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Twenty-Seven
“Well, don’t you look like a glowing ball of sunshine?” Blaine stood beside his hospital bed, his pride in his ability to stand evident in his smile, even if his posture wasn’t completely straight.
“If you like, I can always turn right around and leave.” She threw him a pinched glare, but held a smile and strode deeper into his overly white room, anyway.
“And I could threaten to chase after you.” His sea green-eyes sparkled. “But we both know you’d kick my ass. That said, I was about to go for a walk in the courtyard. Wanna come with?”
“It’s good to see you’re making progress.” She doubled back but waited at his door for him to lead the way down the quiet hall, chuckling at his blue hospital gown, which thankfully had a closed back. “Even if I’ve seen tortoises move faster.”
He laughed, not grimacing from any pain unlike last time, yet another sign he was improving. “Hey, three weeks ago I thought I’d be dead, I’ll take my tortoise pace in a heartbeat.”
She crossed the short corridor with him, then held a glass door open at the end that led to a red-brick path and the tiny courtyard, a heaviness settling in her chest. “Everyone in town will be glad to hear you’re doing better.”
Blaine shuffled past and across the linoleum floor, his gaze turned downward and his smile dropped by the smallest margin. His knuckles atop the walking frame were white, the veins on his hands bulging. “They should be more concerned about Emilia. She obsessively uses up every second of her hospital visiting hours. It’s a miracle I convinced her I’d survive while you visited today. She blames herself for Anthony returning. For me getting hurt. There’s no convincing her none of this is her fault.”
Sarah skimmed her gaze around the simple garden ahead, the manicured yellow roses, the lush green grass patches, and wooden benches that offered a hopeful view despite the subject matter. As usual, she came up dry of any supportive words, so she offered him a gentle pat on the back. Silent reassurance would have to be enough.
Blaine paused and drew a long breath, the task of walking taking its toll, even as his focus landed on her, pinched and a little gray. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
Her heart did a slow, dread-heavy beat. Blaine was still on the mend, and she wouldn’t bother him with her inane problems. But even on an off day, he read her like a book. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”
He strolled toward a bench, and then groaned as he sat. “How long have we known each other? The last time you came here you were off your game too, but I said nothing because I figured you were in shock like everyone else over what happened to me. But you’re even more rigid and cagey today.”
She shrugged and nudged a stray leaf on the ground with her foot, choosing to remain standing. “A lot’s changed, that’s all. I’m just trying to adjust.”
He lifted his gaze to the bright afternoon sun and squinted against its glare. “And these changes aren’t all because of me, are they?”
“If you ever want to give up being a carpenter, you could try for a career as a professional psychic, you know that?” She kept her tone flat and her expression on him light, hoping humor would distract him.
He did laugh, shaking his head like he appreciated her levity, but then a prolonged silence took over, giving her dreaded moments to think.
Even though she stared at the ground, the sting of his gaze burned her skin, bringing a harsh heat to her cheeks. He’d always had a way of seeing right through her attempts to hold on to her true thoughts, though Dean seemed to have the same talent.
Or maybe I’m not half as cunning with keeping my thoughts to myself as I figured.
The funny thing about this silence, it made her want to say something, to free herself of all she held on to.
There’d been a time when everyone in Harlow knew everything about her. Knew too much about her. She’d gone from being a golden child living it up in Florida and on her way to a spot on the pro-tennis circuit, to a sad outlier everyone pitied. One minute she’d lived a teen dream, and the next, a futureless nightmare.
The truth had hung around her neck like a concrete target, an impossible-to-hide drag that had turned her emotions and privacy into a precious commodity—a rare gem never to be shared.
Maybe that’s why she held her interactions with Dean so close to her chest.
Yes, she didn’t want the judgment. No more pitying looks…
Poor Sarah, ditched by her fiancé and now rebounding with the new guy in town.
But also, she had no idea what her feelings for him were, and if she did, she sure as hell wasn’t about to admit to anything.
And then there was something else entirely. A more innocent truth. That she reveled in having something all to herself. The joy in her secret intensified because her “something” was actually a “someone”.
But secrets had a way of growing bigger and bigger and needing somewhere to go. If she wasn’t careful, control of this particular secret would slip from her fingers. She’d lose the ability to determine what others knew.
Then again, even if she wanted to talk, now was not the time. Blaine had his own problems, and he was also her ex-fiancé, as well as Ally’s, and now Dean’s, employer. Her truth telling could wait for another time.
She peered down and gave him a tight smile, wanting to offer at least some kind of explanation. “I need to mull a few things over before I can put what’s going through my head into words. Does that make sense?”
He gave a slow nod and patted the empty spot on the bench next to him. “It does. Though I hope you won’t let whatever it is get you too down.”
