Sean’s heart began to pound with crazy hope. But then he figured she was just talking about resolving the mess he’d created and moving on as friends. Or more likely acquaintances. Still, that was better than nothing.
“I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me, Lizzie. Knowing I don’t deserve it.”
She reached up to his face. “But you do. We all deserve good things out of life. Each one of us deserves kindness and warmth…and love.”
His arms moved of their own volition and gathered her against him. He had to force himself to hold her loosely because he wanted to crush her to him.
“Thank you,” he said roughly into her hair.
Sean closed his eyes and let the world recede until all he knew was the feel of her warmth and the smell of Ivory soap. His eyes stung at the thought that their paths were not going to ever cross again. The idea of leaving her on a friendly note was more tolerable than them parting as they’d been before. But it was still horrible.
She pulled back first and he let her go.
As he scrambled for some excuse to linger, she said, “I want you to go see someone, though.”
He blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“If we’re going to be together, I need you in therapy. I’m willing to cut you all kinds of emotional slack, but I want you working on what happened, okay? Because the truth is, you’re not fine. You’ve got things you need to talk about that require professional help. And unless you get it, we’re just going to end up here again, over something else.”
All he could do was stare at her. First, because he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. And then because he figured he had and they might still have something…and how many times in life did a miracle fall in your lap?
“Lizzie, I’m sorry…. Can you be a little clearer? My hearing’s fine, but my brain’s shorted out.”
She laughed a little. “I want to be with you still. If it’s something you want.”
“Oh…God. Oh, Lizzie…I don’t deserve this—”
She cut him off. “I’ll be honest with you. If it weren’t for your past, I probably wouldn’t give things another shot. But because I know what you’ve been through, I guess I feel as though the not-trusting thing is understandable. I mean, that’s hard for you, right? Trusting people.”
He found himself nodding. “Yeah…Yeah, it really is.”
“Makes sense. If you grew up in a situation where things were out of control and scary, where you never felt safe, of course that would be hard. But relationships require trust. So if we’re going to be in one, you need to talk to someone—”
Sean dragged her against him and held her so hard they were one body not two.
He dropped his head to her neck and said, “I’ll see someone. I swear to you. I’ll do anything to have you in my life. I’m that desperate. I’m that needy for you.”
He started kissing her and then she was kissing him back and then they were on the couch in a blaze of passion. Clothes flew and someone had to run down to the bedroom for some protection and they ended up on the floor, but it was utterly glorious.
When the rush was spent and they were in the afterglow, Lizzie glanced over at the tool box.
“Sean…how would you feel about naming the endowment after your mother? I think I’d rather have her name on it.”
Sean’s chest ached at her thoughtfulness, her strength, her kindness.
“I think…I think that would be perfect.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I think that would be perfect…just like you.”
Epilogue
Two months later…
Standing in the bathroom of her studio on Beacon Hill, Lizzie looked at herself in a full-length mirror and didn’t recognize who was staring back at her. The woman in the reflection was wearing a black gown and her hair was curled and her makeup was…well, hell, the makeup was fabulous—thanks to help from one of the ladies at the Chanel counter at Macy’s.
“You look beautiful,” Sean said from behind her.
She glanced at him in the glass. He was dressed in a tuxedo and a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie.
“So do you,” she said, smiling.
He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. “But I think there’s something missing.”
She gathered up some of the gown’s skirting then let the chiffon run through her fingers. “Are you kidding me? This dress is perfect. Well, maybe it’s a little long, but I like the train effect.”