He looked away from her.
“Dylan’s parents had an autopsy done on him. The lab report came back with evidence of THC.”
With her words, her expression turned stricken.
Oh Ella. Always finding a way to blame herself. He took her cold hand. “That doesn’t mean he was high that day—THC stays in your urine for days. And if Dylan was a regular user, it could be found in his body up to ten days afterward, sometimes longer.”
Gage didn’t want to go back to that day, to remember Dylan suited up and waiting for him at the chopper. He hadn’t checked, hadn’t asked, just warned him to stay on his line.
Gage wasn’t unfamiliar with the telltale signs of weed, a guy too stoned to ride. If he’d done more than gotten on the chopper, practically ignoring Dylan, if he’d taken a moment to think past his run, and how he’d make it epic for the cameras . . .
“But here’s the important part,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if he was high or not. The test would have been enough to cause reasonable doubt, get the decision reversed.” She swallowed then. “And if I’d had the courage to stand up for what I believe in, you’d still have your career today.”
He stared at her, her words hitting home.
“You could have saved me?”
Slowly, she nodded.
“And you didn’t.”
Her mouth tightened into a bud of grim assent.
He just stared at her. Moved his hand away.
“Gage—”
“Stop. Just . . . I need a minute here.” He stared at the fire.
“I had to tell you . . . I thought, how could we start over if—”
“No. How could we start over. Period.” He looked at her. “That lawsuit destroyed everything I’d worked for, Ella. My career, my awards, my sponsorships, gone. And yes, I made mistakes, but the press eviscerated me. They tore my life apart, some even called me a murderer. My mother practically had a nervous breakdown, started drinking. And I lost everything I loved.”
She just stared at him. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He had nothing. Then, tightly, “You’re sorry. Yeah, well, me too.”
“Gage—”
He held up his hand, a stiff arm to her words. “Don’t.”
“Gage! You’re not the only one whose life was destroyed over it. I quit my job—”
“You became a senator. I chase down hotshot skiers. Big difference there, honey.”
She sucked in a breath, as if he’d slapped her, and he had to look away.
He didn’t know why her words skewered him. He’d agreed with the lawsuit, agreed with his own culpability, and if he had to surrender everything to help the McMahon family cope with their loss, it was a small price to pay. He’d practically begged his lawyer to settle the case.
Maybe if he hadn’t, his attorney would have pushed harder, found the truth, but Gage agreed to everything the plaintiffs asked for without a blink.
Still, he could way too easily conjure up the image of Ella sitting across the room with the enemy camp, again feel a fist closing over his heart as he watched her betray him.
He couldn’t breathe.
“I can only say I’m sorry so many times,” she said finally.
“Me too,” he said quietly. “The difference is, I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep Dylan from killing himself on the slopes. You’re sorry because you knew the truth but let me burn anyway.”
Her quick intake of breath made him want to turn, to push it all away—the hurt, the anger, the way the night had turned crisp and dark, the stars winking out as dawn approached. He wanted to rewind time back five minutes and take her in his arms, forget the past and even the future and hold on to the place where none of it mattered but now.
But it did matter. All of it. He didn’t move.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I did.”
“Yes, I did.”
Her own words sat like a stone in her heart as Ella considered Gage. He sat, his knees drawn up, his arms hanging over them, staring into the fire. Her words seemed to flicker in his eyes.
“You knew the truth but let me burn anyway.”
She blinked, hating the rim of tears, and turned back to the tent. “The sun will be up soon. I’ll make some breakfast.”
He nodded, and she caught her breath when he didn’t even look at her.
She should have known this would happen. Of course he’d feel betrayed.
“That lawsuit destroyed my life, Ella.”
And she’d dragged him out here, rekindled the past, even hinted at a future, all the time harboring the secret she knew would destroy him all over again.
She glanced back through the doorway. Gage hadn’t moved.