Tess looked away. Bree was beautiful, even when she was upset. Tess fisted her hands and dug her nails into her palms. She wasn’t going to touch her scar. She knew it was still there and would never go away. Not just the rough patch on her chest. It seemed that metaphorical hole in her heart that her close call with mortality had magnified a little over a year ago wasn’t goingto go away either because Tess’s gut told her that there was no way in hell that becoming more deeply involved with Bree wasn’t going to suck Bree into danger too. Danger way worse than a welcome to town bribe or flat tires—that was just someone testing the waters.
What if Bree had been walking out of the courthouse with her that night she was shot? Or been with her tonight when she could have been killed in her car? Tess cared enough to know that she would never want to live with the guilt of allowing something terrible to happen to Bree. And now it was likely that both incidents were related to what Bree had revealed tonight. Bree wasn’t safe around her.
Tess had to convince Bree to leave her, for her own safety.
But Tess knew Bree—she wouldn’t accept her own safety as an excuse to end any chance at a relationship and just walk away if Bree had decided she was willing to take a chance on Tess.
And what if Tess was wrong? What if, despite how close they’d grown, Bree was about to break up with her, that she’d decided she had too much on her plate or wasn’t ready for a relationship or was worried about the ongoing workplace challenges two judges on the same court would face as romantic partners? Tess was in no state of mind to be rejected by Bree.
God, she wouldn’t deny they’d met with so much personal baggage. What she really needed to do, both for herself and for Bree, was convince Bree there was no room for negotiation, that she was making the call. She needed to pull herself together long enough to do what needed to be done. To do what was necessary so Bree stood no chance of being collateral damage, or she’d never forgive herself.
Tess blinked several times as she looked across the table at Bree. Then she took a fortifying breath and fought the turmoil playing out as the lump in her throat and the roar in her head—and the terrible ache in her heart.
“Bree, until tonight, I lived in hope we could find a way to move forward together, but maybe I should have paid better attention. But now you’ve added all of this information about the courthouse. It’s in both of our best interests if we don’t keep trying to pursue any kind of relationship. We need to leave Tahoe in Tahoe.” Tess did everything she could to sound resolute, to filter the sadness approaching despair from her voice. This was Judge Fairchild issuing a final verdict.
“I’m sorry, Tess. I’ve been so torn,” Bree said. “It’s true that I didn’t want a relationship with so much new going on in my life, but…”
“I’m not changing my mind, Bree.” She needed to be strong if she was going to keep Bree safe. She had to leave before she changed her mind. “We need to be done.” Tess stood up. She left her unfinished cup of tea on the table and picked up her purse. She didn’t want Bree to see her cry. She’d learned not to cry in front of anyone, and she wasn’t going to start now. “Be safe, Bree. Please be safe.”
Tess stumbled out the door of the small room. She continued on without looking back because she felt like she was falling into a deep hole that contained more conflicting emotion than she could deal with right now. She wasn’t just dealing with Bree, she was dealing with so much more. Tess held it together until she reached her car. She drove a block and had to pull over. She cried for the forty-seven years she’d never measured up. She cried for the close call she’d had tonight. She cried for the bullet hole that had been put in her chest last year. And she wept for the loss of Bree.
“Okay, what’s going on, sis?” Hank asked as he looked downat Bree from the ladder with a light bulb in his hand. “You pleaded. You begged. Me and my ladder—it was an emergency. When you called a week ago, I couldn’t get my old ass over here soon enough.”
Bree knew she look tired—her exhausted image stared right back at her in the bathroom mirror. Sad was probably a better word. And the bathroom wasn’t the place to have this discussion she didn’t want to have, but there was probably no better place either. She hadn’t been in any mood to see Hank after her disastrous meeting with Tess, but he’d called her every day this week about the light bulbs.
She’d finally agreed to a plan for him to swing by this evening and help her change out the old, flickering bulbs in the closet and the bathroom with the LEDs she’d purchased. Bree knew that her reticence to see Hank had offered him a heads-up that something was going on.
“That’s not true,” she replied. She’d only asked him once for his help.
“So, I don’t have an old ass?” Hank chuckled and waited for her comeback. When she didn’t answer him right away, he persisted with the questions. “Girlfriend problems?”
Bree had gone to work every day this week and done her job, but she hadn’t seen Tess except for a moment Tuesday afternoon when Tess had swept through the judges’ suite wearing her black robe. She’d shut the door to her chambers when she’d caught a glimpse of Bree.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“You could have fooled me.” Hank studied her. “And I’m no fool. Don’t tell that to Gabby either. She’s taking credit for getting the two of you together. You’re really going to take the wind out of her sails.”
“Well, my sails are hanging limp too. The term for when there’s no wind, it’s called the dark doldrums. Pretty dangappropriate.” Bree had hoped she was past the worst of the pain, but talking with Hank only made her aware of the deep ache in her chest. “In fact, my sails are feeling shredded right now. Maybe even a broken mast.” Talking to Hank resurfaced her anguish and made the breakup all the more real. She missed Tess so much.
“It sounds like you have it bad for her. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really like Tess, and I’d hoped it would. You want to tell me about it?”
“No—I don’t want to discuss it. Especially not with a fraternal shrink wannabe looming ten feet above me with a light bulb in his hand.”
“Maybe your big brother can help.” Hank waved the light bulb over his head. “Symbol of sudden insight.”
“Well, that one’s burned out.” She scowled up at Hank.
Hank climbed down the ladder. “Was it her fault?”
“Really? What does that even mean?” Bree knew she wasn’t in the best mood for this discussion, but she had no clue when she would be.
Hank ignored her bitchiness. “You know. Is there no saying you’re sorry? Kiss and make up? What did you do?”
“Now it’s my fault, huh?” She and Tess were complex women with painful pasts that impacted each of them, but Bree knew that she bore most of the blame for how things had turned out. There was no easy kiss and make up.
“You didn’t say it was hers. Come on. Spill. It’ll be good for your soul.”
“It’s not my soul I’m worried about.” Bree blinked a few times to hold back tears. “It’s my heart.”
