She bit her lip and tears pooled in her eyes.
The Eliza he’d known all his life was strong but had never had to take this many blows. She seemed to be so knotted up in her own feelings she couldn’t see that those silly notes were just lies designed to discourage her. And because she couldn’t see that, they’d worked.
But the hurtful words had also exposed a deeper issue than believing some silly lies penned by silly women. How could he help her?
Tell her the truth.
The thought hit him again, more insistent than the last time.
He didn’t want to hurt her.
The truth will set her free.
The truth from Scripture came to him, bringing with it a peace he hadn’t felt this whole trip. He loved Eliza. He’d done everything he could to encourage her in her grief and confusion. But maybe it was time for some honest talk about what was really going on.God, please give me the right words.
Devin stepped forward and took her hands. “You refuse to trust other people, Eliza. You rely on yourself too much. I hate to say it, but I don’t think you’re trusting God either. For your future. For your work. For anything.”
She blinked rapidly but didn’t say a word.
Well, it was time to lay it out on the table. “You know how much I care for you. How much your friendship means to me. And I’m not trying to wound you...” His words tumbled out. For an English professor, the difficulty he had putting acoherent sentence together made his cheeks flush red. But he refused to give into the frustration tightening his chest. “Eliza... you need to know something before I go back to Pittsburgh. I don’t want you to say anything, just... hear me out.” How should he say this...? He shook his head and just plowed on from his heart.
“We’ve shared everything—well, almost everything—with each other for twenty years. What you don’t know ... is that I love you, Eliza.” Just speaking it out loud, his shoulders loosened. Perhaps the truth was setting him free too. While his insides tumbled, he also relaxed. Relief? Probably. After all these years, it spurred him on. “And not just the love of family or friendship. I’ve loved you with my whole heart since I was still a kid. At sixteen years old, I knew my heart was yours. No other woman has ever interested me. Not even when all my pals tried to set me up on dates. It’s always been you.”
The band around his heart was all but gone. Not that he wanted his love to be a burden, but he wanted ... noneededher to know why he had always championed her with such vigor. The difficult part was she also needed to know why he’d never acted on it.
He licked his lips and squeezed her hands in his. “But we come from two different worlds. Thankfully, those worlds collided when my father became your tutor. And I will be forever grateful. I wouldn’t trade our relationship for anything. I wouldn’t trade all the years I’ve loved you for anything.”
Taking a deep breath, he looked her in the eye and fought the tears clogging his throat. “But I’ve got to let you go now.”
The questions in her eyes were almost too much for him. He couldn’t tell her that he’d made a promise to her grandfather. That might make her think less of the man who raised her, and he couldn’t do that to her.
A sob escaped her lips. “Devin—”
“You’ve got to let me finish.” He held up a finger. “I’m releasing you. I have to. Before my heart shatters and can’t be repaired. Perhaps I’ll go back to Pittsburgh and find a nice, boring librarian to court. Or someone from church.” An awkward chuckle escaped him. Perhaps his stupidity would break the tension. “You need to continue with your work and let that passion guide you. God gave it to you for a reason. Use it.”
She studied him, tears streaming down her face, but didn’t say anything. Her green eyes were full of... what?
He wasn’t sure.
“Stop being afraid, Eliza. Trust God.” He dared to step even closer. Releasing her hands, he cupped her cheeks, her skin soft against his hands. Never would he forget this moment. It was seared in his memory.
With a brief kiss to her forehead, he closed his eyes and released her. Finally. “I’ll always be your friend. I promised. Remember?”
She nodded and a couple of tears slipped down her cheeks. “I remember. But Devin”—she blinked several times, her mouth snapped shut, then opened again—“I—”
“Good-bye, Eliza.” He couldn’t let her say something that would make him feel better. He’d shared his heart. Released the burden.
It was over.
Something inside him wrenched apart. He turned and walked back to the wagon that would take him to the train.
“Good-bye.” Her soft word didn’t soothe.
It cut and sliced and stabbed at him.
fourteen
“Sometimes I think I am a fool.”
