As I churned through my thoughts and feelings over the next day, trying to determine whether or not I felt any of that for him, I came to the firm conclusion that as of right now, I just couldn’t. Jonas had died less than five months ago. Perhaps sometime, someday down the road, I would look at Sean and be able to see him in that light, but my heart was still firmly tied to Jonas that any thoughts of indulging in romantic feelings for anyone else felt like betrayal.
I sat in that conclusion for another full day, and then I walked the few feet from my front door to his and knocked.
His footsteps approached the door and then paused. He was looking through the peephole. Sean couldn’t open the door for just anyone.
The locks clicked and ground open, then the door swung in and he stood there, his face apprehensive but softened somehow.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“Of course.”
He stood back and I walked in, going to his living room and the chair that had the most back support. He sat across from me, his smile faint. “I was trying to give you time.”
“I know. And I needed it.” I sat back and looked at him, for the first time allowing myself to see the depth of feeling in his gaze as he watched me. Had it been there all those years ago? Maybe. I couldn’t remember. But I realized it had been there since he’d come to take care of me. It had been there every day, but I hadn’t seen it because I wasn’t ready for it. I still wasn’t ready for it.
“You were right,” I said, staring at my hands as they twisted and clutched in my lap. “You said I had too much going on in my life to be able to deal with…this…and you were right. It’s too soon for me to even think those thoughts. There’s so much…” I rolled my hands in front of me. “So much going on inside of me right now that I can’t identify. Trying to work out if, and when, and how I might feel about you is—”
“I know,” he said. “It’s the very worst time. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to, really. I just thought it was a known factor for both of us. So when you asked, I just answered honestly.” He shrugged.
“I don’t want things to change.” I needed things not to change.
“They won’t. I’m still here for you, Libby. I’m here for what you need, not for what I want.”
It was a relief to hear. It was what he should have said, what was right.
But there was a little part of me that latched on to that last word. Want. And the implication that what he wanted…was me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In all my lonely
Bruised and busy life
The world spun faster
Than my broken heart could fight
But light breaks through
You are
You are
You are
My starlight
Shining my shadow away
Making me want to stay
—Sean Amity
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It took a while for me to regain my sense of equilibrium. I didn’t want to treat Sean any differently, but in trying not to, I did. So I stumbled through the next week, embarrassed half of the time, frustrated other times. Frustrated with myself, not him. I was suddenly self-conscious. Each time he looked at me, I wondered if it meant something more.
Sean, for his part, really did treat me the same. He’d had more practice than I had—years of practice—so it shouldn’t have been surprising. He acted the same, but the things I saw in him were different. I assigned different motivations to his actions than I had before, and that made it more difficult to respond the way I had before. I hadn’t wanted things to change, but there was no going back after a revelation like that.
I did my best though, comforted by the fact that Sean seemed to understand completely that I couldn’t go there with him. Eventually I found my footing, using Sean’s steady presence to anchor me.
He continued to walk in my back door almost every morning. Sometimes he’d bring me a smoothie. Sometimes he’d make me food. Mostly he was just there. My living room was his writing space, where he would pick out melodies on his guitar and scribble notes on a notepad. Half the time he stayed at my house even when I was at work. I think he was more comfortable there—in the home I had made—than in his own temporary housing.
We were sitting on my back porch, drinking iced tea as the sun went down.
“I have to admit,” Sean said as he took a loud sip. “I feel very southern right now.”
I smiled, thinking of just how different his everyday life must be, living here by me. “Do you miss it?” I asked. “Your other house? Do you miss the space and everything?”
“No.”
“Really? You don’t miss the cleaning service or the cook?”
“I get to cook with you most nights. What’s to miss?”
I gave him a look.
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Libby. This life that I’m trying to live here, beside you, is so different from the life I live anywhere else.”
“And that’s… a good thing?” It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand it. I was of the opinion that this life was way better for him than the life he’d been living, but it surprised me that he recognized that. I still expected him to crave the busyness, the screaming fans, the fancy hotels.
His lips curled in amusement. “Yeah.”
“So you’re not using my living room as an office because you don’t have room in your own place?”
He gave me an are-you-crazy face. “What? No. Is that what you think? That I’m using you for your space?”
“No, I just can’t imagine that my griping and moaning is all that conducive to your creative process.”
“Do I need to get out of your hair more?” He wasn’t teasing. He looked uncertain, really wanting to know.
“No. Having you there…” How could I phrase this? “The company is good for me, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to be there.”
He was quiet, looking out at the sun setting behind our privacy wall. After several long moments he looked down at his glass of iced tea. “I like being here. It feels like a home. My place in Newburgh never felt like anything more than a house.” He glanced over at me, his smile relaxed, open, honest. “And I like being around you, knowing that you’re okay. Knowing when you’re not okay,” he conceded with a nod.
His words took me by surprise, making my throat feel tight. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “Yeah, me too.”
We lapsed into silence and watched the sun set.
♪♫♪
I had my coffee thermos and my purse in hand, ready to rush out the door when Sean let himself in the back door.
“Sorry, I have to get to work early today.”
He closed the back door and quickly jogged ahead of me so that he could open the front door for me. He stepped aside and held the door as I tried not to let my hurried step turn into a waddle.
“I’ll see you this evening.” I paused as I passed him, lifting up on my toes to peck him on the mouth.
It was his stunned expression that made me realize what I had just done.