“And?”
“And, nothing.” Nick slouched defeated in the leather chair. “Not even a text,” he admitted sadly.
Dr. Thantos stood and walked over to his bookshelf. He searched until he found what he was looking for. He slid a book out of the lineup. Without turning back, he asked him, “What do you know about survivor’s guilt?”
In order to see what the doctor selected, Nick stood and walked over to join him at the bookcase. Dr. Thantos handed him a paperback titled “Surviving Survivor’s Guilt.”
“Miss King was a no show for her last three appointments. I’ve called and sent emails and texts messages to no avail. If she’s dealing with what I suspect she is, she’s probably drowning in despair right about now. For a good woman like Rebecca, the guilt of loving you and receiving your wife’s heart is an agonizing weight to bear.”
Nick blew out a harsh breath and pushed his fingers through hair that hadn’t been cut since Rebecca left him.
“What the fuck was I supposed to do, let her die?!” Nick sighed and raised his hands apologetically for swearing.
The doctor sympathetically waved off his silent apology. “I know what you’ve been through, Nick. But remember,this partis about Rebecca.” Dr. Thantos squeezed his shoulder and handed him the book.
“Hopefully, reading this will help you better understand the demons she’s fighting.”
Nick nodded. What else was there to say? What else could he do but read the book that would explain why his woman had walked out of his life?
21
KING
Rebecca usedher Burberry scarf to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. She was in the most beautiful city in the world, and the best she could do was weep while standing in front of the padlock-covered fence on the Pont des Arts Bridge. To Parisians and tourists alike, she must have looked like a total nutcase.
Following her bucket list, she’d booked a flight to Paris the day before Thanksgiving. She had landed early enough the night before to find an American bar where she could enjoy whiskey and blues. When she woke up, she had hit the ground running.
Dr. Thantos was right. For an art conservator, it was a shame she’d never been to the “City of Love” and the home of the Louvre, the most famous museum in the world. Sadly, she couldn’t enjoy the beauty of the timeless art. Her brand-new heart was broken and missing Nick. She knew it the second she stood in front of the inconvenient glass encasement that protected the precious Mona Lisa, crying because she couldn’t share the momentous occasion with him.
To make it better, to somehow stave off the melancholy, she strolled along the Champs-Élyséespeering into a bunch of shops that she would never enter back home. And after a sad, lonely trip to the Eiffel Tower, she found herself on a bridge, staring at a thousand padlocks left by folks who, unlike her, weren’t afraid to love. She’d hurl herself over the railing, but a woman’s death had extended her life. The apparition of guilt that haunted her wouldn’t allow her to self-destruct.
She looked at the thousands of locks, left by lovers, amazed at how many had found love when she’d only just experienced, for the very first time in her life, a feeling of true, unconditional, I’ll do anything for you, kind of love. A love that she’d stupidly kicked to the curb.
Before the transplant, she was sure she’d experienced pain. But there was nothing more painful than everyday life without Nick. The guilt of toting his wife’s heart pushed her to a breaking point. If only she’d known… point break was losing the man, the very reason for opening her eyes every morning.
As she stood alone and feeling sorry for herself on a historical bridge stamped with the history of lovers far in the past, she knew she’d fucked up.
“Ma’am, I’m pretty sure if I’m not mistaken, this bridge is for lovers.”
Rebecca froze unable to turn. She was certain she’d heard Nick’s deep rumble. But she couldn’t have. She would have bet a finger that it was a hallucination until his hands cupped her shoulders and she inhaled a scent that was exclusive to him and irresistible to her.
“Nick,” she whispered with disbelief.
He wrapped sturdy arms around her, hugging her from behind.
“Please forgive me, Rebecca, but I had to find you. I love you.I need you.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and relaxed in his embrace. For the first time since she’d left him on a Chicago sidewalk, she inhaled. “What took you so long?”
She was comforted by the soft rumble of his chest when he chuckled. “I’ve been lookin’ for you all day, lady. Paris is a big city.”
Rebecca smiled. “Good job, Detective.”
Nick turned her in his arms and used a finger to lift her chin. After all the crying, she must have looked a raccoon mess as she was forced to connect with his oceanic gaze.
“Sergeant,” he corrected with a beautifully, sinful grin.
Rebecca reached up and caressed his chiseled jaw. He was smiling, but he couldn’t mask the sadness behind his eyes.
