But there wasn’t anything I could do about that now. The fact was, perhaps a new place would be a fresh start in every way now. No memories of Anna or of Sandy would haunt me there.
At least, I told myself that.
I bent to lift another box when the doorbell sounded, and I set it aside to answer the door. A courier waited, handing me a large, flat parcel. My heart fell when I saw it, knowing full well what it was. I signed for it, then carried it to the living room. I set it on the sofa, carefully unwrapped the box and the packing material, and stared at the contents.
It was a print of the painting Sandy had loved at the museum. I had purchased a copy and had it framed and paid extra for fast shipping. I had planned on giving it to her as a surprise, hoping she would want to hang it in my new place and come visit often to see it.
Except now, she wouldn’t be coming to my new place, and I wasn’t certain she would want this gift, even if I gave it to her in the context of friendship. She’d already given me back the shawl I bought her—still in its wrappings. I’d found it on my desk when I returned to the office from a meeting. I had stared at it, unsure what to do, then simply put it in the trunk of my car and left it there. It was too painful to bring inside.
That odd ache was back in my chest when I woke in the mornings, if I was able to sleep at all. Only this one was new and fresh. Deeper in some ways. Anna had no choice but to leave me. Sandy walked away. I knew I needed to stop thinking about her.
Yet, I couldn’t.
We had been cordial and professional the rest of the week after she broke things off with me. As a rule, we didn’t often have much interaction, so if I didn’t see her every day, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. This week, however, I constantly had papers for Bentley to sign, invoices for Maddox, and reports for Aiden to go over. It felt as if I was in the executive area several times a day.
Sandy was polite, courteous, and removed. She always waved me in or let whatever partner I needed know I was waiting. She offered coffee and a blank smile, her voice carefully neutral.
It broke my heart to see her increasing fragility appear before my eyes. She looked wan and tired. Broken. It reminded me of how she looked after Max died, and once again, there was little I could do to help her since it seemed I was the cause of her altered state. She didn’t want my comfort, even though I was desperate to give it to her.
To their credit, none of the boys said a word. They treated me the same, although I saw their worried glances toward Sandy and the confusion in their eyes when they looked at me. I knew I didn’t look very good either.
All of us were suffering in silence.
I huffed out a sigh, wondering if I should give the picture away. The sudden rumble of thunder startled me, and I went to the window, lifting the curtain. The skies had darkened as the hours passed, and I’d been busy packing. A storm was coming, the clouds heavy with rain.
I dropped the curtain, feeling the ripple of uncertainty pass through me. Sandy hated storms. Last weekend, I had held her, soothed her during the worst of the squall. How would she make it through the storm today? What would distract her?
I shook my head. It wasn’t my business—Sandy made that clear. She wasn’t my business.
Except, as the thunder rolled, I didn’t care. I knew she’d be scared, and I hated that. Hated the fact that she would face it alone, the way she had decided she had to face everything. On her own.
I looked at the picture and made a decision. I wasn’t done yet. I had things to say and Sandy was going to hear them.
Determined, I slid the picture back into the box and headed to my car.
I was lucky and found a parking spot two houses down from Sandy’s place. The rain had eased off, now just a gentle beat against my window. The thunder was muted and low, but I knew it would build again. According to the weather channel, it would come and go for the rest of the day.
I took advantage of the break and grabbed the box, carrying it up the steps. I entered the porch, the door squeaking in protest as I opened it, and I set down the picture. I knocked on the inner door. Waited. Knocked again. Then I rang the bell. There was no sound from within. I tried the door handle, but it was locked. With a sigh, I gave up—it was obvious Sandy wasn’t home. Maybe with the storm approaching, she’d decided to go see Colin. Or Reid. At least she wouldn’t be alone. The rain picked up outside, and I decided to leave the picture behind. She would see it when she got home.
I pulled a pen from my pocket and wrote a quick message on the box.
Memories of a wonderful weekend
Think of it with a smile.
Always, Jordan
Maybe it would start a conversation and we could go from there—slowly. She might return it to me. I had no idea, but I hoped she would keep it. I prayed it might spark something in her that made her reach out.
The porch door squeaked again, and I let it slam shut behind me, too tired to worry about it. My head felt heavy as I returned to the car, my footsteps dragging. I slid behind the wheel and let my head fall back, closing my eyes. They burned with unshed emotion.
I had been so sure, so certain of us. That I was ready to move forward, that Sandy was ready. We meshed so well all weekend. Making love to her was akin to being reborn for me. She awakened all my senses, and now it was painful returning to that semi-numbness. Yet without her, I didn’t even want to try. I had no desire to date anyone else, build something with a stranger.
Because in the past few days, I accepted the fact that I was in love with Sandy. And the depth of my love wasn’t something I could turn off or transfer to someone else. She was the key to my future, but I had perhaps pushed too hard, and now that future was lost.
I wiped my eyes and turned the key, waiting patiently for the windows to clear. Realizing I had caught my coat in the car door, I opened it and tugged the wet hem inside, slamming it shut. I pulled away, driving slowly, noting the thunder ramping up, and the rain coming down harder.
I glanced in my rearview mirror and froze. Behind my car, running and waving her arms, was Sandy. I slammed on the brakes.
What the hell was she doing outside during a storm?
I threw open my door, getting out and turning her way. She was barefoot and dressed in casual clothes, which were wet and clinging to her frame. In the brief moments she’d been outside, her hair had plastered to her head. It was obvious she was crying.
“Sandy,” I called out, confused. “What the—”
My words were cut off as she launched herself at me. I caught her to my chest, picking her up off the ground and holding her close. I felt the violent tremors in her body and absorbed her sobs.
I held her tight, unsure of what was happening.
“Don’t let go,” she begged over and again. “Don’t ever let me go.”
I held her closer, relief running through my body.
“Never.”
Sandy
I wrapped my shawl tighter around my shoulders and shivered. The house felt cold today—or maybe it was just me. I had barely slept four hours all week since telling Jordan I couldn’t see him anymore.
I couldn’t get the devastated look on his face out of my mind. The pain in his eyes. The tears that mingled with mine when he kissed me and walked away.
I was certain I had done the right thing. I wasn’t ready.
Except, since breaking it off with Jordan, I couldn’t escape the pain I felt. It was as virulent as when Max died, but different. Fresher, more acute somehow. As if my body was telling me I was suffering needlessly.