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"Perhaps." She looked up at him. Tears glistened in her almond-shaped eyes, but they didn't fall. "I was destroyed at the thought of you being with another woman. I didn't understand about needs and longings. I didn't know how wonderful it was and why you'd want to do that with her."
"Dammit, Megan, you're the one I wanted. You're the one I loved." He wanted to go to her and hold her, but he couldn't. Not yet. She had more to tell him. He wondered if her words would continue to rip his heart, or if eventually it would eventually become numb to the pain.
"I wanted to believe you," she continued. "When we met by the stream, I really wanted to hear that you were innocent. I kept waiting for you to explain about being with Laurie. But you never said a word."
"I didn't think you knew. It's not something I'm proud of."
"I felt that if you were lying about that, you might be lying about everything." He started to interrupt, but she held up her hand to stop him. "I see now that I was afraid to believe in you. If I really thought you were innocent, I would have to be at your side defending you. I couldn't do that. I was too afraid. Afraid of what my father would say. Afraid of what Laurie had been able to give you that I couldn't. I was afraid of everything."
"You could have just said that," he told her, then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. The demons returned and he didn't know if he had any strength left to fight them. It had been seven years since that afternoon. Why did it still matter what she said?
"I know. But I knew if I admitted that to you, you would convince me. You were always very good at convincing me of things."
"Not good enough."
She shifted on the seat. He didn't bother to look at her. He could hear the rustle of the coverlet. "I didn't mean to say those things. They just came out."
Then the demons won. He was swept out of the hotel room toward the bank by the stream. He could see the green leaves on the trees, feel the heat of the summer afternoon. Megan stood before him, a frightened young girl, not yet sure of her way. Her face had been pale, her eyes wide with apprehension.
"I won't go with you," she'd said, her body stiff with what he'd thought was disgust but now understood was fear. "I won't. Leave me be, Justin. It's over. If you're going, then go, but I don't want any part of you."
"I thought you cared about me. We're engaged." His body was numb. He'd had to force the words out slowly.
"Not anymore." She'd raised her hand to her neck and taken off the delicate chain that he'd given her as a symbol of their pledge. The chain had been the only thing of his mother's that he'd kept. Megan had tossed it at him. He hadn't bothered to put out his hand, and it had fallen to the ground.
"Just like that," he'd said sadly, wondering how much this was going to destroy him. Each breath hurt more than the last. Every part of him screamed with pain, with emptiness. Not Megan. He couldn't lose her. She was the only decent thing in his sorry life. "I love you."
"I don't love you," she'd said spitefully. "You're a fool if you thought I ever did. Who do you think you are, anyway? I'm Megan Bartlett. I know who my father is. You're just that bastard Justin Kincaid. You'll only ever be a bastard. Go away. Go away!"
Her shriek had rebounded through the forest, vibrating against the trees and the ground, forcing him to run. He'd turned from her and fled into the cool silence, away from the words that would forever echo in his mind.
He'd left the next day. Had left Landing determined to become that which the town believed him to be. A criminal and a troublemaker. He'd been determined to forget Megan, as well. He had done neither. In the end, he'd found
himself facing what he'd fled from. Here he was, seven years later, listening to Megan say she'd been wrong.
But it was still too late.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He opened his eyes and stared at her. "Why do you care about them?" he asked, fighting his anger. "Why the hell does it matter what other people think? What is the hold everyone has on you? Damn you, tell me why."
Her mouth opened twice before she could force out the words. "I can't."
"Is it me?" he asked, clenching the arms of the chair to keep himself from rushing to her side to grab her and shake her until she confessed. "Is it your sister? Is it Gene?"
