When she lowered her head, seemingly unable to meet his eyes, his soaring heart sunk like an anchor.
She whispered something he couldn’t hear. His voice was louder than he would have liked when he asked, “What? What did you say?”
She lifted her head, and he saw her eyes were filled with tears. “I can’t, Spiro. I wish I could. I wish I was a different person.” She hiccupped on a sob as a tear spilled over her bottom lid and raced down a cheek he knew from experience was warm and satiny soft. “I wish I was someone who was...worthy of you.”
“What are youtalkingabout?” His agitation was evident in his voice. “Youareworthy of me. You’re the only person who’s ever looked at me and seenme.You’re everything I’ve ever wanted but didn’t think I could have. Mia—”
“But I’mnotworthy of you!” she wailed. “I’m not who you think I am!”
His mind flew back to the conversation they’d had about marriage, to his feeling that there was more to the story, more to her reasons for not wanting a happily-ever-after, than just not thinking she’d be any good at it because she’d never been shown the way.
“Then who are you?” he asked quietly. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The tip of her nose was pink when she shook her head. “I can’t.” Her thin shoulders quaked, and he motioned for her to come closer.
“Of course you can. You can tell me anything.”
His frustration and his panic increased when she shook her head again and, instead of coming closer, she actually took a step back. A step away from him.
His heart lurched in his chest in a bid to follow her.
“But Ican’t,” she insisted. “Because I want you to always look at me the way you’re looking at me right now. Please, Spiro...” For the first time, he experienced no joy when he heard his name on her lips. “I want...I want to live in a world where you’re out there somewhere thinking of me as someone who’s good. Someone who could be worthy of you.”
He shook his head helplessly. “What are you talking about? You don’t think you’re good?”
She didn’t answer him. Instead she said, “But it wouldkillme if you ever saw me the way I see myself. The way I am.”
“Mia, I—”
“Time to check your vitals and do another breathing test,” the big, male nurse who’d worked the day shifts boomed as he sauntered into the room. His gaze pinged between Romeo and Mia, and he was quick to add, “Or I could come back in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes,” Romeo blurted at the same time Mia said, “No. Please, do what you have to do to make sure he gets better.”
Andre looked unsure as he watched Mia walk stiffly to the door. Romeo didn’t need a mirror to knowhelooked panicked.
Maybe it was arrogant, but he’d never wanted a thing so much only to have it beyond his reach. Not that he could remember wanting anything or anyone as much as he wanted Mia. But the things hehadtruly gone after? He’d always gotten.
Maybe I’ve lived a charmed life after all.
“Mia, don’t go,” he said hoarsely, feeling like if she walked out the door, he might never see her again.
She stopped at the threshold, and he felt a moment’s relief. It was fleeting, because the next words out of her mouth sounded like goodbye. “Thank you, Spiro. Thank you for loving me. It’s the greatest honor of my life. But you deserve someone so much better than me.”
And then she was gone.
Chapter 25
Five days later...
Doc walked into Romeo’s hospital room and smiled when he saw Romeo sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed not in an indecent hospital gown, but in jeans and a T-shirt. Doc was also pleased to note Romeo’s color was back and the beard he’d grown while recuperating was gone.
In fact, the bastard looked healthy enough to run a marathon. And the only way anyone would know he’d been shot in the chest a week and a half earlier was the outline of the bandaging showing through the thin cotton of his shirt.
Thank you, germ gods, for sparing my friend.
Doc had been worried about Romeo developing an infection ever since he’d had to open the guy up on the sandbar. Not that Doc wasn’t used to battlefield triage. He’d done it plenty of times during his eight years in the Navy. But plenty of those times his patient had gone on to need high doses of antibiotics, because a nonsterile environment was heaven to microscopic bugs that liked nothing better than to wreak havoc on the human body.
Thankfully, Romeo had turned out to be one of the lucky few who’d experienced no complications and whose healthy body had allowed him to heal at an astonishing rate. After he finished slipping into a pair of leather flip-flops, he lifted his head and gave Doc a desperate look. “Please tell me it’s time to go.”
