to draw a breath, but it seemed as if his words had sucked all the oxygen from the room. She licked her dust-dry lips. “What do you mean by ‘this’?”

“I mean the wedding. I can’t do it anymore. It’s over.”

She didn’t need to worry any longer about the lack of oxygen in the room because her lungs seemed to have shut down, bringing her heart along with them. A deafening silence engulfed them and she stared at him, certain she must have misheard, but one look at his face told her she hadn’t. He was utterly serious. While she’d feared this moment might come, somehow, deep in her heart, she hadn’t truly believed it actually could.

Her entire body started to tremble. “You can’t mean that,” she whispered. “I know it’s been difficult, but—”

“But now it’s impossible,” he broke in. “We both know why we came here. The arguments, the stress, the problems were just getting to be too much. Well, this morning they became too much. I’m done.”

Little black dots swam before her eyes and she had to lock her knees to remain upright. “I…see.” The anguished words were barely audible. Yet as soon as she uttered them she realized that, no, she didn’t see. Not at all. A kernel of anger sparked to life in her stalled heart, flaming brighter with each passing second until she narrowed her eyes at him.

“So that’s it? It’s all over? Just like that?”

To his credit, he looked as ripped apart as she felt. “I’m sorry. But I hope we can—”

“Can what? Stay friends?”

He blinked then frowned. He opened his mouth to speak but she rushed on, tears flooding her eyes with each word. “How can you do this? Where’s the man who said he loved me more than anything? Who wanted nothing more than to be my husband? The father of our children? Who wanted to grow old with me?”

His frown grew deeper. “He’s right here.” He leaned toward her and peered at her face. “Oh, crap, you’re crying.” He moved to the nightstand and ripped half a dozen tissues from the box there.