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"But-"
"No, I don't want to complicate things between us right now and have it screw up the progress we've made and all the hard work we've put in. This concert means a lot to me too. I want it to be a huge success, so let's just go downstairs and have a nice, quiet dinner. Finish up the bottle of wine."
Grady gave her a long look, sighed, and then glanced away.
Part of Arabella wanted to hear what he had to say. Could he possibly have been innocent? With the tight security, it would have been nearly impossible to get into Grady Heart's dressing room without his consent. Still, her heart thudded at the thought.
But she knew clinging to his guilt made it easier for her. Because if he was somehow innocent after all that, her running away, losing the baby . . . God. She put a hand to her stomach and swallowed hard.
"Need a peppermint?" he asked in such a gentle tone that she nearly burst into tears. He had the right to know that she'd been pregnant. But how could she tell him after all this time? What good would it do? The thought made her stomach lurch. "Arabella, are you okay?"
Arabella nodded. "I think maybe I'm just hungry," she said, but she had no idea how she would even begin to consume food. "Let's just drop this conversation and eat dinner. Or better yet, start with a glass of red wine."
"Okay," he said slowly. "But only because I don't want to make things awkward between us again. But once this concert is over, I want to have a long talk."
"I don't see the point in dredging up the past," Arabella said, feeling panic rising in her throat. "We were young and-"
"No," Grady interrupted with more bite than she'd expected. "Arabella . . ." he added in a pleading tone, but she couldn't listen.
"Just stop!" Raising her hands, Arabella backed away and came up against the bedroom wall. She looked up at him, so close to tears that she needed to glance away, but he tilted her chin upward so that she had to face him.
"I was innocent that night," he said. "I don't know how the hell that girl managed to get into my dressing room, but I didn't touch her. I didn't want to touch her. I loved you. How in the world could you think otherwise?" The pain in his voice was difficult to hear.
Arabella's heart hammered in her chest, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he spoke the truth.
"I still love you," he said. The tremor in his voice went straight to her heart and squeezed it. When a hot tear slid down her cheek, he gently swiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "Do you believe me?"
God . . . oh God. Arabella inhaled a shaky breath and gave him a small nod. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you give me the chance to explain? How could you not return my calls? Didn't you listen to the voice mails? Arabella, I pleaded . . . came close to begging you to listen to me."
"No, I deleted them all."
"Why?" he asked, and the simple question seemed to echo in the room. "Help me understand."
"I wanted to." But Arabella couldn't tell him that she'd been too devastated to think straight. Now, looking back, she knew she'd been irrational and full of hormones, emotion, and fear. She'd been so young. Too afraid to see how he would take the news . . . so she'd fled, scared and torn apart. And then . . . "I just couldn't. I didn't even want to hear your voice. Don't you get it? I was destroyed. And afraid you'd find a way to lure me back."
"Look, I know your history, that your dad cheated and that trust was a huge issue with you. I also know it had to be so damned hard being the girlfriend of a pop star. I get all that. But, Arabella, our love for each other was so damned strong. I thought it could withstand anything. How could you just leave without looking back? How could you trust me so very little?"
"Fear," she replied, but had to look away. "And what you did afterward."
"Afterward?"
"Grady, I couldn't walk past a magazine stand or tabloid without your face plastered on it-and you were never alone."
"Tabloids?" Grady closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. "Oh yeah, they're credible. How many times did they have us secretly married? Broken up? You pregnant?" he said, and her heart skipped a beat. "Give me a break."
"Well, you sure were in a seemingly endless amount of pictures with a new girl every week."
"Seems like you took plenty of notice."