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“Sunny, unlock this door!”
She heard Ty’s shout and the pounding of his fists on the front door, but she paid no attention. Instead she stepped out of the silk dress and flung it across the room, where it settled in the corner like a landing parachute.
“I’m warning you,” he shouted.
Sunny smeared her makeup as she wiped tears from her eyes. What a fool she’d been to think herself still in love with Don. All that heartache, for nothing. All that pain, for nothing. Why had she borne the humiliation and ridicule? Why had she protected him?
She kicked off the dyed-to-match pumps. Then she stood stock-still. The sound of splintering wood, accompanied by vicious cursing, was followed by heavy footfalls in the living room.
Sunny stepped through the bedroom door, disbelieving that even Ty would have the nerve to break down her door. But it was standing open, hanging by one hinge, still vibrating from the impetus that had shattered its lock. And Ty, eyes as cold as a frozen fjord, jaw set as though hewn out of stone, was crossing the living room with a stride so determined that Sunny’s racing heart stalled.
At some point since leaving the church, he had shucked his black tuxedo coat and untied the bow tie. It was still hanging around his neck and made him seem even madder somehow. The collar button of his formal shirt was undone, though the onyx studs were still in place between the pleats.
Fascinated into immobility by the fury he personified, Sunny maintained her position in the hallway. When he reached her, he jerked her up so sharply and so high that her toes dangled above the floor, barely touching it. “I ought to wring your neck for driving like that.”
“Leave me alone.”
He was the last person she wanted to hassle with, especially after last night, when he had once again verbally led her down the primrose path only to pull back with a casual “g’night, Sunny.” She wasn’t going to fall for his glib charm. Not now. Not ever again.
“Get out of my house,” she shouted up at him. “How dare you break—”
“Shut up! Didn’t you see me behind you?”
“Yes!”
“The flashing lights?”
“Yes!”
“Why didn’t you stop?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“What were you trying to do, kill yourself?”
“No!”
“Are you so heartbroken over that simp that you’d kill yourself because of him?” He shook her slightly. “He’s not worth it, you little idiot. Can’t you see it?”
Yes, she did. Ty’s harsh condemnation of her foolishness was no more severe than her own. She had wasted three years grieving over a man who had been magnified in her mind as much more than he actually was. She had been in love with an image, a figment that had risen out of the ashes of her decimated ego.
In that instant, she acknowledged the enormity of her folly and slumped against Ty. He supported her while her tears trickled inky stains down the front of his white tuxedo shirt. Then, dipping his knees, he curved one arm beneath her legs and swung her up into his arms.
He carried her into the living room and lowered himself into one of the overstuffed easy chairs. Keeping her on his lap, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, tucking her head safely beneath his chin.
Then he did nothing but let her cry. He indulged each racking, cleansing sob. Her tears ran out before his patience did. Even then, he sat still and silent while she hiccuped against his chest.
Only when they had ceased did he use a crooked finger to tilt her chin up and her head back so he could see her face. Using his thumbs, he wiped away the muddy tracks running down her cheeks. “Better?” Sniffing, she nodded. “He’s not worth crying over, Sunny.”
She blinked away lingering tears and brought him into cleaner focus. “I know.”
“You know? Then—?”
“I wasn’t crying over Don. I was crying for all the time I’ve wasted mooning over him.”
His eyes, which had been moving over her face compassionately, became still. Gruffly he said, “Tell me about it.”
Sunny, staring at the base of his throat where she could see a strong and steady pulse beating, began talking slowly. “For three years I’ve lamented what was probably the best thing that could have happened. I should have thanked Don and Gretchen.
