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“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Meredith’s gaze darkened.
“What?”
“Susan’s got a great set of lungs,” she said. “And if she’s not using them, she’s not quite as alive as I’d hoped.”
God, she was infuriating. “Life doesn’t always have to be about conflict.”
“I agree,” she said, her voice soft, almost as if she was speaking to Kelsey or one of her students. “But if it doesn’t have any at all, it also can’t have its opposite and counterpart—pure joy.”
Just speaking the word seemed to bring a spark to Meredith’s face. Her lips curved upward, as if she had a special secret, and damn, he wanted to know it, too. He was tired. Had been fighting alone a long time. It was late. He’d just heard his daughter speak to him in a way he’d never believed possible—seen her go to bed without telling him good night for the first time in her life.
Though he instructed his eyes to do so, he couldn’t pull his gaze from Meredith’s lips.
“I have to go.” She stood up.
So did he.
“Do you know where I put my bag?” She fidgeted, glancing around the room. And then back at him, as if she couldn’t do anything else, either.
“I think it’s in the kitchen,” he said. “Susan brought it in from outside.”
There, he’d mentioned the woman he loved. The woman they both loved. They were on track again. Safe.
Meredith started to speak and then cleared her throat. Was her throat as dry as his?
“I’ll just go get it.”
Without taking his eyes from hers, he moved aside. She took a step. And then another.
“I’ll say good night now,” she half whispered, pausing as she passed him. “My car’s out back.”
“Thanks for…everything.”
Her head turned as she took another step. She was still watching him. “Of course. I’m always here if you need me.” She blinked, breaking the contact. And then met his eyes again. “If Kelsey does, I mean.”
He’d known what she meant. He started to tell her. She was so close. He nodded. Held out a hand as though to shake hers—to somehow solidify his gratitude. His fingers bumped her wrist.
And Meredith’s eyes clouded with pain.
“What’s wrong?” He stepped closer. “Did I hurt you?” He’d barely touched her.
She shook her head, her eyes glistening as though she might cry. He’d never seen her cry. Had hardly seen her lose her composure at all.
“I…” Meredith tilted her head, gazing up at him. Her eyes seemed to beseech him to understand what she couldn’t say.
He could have been in a wind tunnel, as clearly as he could hear at the moment. He didn’t seem to know much of anything. Except that he hadn’t meant to hurt her. In any way. At any time.
“You’re a very special woman, you know that?”
Trembling lips, a tremulous smile, were her only answers.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” The words were almost hoarse.
He didn’t know. The past. Their differences. The trouble his daughter was causing.
“This,” he said. And bent to touch his lips to hers. It wasn’t sexual. Wasn’t a come on or meant to be in any way disrespectful. It simply was.
