“Okay.” She let go of his hand and patted his knee. “Okay. Don’t worry. What happened last night doesn’t have to change anything. Let’s just consider it a one-time fling between friends.”
He didn’t protest. Didn’t let the anguished howl in his head emerge from his mouth. Didn’t reclaim her hand and refuse to relinquish it.
She eased herself from the bed. “I’ll be heading out now. I don’t think you’re needed for filming today, so try to get more sleep if you can.”
He’d been looking down at the sheets, self-loathing sourin his stomach. When she grabbed fresh clothing and began to get dressed, though, he raised his head.
How could he let her leave like this?
“Lucy,” he said, “I don’t?—”
But he didn’t know how to fix the problem, not at a price he was able to pay. So he shut his mouth again.
She didn’t urge him to finish his thought. Instead, she smoothed a fresh tunic and skirt into place and dropped the worry stone into her pocket. Then she hefted her backpack and caught his eye.
“You’ve been so generous to let us stay in your house. But I think Hairy and I would do fine in a hotel. I’ll pack my things and get him this afternoon, after filming is done.” She mustered a weak smile. “Kitty will be vastly relieved.”
If she left, she wasn’t coming back. Not before the move, not after.
“Lucy…” He licked his lips. “I…”
No. There was nothing to say. Nothing left but logistics and darkness and heartbreak. And maybe a final gesture to show he cared, although not how much.
“I’ll feed and walk Hairy this morning. Don’t forget your glasses.” His voice remained steady, exactly as he’d trained it to do. “They’re on the table in the corner.”
“Thank you, Seb.” She donned her glasses and blew him a final kiss. “Take care.”
“Take care,” he echoed.
Then she was gone from his bedroom. Gone from his house.
Gone from his future.
TEN
Lucy was pleasantly surprised.After baring her heart and having it summarily crushed by her best friend, disappointing Allie and a cable television crew was proving comparatively nontraumatic.
Jill frowned. “Where’s Sebastián?”
“He’s already devoted so much time to this search.” Lucy manufactured a smile. “And as he rightly points out, this has to be my decision alone.”
“He doesn’t have”—Jill’s fingers drummed against her clipboard—“feelingsabout your situation he’d like to share? Ideas about what you should do, or about options other than the three homes you saw?”
“Nope.” As the hair and makeup artist tutted over the redness around Lucy’s eyes, Lucy couldn’t sustain her façade of good cheer. “He definitely didn’t share any feelings.”
Over the years, he’d shared so much with her. His time, his effort, his protection. As of last night, even his body. But he couldn’t give more. Wouldn’t. So she refused to deny the truth any longer: He was a good friend. A good man. Not a good life partner, at least not for her.
She had to trust her judgment. She had to believe she was worth some sort of declaration of emotion, some sort of reassurance her feelings didn’t eclipse his.
Maybe Sebastián loved her. Maybe he didn’t. Either way, if he couldn’t express it, if he couldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable and acknowledge how he felt, whatever emotion he possessed wasn’t something around which she could shape her life.
She believed. But she couldn’t believe alone, not when it came to love.
“I think our viewers will be disappointed not to see the two of you together one final time.” Jill still appeared hopeful. “Can you call him and ask him to come?”
Enough. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. And while I appreciate your concern for the show and for him, I’d rather not discuss this anymore. Thank you, though, Jill.”
The producer strode over to talk with the crew while Lucy rubbed her worry stone and got presentable for the camera. Then, almost before she knew it, filming had begun, and she was facing Allie once more.
