Annie's Song(40)

The smiled wavered. “Not that I know of. But then, I have the ear of the other side.” He ran one hand over his hair. A sure sign of nerves.

Annie needed to sit down. She found the nearest chair, watched Simon come in, closing the door behind him. “And you’re here,” she said, letting the anger that burst through her leak into her voice. “After tossing us out of your life like so much garbage, you come waltzing back, expecting us to—”

“I expect nothing, Annie.” He kept eye contact, and she gave him points for that. “I had time to think after Claire’s visit. And more time, when I arrived here two weeks ago.” She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, you can add that to your list of grievances. Too much time, too much thinking. Once I knew you were all right, I retreated, like a coward. I ran my mind in damn circles, trying to figure out what I already knew.”

The door opened behind him. Claire froze, pain and hope flaring in her blue eyes. It tore at Annie. His fists clenched, Simon closed his eyes briefly, and turned around.

“Hello, Claire.”

“Simon. What are you—”

He moved forward and caught her in a hug, nearly lifting her off her feet. “I missed you, Claire. God help me, I missed all of you.”

After an endless second, she slid her arms around his waist. Annie saw his muscles unclench when she returned his hug, and realized he was scared of rejection. He had every reason to be.

Claire touched his face. “How did you know—”

“Annie called me, asking for help finding Zach.” Tears filled Claire’s eyes. She’d been emotional since her resurrection, especially with anything concerning Zach. Or the baby. Or Annie. Oh, hell—she was weepy about everything, and it was completely freaking Annie. “When you came to see me, it cracked the wall I’d built, the wall I needed to keep myself from hurting every day.”

“I didn’t mean to turn your life upside down.”

“And I never expected to see you standing in my church, and understand you had every right to be there. I was wrong, Claire. And I am sorry for what I put you through because of my stubbornness.”

Holding his hand, Claire turned to Annie. And she knew what was coming. “You called him.”

Okay, that wasn’t what she braced herself for. “I was desperate. He’d understand what I needed without having to explain.” She turned on Simon. “That doesn’t mean I’m even close to forgiving you. And I didn’t invite you to my wedding.”

“Annie.” Claire looked shocked. And once the words were out of her mouth, she felt like the heel in the room. “I thought you missed him as well.”

“I did. Damn it—I’m not going to forgive you just because you flew a few thousand miles and apologized. Stop looking at me like that, Claire. I don’t have your generous heart.”

“Annie—”

“I need time, Simon. Stay, because I won’t ruin what you and Claire have gotten back. But don’t hang around with those sad eyes, expecting me to . . . damn.” Hormones had tears stinging her eyes now.

She turned away, trying to compose herself, and froze when warm hands closed over her shoulders.

“Claire told me about the baby. Congratulations, Annie. You will make a fine mother.” He leaned in, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “And your heart is bigger than you think.”

“Damn you, Simon.” With a sob, she turned around, straight into his arms. And made a fool of herself by crying like an emotional idiot.

Claire rubbed her arm, and she knew whatever stupid thing she said had been forgiven. It only made her cry harder. By the time she came up for air, Simon was sitting with her on the bed, Claire on her other side, holding her hand. She smiled at Annie.

“You’ve needed to do that for a while now.”

“I guess so.” She wiped her eyes, horrified by her breakdown. Simon handed her a box of tissues. “Thanks.” She mopped at her face, her skin hot from crying, blew her nose. “I can’t shop for my wedding dress looking like this.”

“You can, and you will. Eric has waited long enough.”

That hit the guilt button. Annie had been putting it off, claiming exhaustion, recovery time, lack of a wedding gown. The last excuse prompted their shopping trip. Every time she put him off, the pain in Eric’s eyes twisted through her heart. And she couldn’t understand why she kept pulling back.

“Fine,” she said. Pushing off the bed, she stomped into the bathroom, needing to splash some water on her face, and get out from under Claire’s accusing gaze. The woman could cut metal with that look. The cool water calmed her, and washed away her anger. When she walked back out, all she felt was shame. “You’re right, Claire. And I’m sorry. God.” She pushed hair off her face. “I feel like all I’ve done lately is apologize.”