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“You never wrote back.”
“What was I supposed to say?”
He shook his head, the harsh planes of his face angry in the shadows of the dim lamp next to him. “Jesus, Eve. Anything. You were supposed to say anything.”
“There was nothing to say,” she bit out. “You told me you had feelings for me. For the first time you admitted you felt something more than friendship, and you were already gone. What was I supposed to do with that?”
“Eve—”
“You were already gone! You should never have told me any of that.”
“I had to. You were my best friend. I had to tell you.”
“Your best friend?” she snapped. “You walked away from me. That letter made everything worse. It made me want things we couldn’t have. You just left me here and went on with your life.”
“I had to try to fix my marriage.”
“I know that!” she yelled, jumping up from the couch to rush to the kitchen for more wine.
“Eve.” He moved toward her as she uncorked the bottle. She stared down at the empty glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. Her hands shook too hard to pour it.
“It’s over now. Julia and I both gave it the best we had. Maybe we tried too hard. Maybe not hard enough. I don’t know. But it’s over now. She’s dating again, and I...”
Eve finally managed to pour the wine. She let his words hover there and took a long drink. She hated the hope that snuck deep into her veins. She hated it and she wouldn’t indulge it. Closing her eyes, she shook her head, but Brian still spoke.
“I’d like a chance, Eve. If you’re not seeing someone else. Hell, even if you are. I’d like a chance to find out if this is something.”
She shook her head again, harder this time.
He cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s not right. I know it’s something, at least for me. I’d like to see if it’s something for you, too.”
“No,” she finally said, the word bursting from her on a wave of panic.
“I know it’s not right. How it started. The way we felt. We should have stopped being friends. I should’ve been strong enough to walk away from you before I did, but you were so... God, I felt at peace with you, Eve. Content. But fucking tortured, too. Please, Eve, just...”
He touched her then. He touched her. His warm fingers closed over her wrist with no force at all, just a question. Just a hope.
Oh, God. God, it felt like atoms colliding. Like energy being created in some heretofore undiscovered way. The force of it surged into her veins and heat suffused her whole body. It was all she’d ever wanted. His hands on her. His warmth tangling with hers.
Her lips parted so she could draw more air as she watched his thumb slide over her racing pulse. Could he feel that? Did he know?
“I can’t,” she said.
“Yes, you can.” His voice had gone dark and rough. “You want it, too. For a long time, I wasn’t sure how you felt. I told myself we were just friends, that friendship was all you wanted, and my fantasies were just that. Fantasies. But once I was sure... Jesus, it was all I could think about, Eve. Wondering how you’d react if I kissed you. Wondering how it would be for us.”
She pulled her arm away. “I can’t.”
“If you need time—”
“I can’t. You should go. I can’t do this. Just...” She rushed toward the bathroom, cradling her warm wrist, trying to hold on to feelings she didn’t even want. She shut the door and locked it, needing to shut him out.
He was so wrong. Wrong that she’d only wanted to be friends. Wrong that he was the only one fantasizing. And wrong that she could do this now.
She’d buried all those feelings. She couldn’t resurrect them now. He’d left her alone in this damn place with all these memories. He’d had a life and a companion and a new place where he could think without seeing her in every corner. He’d gotten that space he’d needed. The space that men always seemed to take as their right. She’d been left with his ghost and the cruelest of goodbyes. I think I’m falling in love with you. I have to leave.
Everything she’d wanted, laid out just beyond her reach. What the hell had he wanted her to say? Please leave your wife? Please choose me?
Eve put her hands to the sink and leaned close to the mirror. “Fuck him,” she said to her own pale reflection. He couldn’t just leave and then step back into her life because he was finally ready. Hey, baby. Thanks for staying on that shelf
