He shot her a frustrated look, which she met squarely.
“Why don’t you just admit it?” Her voice broke on the final word. She cleared her throat. “I’m not good enough for you.”
His heart contracted at the irony. “I’m a liability to you.”
“Right.” Her lips twisted.
He started to reach out to her, wanting to take her in his arms and comfort her. He dropped his hand. He couldn’t let his feelings for Maggie derail him. This was too important. Drawing on a strength of will honed by years of professional sport, he channeled the emotions roiling inside.
“Without me in your life, this will blow over.” Jake inhaled a raspy breath. “I’m already responsible for ruining one life. I won’t have yours on my conscience, too.”
“You’re talking about Adam?” she asked softly.
“He was a good man who didn’t get the chance to live the life he deserved. Adam died too damn young and I...didn’t.” His voice caught. “I let him down.”
“How?” There was no censure, just curiosity. “I thought he was driving.... His mistakes caused the accident.”
“He was.” His mind went back to that night. Relived each heart-stopping moment. “But something wasn’t right.” He visualized the sheen of sweat on Adam’s skin, the tremor in his hands. His friend’s wild laugh echoed in his ears. “Hadn’t been for weeks.”
He explained about Adam’s erratic behavior. “I deliberately avoided the problem, made excuses instead of confronting him. His weird actions that night were the last straw. I planned to tackle him about it after...” He drained his glass, welcoming the fiery burn as punishment for his guilt. “I never got the chance.”
“I’m sorry. I understand your pain.” Her gentle voice soothed him.
For a moment, he reveled in its warmth. Then he remembered what he had to do and rolled his shoulders to shake off the mantle of comfort.
“What happened made me realize I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become, so I tried to change. I’m determined to be the best player I can. Nothing, no one, can get in the way of that. I owe it to my parents and my team. I owe it to myself.” He met her steady dark gaze. “I owe it to Adam.”
“What about me?”
Hell, yes. He owed it to Maggie, too. “I’m the wrong guy for you.”
“In what way?”
Before he could speak, Maggie let out a choked laugh. “Never mind. You think I’m not capable of knowing what’s best for me.” Beneath the bitter words, anguish shimmered.
“You don’t understand...”
His words trailed off miserably, as he realized he’d skated into a trap.
“I let myself fall in love with you.” Her voice broke. “I thought you were different.”
His heart twisted as a tear trailed down her cheek.
She was in love with him? “I’m nothing like your ex.”
“Yet, like him, you’ve always known better.” Her watery smile was sad. “I won’t have my life dictated to me by any man. I need someone who believes in me the way I believe in him.”
She paused, probably waiting for him to reassure her.
The words wouldn’t come. Better to let her leave angry, disappointed, than to hurt her anymore.
“I thought as much.” Maggie rose and walked slowly to the door. “Good luck.”
It sounded like goodbye.
The pain that seared through him was crippling. Jake poured another shot—a double—but knew bourbon couldn’t soften the edge of his misery.
He’d done what he had to. He and Maggie were finished. No more worries, no more distractions. He could focus on winning the Cup.
He slammed the glass down, shattering it. A puddle of amber liquid spread over the table, then dripped to the floor. The fumes made his stomach rebel.
Maggie was better off without him. If only he could find a way to convince himself that he was better off without her.
* * *
RAGE. FRUSTRATION. HURT.
The tumult of emotions coursing through Maggie kept her going through the drive home. Once inside the house, her knees gave out and she slid to the floor.
She had no idea how long she sat there, slumped against the door. Cold seeped through her clothes, chilling her to the bone, but she hadn’t the will to move. Numbness gradually replaced pain.
She’d been a fool to hope that what they’d shared would be enough to overcome any problems. A sad laugh escaped her dry lips. Wrong again.
“What’s wrong, Mummy?” Emily’s voice pushed aside Maggie’s self-pity.
Averting her face, she tried to compose her expression. Perhaps Emily wouldn’t notice the misery shadowing her mother’s eyes.