Bridget pressed a hand to her heart. “That isn’t how I thought our final moments together would be,” she murmured. “It isn’t what I hoped for.”
“She didn’t mean those things,” Reeves said. “She’s upset that you’re leaving, that’s all. I know how much she cares about you,Bridget. How much you’ve meant to her. I hope you won’t carry what she just said away with you, because that was just anger.”
“I know,” Bridget said softly. “I’m used to children speaking out of anger. And this wasn’t the most important moment the two of us shared, just because it was the last one. When I think of Emma, I’ll think of the happier times, not of what happened today.” She sighed. “I just hope that she will, too.”
“She will,” Reeves assured her.
He’d have said it anyway, just to reassure her, but he was surprised to realize that he meant it. Seeing Emma struggle to say farewell to Bridget had made him realize what an impact Bridget had left—and how little he wanted that impact to be erased.
He knew what he was promising. He would have to commit to speaking to his daughter about Bridget, to keeping the memory of her alive. He wouldn’t be able to let her fade away from their lives, the way he had intended to.
But maybe that was right.
It would be hard to miss Bridget. Hard on both of them. But they’d never be able to forget her. She had meant so much to both of them, and it was best to keep those memories alive, even if doing so was painful.
He swallowed. “The carriage is waiting outside,” he said. “You probably want to get on the road before the sun gets too high. You need to make it back to the orphanage by nightfall.”
Bridget nodded. “All right,” she said. She hesitated a moment longer. “I want to say… well, I want to thank you, Reeves.”
“You don’t have anything to thank me for,” he said. “You’re the one who helped us, not the other way around.”
“I know,” she said. “But you did more for me than you might realize. Getting to be here, to be a part of your family for the time it lasted… this meant something to me.” She bit her lip. “I never had a proper family. The closest thing I had was the orphanage. And I know that isn’t what you and me are to one another, of course, and I don’t mean to imply that it’s anything more than what it is. But I did feel like I was part of something while I was here. I’m grateful for that.”
“You were part of something,” Reeves said gruffly. He was both grateful to her for finding the words to express all that and uncomfortable with the fact that she had. It was difficult to process, difficult to balance. He wanted to tell her that she had meant the world to his family in the time she’d been with them. He wanted to tell her that the mark she had left on them would always remain.
He wanted her to go, so he could get away from these feelings.
The most important thing in his life was, and would always be, Emma. He couldn’t allow himself to get caught up in affectionfor this woman, no matter how special she had turned out to be to him. He had to let her go. And she had made it clear that leaving was what she wanted, which only made it that much more important that it happen quickly. Emma was already far too attached to her, as this morning’s farewell had clearly shown.
So yes, she had been a part of something. She had been a part of this family for the time she’d been here.
But now that time was at an end, and they were doing themselves no favors by romanticizing what had happened.
“Let me help you carry your things out,” he suggested to her, holding out a hand for her bag.”
But Bridget shook her head. “I can manage on my own,” she told him. “It’s what I’ve always done.”
When they had arrived here, she had allowed him to help her with her things, but now she was pulling back from him.
He nodded, forcing himself to accept it. “I hope you have a safe journey,” he said. “Thank you again… for all you did for my daughter.”
For all you did for me,he did not add.
He couldn’t possibly have quantified the difference she had made in his life. He couldn’t have described, even if he had wanted to, what it meant to know that he was capable of caringfor someone else. To know that someone other than Emma could grow to matter to him.
I love her.
The words came into his mind unbidden, and he pushed them away. He had no idea whether that was true. He had never been in love. And even if it were true, it was something that would do no good whatsoever to admit. He would only hurt himself—hurt both of them—by worrying aboutlove. They were going to separate, and that was that.
She turned and walked out the door toward the carriage.
Reeves followed on instinct, as though tied to her by an invisible string and towed forward. He could have remained in the house. There were footmen out there to help her, and she had turned down his offer of assistance.
But letting her walk away felt like something was being tugged out of the pit of his stomach. In a moment, she was going to get in that carriage and ride off, and then he wouldn’t be able to follow, but he found himself prolonging the inevitable. He stood in the winter cold by the side of the carriage, trying his best not to let on that the air was chilling him as he watched her hand her things to the footman. Her bags were loaded into the carriage, and then there was nothing left but for her to climb in herself.
The desire that swept through him in that moment had the force of a hurricane. He wanted to grab her and pull her back, to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted toconvince her to stay, to tell her they were both being foolish to let this happen. It didn’t make sense for them to walk away from one another when what existed between the two of them was so good. He hadn’t felt anything like it before in his life. Not even with Rosalie.
He had believed he never would.
