“Oh.”
“I should have it removed.” He glanced at her sidelong, as if trying to assess her response to his news.
“I had no idea—that you could be hurt like that. The not loving you part.”
He seemed to struggle to give her a tight smile. “I misjudged her. That’s all.” He closed the pizza box when she waved off another piece of pie. His blue eyes took on that intense look she’d come to know so well.
“You’re not like her at all, Amanda. What we had, it wasn’t how I am now—it wasn’t what I want with you.” His voice softened into a husky growl.
She nodded and rose to clear the table. So he’d been hurt, too. Maybe that’s why he’d never said he loved her. Did he? Would he ever? She rubbed his shoulder and gave him a quick little hug.
“Want to start the movie you said we would watch?”
He seemed to relax again. “I’ll set it up.”
On Sunday, Marcus set up his laptop in the kitchen while she resumed her work in what she thought of as her cubby under the stairs. They talked about ideas each had for the summer writer’s workshop during a relaxed lunch. He insisted on heating up the leftovers from their previous dinner while she put together a huge salad they then shared. He left just before she had to pick up Cecelia.
Amanda fought with her emotions when she thought of him in the quiet of the evening. She loved that he seemed to care about Cecelia and that her daughter liked him. And when they talked about their work, he offered suggestions freely and always considered hers about what he was doing. She admitted to herself that he excited her—far more than any other man. And they thought alike—about so many things that were important to her. Because of that, his presence challenged her to consider a future with him and the permanence it represented. A life alone, as a single parent, held no appeal for her. Yes, she had Cecelia, but in less than a decade, her daughter would be making her own life, increasingly independent of her. Amanda did not want to live alone, but she was afraid. He’d asked her to live with him, but he’d never said the words she longed to hear … that he loved her. He’d hinted at it, but he’d never said it. Why was that?Was it only because of what he’d hinted at the night before? Or maybe because she’d never said she loved him? Were each of them hesitating because of the lack of three little words?
She welcomed Cecelia home and listened to her, distractedly, as she described everything she had seen and done in Seattle before her daughter finally climbed into bed and fell asleep without finishing even one chapter of the book they had been reading together.
Later that evening, Amanda sighed and rolled over in her own bed, a bed that now felt too big without Marcus lying next to her. Making love with him forced her to imagine what life with him could be—if she would only allow it. Still, she was frightened to her core. Being with him, even just walking on the beach with him or enjoying one of Cece’s soccer games with him cheering on the sidelines made her feel complete, in a way that was new to her. But she dared not let him see how she felt about such a future—not unless she could set aside her fears and feel secure in her love.
She recalled how she had almost not given herself that chance on New Year’s Eve, when something, she could not recall what, had nearly prevented her from acting on her desires. It was a night whose memory she cherished, how he had so gently and excitingly made love to her. More telling was how she felt when she reluctantly left his bed, even knowing Cecelia was waiting for her at home. She was on a roller coaster of desire whenever she heard his voice, or felt the warm strength and gentleness inherent in his grasp when he held her hand as they walked along the beach. She had to regain control of her emotions, but wasn’t quite sure how, now that they had begun making love.
She remembered the offhand comments she’d heard on campus about another pair of faculty members and how their relationship had become a kind of ribald joke when it had deteriorated into nasty words flung at one another whenever their paths crossed. If that happened with her and Marcus, would she too become a bad joke among the faculty, the students? She couldn’t bear that. It offended her sense of professionalism and she worried what that might do to her reputation as someone serious about her career.
Maybe she was being overly cautious. After all, the two of them were careful on campus not to show how they felt about one another.
She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. The little things they did together seemed more important when she did them with him. Could others tell how she felt? Cece didn’t question his presence in their life, but Cece didn’t see them together, except when they did things she enjoyed. Her daughter liked Marcus because he didn’t talk down to her, because he knew about the books she enjoyed reading and was happy to discuss them with her, and because he never hesitated to answer her questions.