Lovers at Heart(13)

She didn’t respond.

“But I wasn’t your boyfriend,” he said, knowing he’d read her silence perfectly.

“Exactly.” She nodded.

Her walls were going up again, and he had to slip in before they reached the top. He feared he’d never have another chance.

“I had no claim to you, and I did the wrong thing. I let my pain guide me, and I never should have. I’ve regretted it ever since the very second I saw the hurt in your eyes. There’s no excuse. I was wrong. I didn’t know what to do with the magnitude of emotions that I was feeling. Max, I have never been in love before.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I’ve never been in love,” he corrected himself. “So I didn’t understand what I felt when I saw you.”

“You didn’t even know me,” she said in almost a whisper.

“No. I didn’t.”

“I could have been a nasty, awful, devious person.”

“Yes, you could have,” he admitted.

“I could have been a gold digger and convinced you to spend all sorts of money on me.”

He raised his brows and smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that, but yes, you could have.”

She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “So how can you compare what you felt—lust, desire, whatever—with love?”

The look on her face pained him. Her eyes pleaded, Love me! while her contentious tone screamed, Liar!

Treat did the one thing he knew was right and the only thing he wanted to do. He told the truth. “I have spent my entire life afraid to fall in love. I assumed that, like with my mother, when you love someone too much, God takes them away. It sounds stupid when I say it aloud, and cognitively, I know that I worry because I was so young when I lost my mother and spent many years watching my father grieve for her. Hell, he’s still grieving for her. But, Max, even though I know it sounds irrational, it’s true, and now I’m trying to push this fear I’ve lived with for so long aside, and it’s scary and empowering all at the same time.”

He waited for her to respond. Every passing second was excruciating. Every passing minute confirmed her disbelief. He didn’t know what else to do but to continue.

“Whatever I felt when I saw you, it brought the belief right up to the surface again, and in my head I thought, Don’t get close to her. Something will happen to one of you.”

Max stared, her mouth slightly parted, her face a blank slate. The pleading and screaming was gone from her eyes.

“Max?”

She finished her wine.

She doesn’t believe me. I’ve lost any chance I had.

“Max, are you gonna say anything?”

The waiter came by with the check, and Treat was thankful for a distraction from the tension of his looming confession. He paid the waiter quickly while his mind ticked off seconds as if they were inches—each one drawing Max further away from him.

“Thank you for telling me.”





Chapter Eleven


MAX BANGED HER head on the steering wheel. Thanks for telling me? What the hell was I thinking? He’d poured out his heart to her and she’d thrown away his raw emotions like they’d meant nothing. Didn’t she believe him? She pondered the thought, replaying the evening in her mind. She’d seen his eyes change in the restaurant, heard the vulnerability in his voice. She hadn’t even meant to say Thank you for telling me. She didn’t know why she’d said it. All she remembered was trying to keep herself from admitting to him how hurt she’d been by…that guy. She didn’t want to have to try to explain how someone else had called her names and that she’d stayed with him anyway. Sure, she was much younger then and she should have gotten past it, but the hurt had cut her to the core, and that flash of a look from Treat had come with the same sharp edge.

She’d believed every word he said as he poured his heart out on the table for her to see. And then she’d broken him. She’d goddamn broken him. She saw it in the way he walked with his arms closer to his body, his pace quicker than on their way into town. She knew it from the silence that separated them like a barrier. And if she had to do it all over again, she might just do it again, because she was broken, too.

She pulled into the apartment complex and her cell phone vibrated with an incoming text. This time she picked it up quickly, hoping it was Treat.

So? Everything okay?

Kaylie. She debated not texting back as she walked toward the stairs, but the words that Chaz had parroted back to her floated into her mind. She stopped walking and texted, Nope. Couldn’t B worse. Going 2 bed. Alone.

She climbed the steps feeling twice as exhausted as she had ten minutes earlier. Her phone vibrated again. She stopped on the second floor to read the text.

Sorry. Want me 2 come over?

She smiled, wishing she hadn’t given away the chocolate cake. A sweets coma might just make her feel better. She texted, I’m okay. Thx tho.

