Still, Reva found she wasn’t quite ready to bid him goodbye. She’d missed him terribly. Missed how they used to be able to talk about anything and everything. Missed how they didn’t need small talk. Missed how he could read her moods and knew just what to say, and when to remain quiet.
He knew her like no one else. Time did not erase that.
Unbidden tears stung her eyes, and Reva angrily blinked them away. Their story had been written long ago. A story that did not have the happy ending she’d hoped for. Last night he’d shown up with an epilogue that made everything worse.
She suddenly felt uncomfortable and completely out of her element. “Okay, then,” she said, quietly.
Reva had secretly played this scene, or a similar one, in her mind a thousand times—especially in the early years after their split. Whole conversations had played out in her imagination.
Never did she doubt her decision not to follow him, but in her pretend world, he changed his mind and stayed. He chose her over his career. Never mind that he would have grown to resent her for giving up his dream.
About year five, the pretense had begun to fade. Lately, she’d rarely thought of Merritt or the new life he’d built for himself. She never allowed herself to check the internet for photos of his wife and children. Why continue to put herself through that pain?
Hillary had the man—and the life—she had so badly wanted.
Reva had so much to be thankful for. Yet, in her forties, she was still single with no family of her own.
“Are you okay?” Merritt asked.
She mentally cursed the fact he could still read her so easily. “No,” she admitted.
A few moments of silence hung in the air.
Reva cleared her throat. “I’m sad. Deeply sad, Merritt. None of this is how I wanted things to be.”
He placed his mug on the deck beside his foot. “I know. I feel the same. It’s hard not to consider what might have been.” His voice cracked as he struggled to continue. “I regret it.” Then, looking at her, he added, “All of it.”
He stood and turned to face her. Taking her hand, he removed her mug and placed it on the side table. Then he gathered her other hand in his and brought them both to his lips. He kissed her knuckles lightly.
Immediately, her anxiety faded away. Merritt Hardwick had that effect on her. Something in her spirit remembered she was safe in his presence.
Reva reluctantly pulled her hands back. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something before you go.”
He quickly shook his head. “No, I need to get on the road. My plane is waiting at the airport, and I don’t want to risk the media picking up on the fact I’m here. News hasn’t broken yet, but it will. Likely within hours.”
His reality sobered her. “Are you going to be all right?”
It was a stupid question. Of course, he wasn’t going to be okay. He faced a humiliating disclosure of what he’d done, followed by lengthy legal negotiations that would no doubt end in prison time.
With luck, he would serve his sentence in a facility like where they’d sent Bernie Madoff and Martha Stewart. Federal white-collar criminals, and especially politicians, often served their time in what was termed Club Fed facilities, minimum-security establishments with low violence and amenities that rivaled many hotels. Still, he would be incarcerated, and the life he’d known would vanish along with his political aspirations.
His finger went to her cheek. “You know me. I’ll be fine. I’ll have the best legal team.”
True. His father was wealthy and would fund his defense. While Merritt’s political career was over, he’d step out of the prison walls into a cushy corporate job on the board of one of his dad’s many enterprises.
His eyes had never looked more captivating. She touched his arm. “I’ll be praying.”
“I know you will.” He knit his fingers with hers and guided her back into the house and out to his waiting car.
“Well, I guess this is it,” he said, using the exact phrase he’d said seven years ago when he prepared to depart for D.C.
She nodded. “Yes, another goodbye.” She tried to smile and found it painful. “It was good seeing you—even under these circumstances.” She squeezed his hand before releasing it.
Merritt reached for the car door handle, then suddenly turned. His eyes filled with desperation. “Reva, you were a wonderful person to love. It felt good to love you—and to be loved by you. I just want you to know that.”
Melancholy filled her. She gave him a tender smile. “It was the easiest thing I ever did.”
5
