“No. I have to do this on my own.”
“You’ve been living with PTSD for years. Has dealing with it on your own helped?”
A hollow feeling settled in Zac’s stomach. “That’s not the point.”
Willow started to say something, then stopped. She lifted her chin, holding her mouth firm as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Zac stepped closer. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was that he couldn’t be the man she needed. But she moved away, distancing herself from everything he wished he could say.
“I need to check on something in the kitchen.” She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “If you could set the rest of the tables, Mabel would appreciate it.”
And before he could say anything, she left the room.
Zac sat in the nearest chair. Instead of being relieved that Willow knew how he felt, he was devastated. He had turned his back on the most amazing woman he’d ever met, and he didn’t know if his life would ever be the same again.
Chapter Eighteen
Willow openedthe door to Nick Costas’ gallery. The drive from Sapphire Bay to Bozeman had given her a chance to think about Zac and his decision to end their relationship.
Last night, she’d hardly slept. Instead of continuing to toss and turn she’d turned on her computer and read lots of information about PTSD. It seemed to her that each person’s symptoms were completely different. Sometimes the ways PTSD showed itself were so obscure that it could easily go undetected. For other people, it was devastating.
She prayed Zac could find a way to manage the symptoms he experienced. Because, as difficult as it was, his PTSD wouldn’t go away.
“Willow! You have arrived. How was your journey?”
Mr. Costas’ thick, Greek accent made her smile. “The roads were clear and the weather was wonderful. I’m glad I decided to drive instead of flying here.”
“We live in a beautiful part of the world.” He tilted his head to one side, studying her face. “You are tired. I hope you have not been worrying about the exhibition.”
Willow shook her head. “I’ve had a few other things on my mind. Do you know how many people are coming to the gallery on Saturday night?”
“At the moment, we have sixty guests. By the time your exhibition opens, that number could reach close to eighty.”
Her eyebrows rose. “That’s a lot of people.”
“It is when they are all enthusiastic art collectors. You have a special gift, Willow. It is time to show the world what a talented photographer you are.”
Willow’s heart sank. Not that long ago, she’d heard the same words from Ian. It seemed as though the whole world was pulling her in different directions. And the only place she wanted to be was beside Zac.
“Come,” Nick said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It looks as though you need one of my special cups of coffee and a little plate of kourabiedes.”
“What are koura…kourabeeds?”
Nick smiled. “They are pronounced kour-a-bie-th-es and are little Greek almond cookies, sprinkled with powdered sugar. My great-granddaughter has been baking for her pappouli.”
Willow’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t know if it was because she was tired or because Nick reminded her so much of her granddad. After spending the night alone with her thoughts, knowing Nick cared about her was enough to make her cry.
“It is all right,” Nick reassured her. “You look as though you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Come into my workroom and tell me what is wrong.”
Willow found a tissue and blew her nose. “I’ll be okay.”
“That is what Mia, my granddaughter, used to tell me before she met her husband. What you forget is that I was once a young man, too. I know when a heart is breaking.”
Instead of making her feel better, more tears filled Willow’s eyes. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Nick opened the workroom door and sat her on a chair. “We will talk after you have had something to eat and drink. The heart cannot mend itself if the soul is not nourished.”
Willow sent her friend a wobbly smile. “They’re beautiful words.”