A small gift bag hung from her apartment doorknob.

“I was coming to get that.”

Max jumped. “Jesus, Treat. You scared the shit out of me again.” She put her hand over her heart and leaned against the wall, trying to calm her racing heart.

“I’m truly sorry. I thought I could beat you here.” He reached for the bag.

“What’s in that?”

“Nothing. It was stupid,” he answered.

Standing close to him again brought a different kind of rush through her body. She reached for the bag, brushing his hand. He glanced down, as if longing for the touch, then released the bag to Max.

She peered inside and removed two envelopes. She looked up at him.

“I’m gonna go.” He held her gaze and reached out, gently touching her cheek in a way that sent a million naughty thoughts through her mind, chased by one overwhelming feeling that was bigger than anything she’d ever felt.

“Goodbye, Max.”

She watched him descend the stairs, and when his footsteps faded into the night, she opened the small envelope marked “1” and read the handwritten note.





Dearest Max,

If I chicken out tonight and do not tell you why I was such an ass in Nassau, just read the other note. If I do tell you, toss the bag away and kiss me.

Yours, Treat





She smiled. He had told her. Toss the bag away and kiss me. She looked at the empty stairwell, then quickly tore open the other envelope with trembling hands. Hurry! Hurry! Her heart pushed her to move faster.





Dearest Max,

I never believed in love at first sight until I met you, and it scared me so badly that I didn’t have a clue about what to do. I’m sorry, Max. I wanted to take care of you, but if I’ve failed you, I’ll leave you alone to heal.

Love, Treat.



She pressed the notes to her heart and opened the door. She thought about chasing after him, but she’d made a mistake once, and her heart wasn’t ready. She had to be sure this time. Her mind was dancing with happiness as she read and reread the note over and over during the next two hours as she lay on her bed thinking of the evening and letting the words in his note sink in. Every hour that passed brought more surety. Treat had gone to great lengths, romantic lengths, to let her know how he felt, and she’d been cold. As her heart opened to him, she thought of how she’d apologize for the way she left things. Thank you for telling me. Sure, she hadn’t handled things well in the restaurant, but wouldn’t he understand? Any man who could reveal such personal turmoil would certainly understand being wounded by a past love.

Max fell asleep with the letters in her hands.





Chapter Twelve


SAYING GOODBYE TO his father would be the hardest part of the evening. Even harder than accepting that he would never set eyes on Max again.

“I’ve been waiting up for you, son,” his father said. “Figured you might need to talk.”

Treat told his father everything. Every sordid detail, from the way he’d made Max feel that night in Nassau to the intimacy they’d shared and the way they were torn apart by her memory of his hurtful actions. He told his father about the cake, the walk, and the feelings that had taken him off guard and left him floundering—and he told his father about the fear he’d secretly carried his whole life.

Hal Braden wasn’t a man who talked just to hear his own voice. He chose his words carefully and rarely doled out unsolicited advice to his children. So when he asked Treat to listen carefully, Treat did just that.

“Treat, I’ve been waiting for you to figure out what was holding your heart back all these years. For a while, I wasn’t sure if it was something I did when you were growing up. I did my best, but being both mother and father had its trying times. Then I worried that maybe you just hadn’t met the right woman yet. But when I looked into your eyes earlier today, I saw the fear in them. And I saw the love, too. I knew that what I’d worried about for so long was true. Son, your mama didn’t die because of our love for each other. Surely you know that.”

Treat felt something on his cheek and wiped it away. A tear. He nodded, unable to form a response.

“This life we’re given is so short. It’ll be gone before you know it and, son, you’re a good man. You’re a loving, kind, generous man with so much more to give than flashy resorts. Always have been. Just because you allow yourself to love doesn’t mean that some higher power will steal that person away from you—or steal you away from her. If you don’t allow yourself to love, to fully saturate yourself with someone else’s life, someone else’s feelings, if you don’t allow your ego to disappear and your heart to beat for another person, so that every breath you take is taken for that person, well, then, I’m afraid you’ll be missing out on one of life’s only blessings. And besides your family and giving life to children, it’s the only blessing that really matters.”