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A heavy weight pressed on his lungs and breathing took extra effort. “Why me?”
“Because…” She bit her lower lip and stared at the ground. “I don’t know how I feel here, and…”
“And what?” He took a quick step forward, then stopped himself from going any farther. “You’re afraid you’ll have to end things, and that would be mighty embarrassing for me, is that it?”
She pressed her lips into a hard line and drew a slow breath. “I don’t know.”
“Despite your ‘tough-woman’ act, you sure care too much about what other people think.”
Lines sank between her eyebrows, hinting at her simmering temper. “We were meant to be a secret, now we’re not. So, sue me if I’m a little shaken about this.”
He shook his head, a slow warning for her not to insult his intelligence. He wouldn’t be so peeved about the privacy thing if she were willing to let him in at other times. Her vague approach extended to their moments alone together, and he wanted that to change. He wanted to know what she was thinking, didn’t always want to be on the outside, searching for a way in. “One person knows. One person. So, what’s really upsetting you here?”
“One person is a bad sign.” She shrugged, like his argument was no big deal, but it was and he refused to be dismissed.
He scoffed, wanting to call her a coward, but caring too much about her to say it out loud. “So, you’re spooked now? You never struck me as someone to wilt at the first sight of an obstacle.”
Her lips made that flat line again, her indifference on display, only for a soft sheen to wash over her eyes.
For the longest time, she said nothing, only gave a small and repeated nod, her throat bobbing as she swallowed and eventually found her voice. “Not because of what they might say…”
A sudden stillness washed over him. For the first time in his life, a mild ache formed within, taking up space inside his chest and expanding outward. Her reaction, the watery look she gave was less about impending tears, more an expression of being uncharacteristically overwhelmed. But by what?
“Why does everyone just assume that because I don’t appear to be falling apart, I’m handling things just fine?” Her words answered his unspoken question, and she pressed her palm to her forehead, turning from him. “I wish I could be an open book like Ally or Emilia, but I’m not, Dean, I’m just not.”
“What things are you not handling?” He remained still, unwilling to curse this rare candid moment. To be fair, he’d never assumed she was just fine—more of an incoming storm hidden beyond the horizon… bound to roll in sooner or later. “Maybe I can hel—”
“I’m not over the hurt of being ditched for another woman, okay?” She dropped her hand and gave him a direct stare before her expression crumbled, and she turned again like the shame of snapping at him hurt her too. “Telling everyone the engagement was off, it was humiliating and my confidence is a mess. And here you are”—she shot a hand out to him, still not making eye contact—“just sweeping into town and asking me to be ready, because, why? Because you’re ready. Well, I’m not. I’m telling you I’m not. But believe me, there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s all me. Mebeing broken and hurt, and just wanting my life to stay the same.”
This time her gaze did meet his, but there was a harder, more defensive edge in her eyes. “Is it too much to ask to be left alone? For everyone in this town to just back up and give me some space?”
