“Does this mean you don’t want to be our partner?” he asks.
“Can we go sit down?” she says. “We should talk about this.”
Her answers stay direct. Clear.
She understands him.
Something in me constricts.
I can see them together. She understands him in a way no one else does.
Am I a good enough friend to walk away and let them be happy without me?
Chapter seventy-five
Christianna
I am safe, I chant to myself. And I realize I don’t feel cornered standing between these two men. I feel protected.
Erik’s question jars me. It pierces something deep when he speaks as if he isn’t enough on his own.
I take his hand and lead him to the couch in the living room. I sit and pat the cushion beside me. Erik sits, his eyes searching my face for answers I haven’t given yet.
“Erik, I’m honored you asked me this. I truly am.” I look away, blinking against the pressure building behind my eyes. “I don’t know if I can be in a relationship. This is one of those times where it isn’t you. It’s me.”
I swallow. “Something broke me all those years ago, and I don’t know if I will ever be healed enough to move forward.”
“Because of your daughter?” he asks, simply.
I recoil before I can stop myself, panic fluttering sharp and sudden. “How do you know about her?” My voice breaks.
“I was at the cemetery when you visited her,” he says. Easy. Unadorned. No defense in it.
I take a shallow breath and jolt when Remy sits on the table across from me so he can face us both.
“Tianna.” He reaches out, grazing my hand lightly, reverently. “You don’t have to talk about this. We didn’t mean to intrude.”
He shoots Erik a sharp look.
I swallow and inhale slowly, closing my eyes as I breathe. I feel Erik stand and move away. My eyes snap open in time to see him heading for the kitchen.
I start to rise, but Remy’s hand closes gently over mine, steadying me.
I look down at him, at the concern in his warm brown eyes, then turn back toward the kitchen.
Erik is already returning, the bottle of water we left on the counter in his hand.
Damn it.
I have no defenses against this.
Being cared for. What would it be like to have this all of the time? Is it even possible?
I take the bottle and drink deeply, letting the coolness ground me.
“Come back and sit down,” I say quietly.
He does.
