Only in Dreams(38)

“And what exactly is that?”

He moved in close—so close I could feel his heat near me. “My whole world.”

Instinctively I push him away, but he grabs my wrists, pulling me in close again.

“Let go of me,” I demand, trying to break free.

“Will you hear me out?” he asks, not releasing me. I struggle more, but the more I struggle, the tighter his grasp becomes. “Promise you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

“Fine!” I shout. “Now let me go.”

He does as I request, and I stumble back a couple steps, widening the gap between us to a comfortable distance.

“I always wanted to tell you what was going on with me, but I could never find the words.” I stand silently, listening, trying not to look him directly in the eyes, my heart now racing. “I know I had a problem. I drank to forget what I’d lost, and in the end, I lost more than I could ever have imagined.”

“You’d stopped drinking for so long, and I never understood why you started again,” I say.

“My brother is the strongest man I’ve ever known. I used to think my dad was the strong one, and when he died I’d missed out on life somehow.” His eyes are now wet with the tears he’s holding back.

“But Colin, he helped me so much. He was tough on me, but I always knew I could rely on him. When he got serious with Emmie it felt like losing my dad all over again. I was going to be alone.”

“But you had me. You were never going to be alone,” I say.

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” he replies softly.

“I tried to stay, to help you, but you kept pushing me away.” I want to hold him, to convey all those things I’d felt years ago, but I refrain, not wanting to cross any more lines.

A silence lingers between us, before he takes a small step forward, looking into my eyes. “I’m not pushing you away now.”

I feel I might throw up at any second. Christian is saying the things I would have given anything to hear a few years ago. But things have changed, and this can’t be happening now. I’ve moved on. “Sometimes we break things, and they can’t be fixed.”

A silence hangs between us. I try to resist the question on my mind, but it’s plagued me for too long. “Why didn’t you come after me? You had years.”

“I knew you wouldn’t take me back until I got my act together. By the time I figured out all the messed up things in my head, you were with him,” Christian explains.

“You should have tried,” I say, surprising myself.

“I’m trying now. It feels like you still love me, too.”

I shake my head, blinking slowly. “I’ll always love you, but—” I take a deep breath. “I’m in love with Henry, and I want to be his wife.”

“Are you—”

“I should go,” I interrupt. “If you think we can be friends, I’m here. But that’s it.”

I don’t wait for Christian to respond. All I know is that I have to get out of this place immediately. My head is starting to spin. I leave as fast as I can, racing across to the space Henry had secured for me. I can’t look at Emmie right now. She will know something is up, and I’m not ready to answer some of the questions she’ll ask.

I need to work. Work will clear my head. It has to.





I DON’T RECALL actually leaving Christian’s shop. I don’t even remember my walk back over to my temporary workspace. Hell, to be quite honest, the past few hours have been a blur. Holding up a leather vest, I examine the exterior seaming. It’s impeccable. Perhaps I do my best work under duress.

Suddenly I realize my phone is ringing. It’s a repeating segment of an Incubus song, “I Miss You.” It’s Henry. It doesn’t cross my mind not to answer; instead, the thing I want most is to hear his voice. To reaffirm he’s the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Answering my phone, I lift it to my ear, and in a daze, I say, “Hello?”

“Paige, hi babe,” he says, sounding tired.

“I want to come home,” I didn’t even know the thought was going through my mind until I say it. But now that I have, it is the only thing that makes sense to me. At home there’s no Christian, no confusion.

“What?” Henry asks, surprised.

“I mean it, I don’t want to be away any longer. I want to come home.”

“Honey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I insist. “I miss you, I miss our home. Please, I just … I want to come home.” Part of me wants to hold nothing back, to tell him everything, but I know I can’t. I can’t tell him that I’ve been having feelings for a man who I just found out is still in love with me.