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“You don’t have to explain, Ian. I was expecting this,” she said with a sad shake of her head. “I didn’t want to be right. I hoped I was mistaken, but I knew how this night would end.”
He looked mildly stunned by her cold response. Apparently he thought flowers and a good excuse would get him off the hook. “How does it end?”
“It ends with you going your way and me going mine. Just the way it should have when we left the mountains. You and I both know we were putting off the inevitable by trying to make things work between us.”
“No,” Ian argued, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she pulled away. “Bree, listen to me. I was on my way here when Missy barged into my office and threatened to sue me. I dealt with her as quickly as I could and rushed over here. I didn’t want to miss this. Tonight was supposed to be special. I wouldn’t have deliberately ruined it.”
Bree shrugged. It sounded like a pretty fantastic story, but the truth was it didn’t matter why he’d missed the show. A pileup on the expressway. An emergency with one of his artists. A flat tire in the rain. There was always something and there always would be. That was just the kind of man he was.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re having more trouble with Missy,” she said. “But I’m not interested in excuses, Ian. My father was always full of excuses and apologies. He never blew off school programs or special events on purpose. He wanted to come, but time and time again, his work interfered and he’d promise to make it up to me next time. I don’t blame you for being late. At the same time, I don’t have to tolerate it, either.”
Bree watched a parade of emotions move across Ian’s face. Each of them lasted only a second, every one different from the next, leaving her unsure of what he was thinking or feeling. At least until he spoke.
“Tolerate it? You don’t have to tolerate it?” Ian repeated her words with incredulity. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “You know, that’s funny you should say that considering what I’ve tolerated with you over the past week and a half.”
Bree was taken aback by the unexpected assault of words. What had she forced him to tolerate? Her cooking? An unwanted photo session? “With me? Like what?”
“Like your constant needling to change me. You act like you want to be with me, Bree, but you really don’t. You want to be with that coffee-shop musician from nine years ago. You practically shoved that guitar into my hands, nagging me until I had no choice but to play or listen to you go on about it. You didn’t give a damn how I felt about the whole thing. I had good reasons for not playing that guitar, but you didn’t care. When you looked at me, all you saw was this fantasy musician you lost and were desperate to get back. Never mind what I wanted. Never mind what was healthy for me. You wanted what you wanted and you were determined to get your way.”
“How dare you! You’re acting like I forced you into a life of crime instead of convincing you to face the fact that you’re unhappy with your life. You miss your music, but you just won’t admit it to yourself because you’re afraid to play and fail again. Don’t pin your insecurities on me just because I’ve been successful. I told you the other night that I didn’t love you just because of your music. I love you for you and I just wanted you to be happy again. I’m sorry if that makes me into some kind of harpy.”
Ian flinched at her words, his gaze narrowing at her. “Yeah, Bree,” he said at last with a mocking bitterness underlying his words. “I’m sure you’re only interested in my mental health and well-being.”
Bree could feel her entire face flush in anger. H
er heart pumped furiously in her chest, making the sound of her blood racing in her ears almost deafening. She glanced around the room and noticed that everyone was gone now. She didn’t know if they’d left on their own or the scene she was causing with Ian had made them uncomfortable and driven them away. She supposed it didn’t matter at this point. It was better not to have an audience for this, anyway.
“You know, my father made it tonight,” she said. “The King of Emergencies. The Duke of Last-Minute Meetings. He was here for once in his life. On time. He sat through the entire introduction of me and my work, staying around to look at every picture. When he left tonight, he told me he was so glad he could be here and how proud he was of me.”
Ian didn’t respond to that. He just stood there, watching her with a tightly clenched jaw.
“And sitting here, alone, I realized how pathetic it was that I was so pleased he came. Somehow it negated the twenty-eight years he missed. And it shouldn’t have, but I wanted his approval so badly. I wanted him here for my big showing. That’s all I wanted from you.”
Ian swallowed hard, considering her words. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you tonight. I’m here now. I brought you flowers. I was prepared to...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Apparently that’s just not good enough. You know, all I ever wanted from you was to be accepted the way I am. Most people would be pleased with a wealthy, successful businessman, but not you. No matter what I do, I’m never good enough. I got enough of that from my father and my college advisors. I certainly don’t need it from you.”
Bree felt a momentary hitch in her chest. “You are good enough, Ian. You’re more than good enough. You are an exceptional person. The only person who doesn’t believe it is you, but how can I convince you of that when all you hear are criticisms?”
“So you’re saying it’s my own fault I feel like a loser? Thanks, Bree. That really helps.”
“No! I would never—”
Ian held up his hand to interrupt her. “No. It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel however you want to feel. But know that we’re adults now. We’re not kids anymore. And adults have responsibilities. I have responsibilities. I would’ve loved to have been here with you tonight, but it just didn’t happen. I had to do what I could to protect my employees, my artists and their families. Instead of standing here looking at some amazing pictures, I was being threatened by a woman who wants to take away everything I’ve worked years to build. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my priorities, but I had to make a decision and that’s what I chose.”
For a moment, Bree wanted to stop the fight and find out what happened with Missy. This had obviously been more than her usual diva hissy fit. But she didn’t get the chance.
Ian gestured toward his throat. “I’ve had it up to here with criticism today. We’re obviously fighting an uphill battle. I don’t have the time or the energy to waste on this...because I’m so busy,” he said, bitterly mocking her criticisms. “You can’t accept me the way I am, so I guess you’re right about us going our separate ways tonight. There’s no point in this relationship going any further.”
Bree felt a sharp pain in her chest, as though he’d finally driven the dagger into her heart. It knocked the wind out of her, took away whatever fight she had left. Despite what she said, she didn’t want to lose him, even if it was for the best. She was broken. “Fine,” she said quietly, her lips nearly trembling with the tears she was struggling to hold back.
Ian nodded, his expression solemn, his green eyes moving over her face without really seeing anything. “Congratulations on your showing tonight. I’m sure it was well received. Good luck with your future endeavors.”
At that, Ian turned and walked out.
Bree watched him go, then slumped back down onto the bench. This night was good and truly ruined.
Eleven
“Are you just going to sit around the house all day?”
