He stood then, smoothly, putting the ring box back in his palm as if he didn’t want to trap her in a tableau she couldn’t escape. He didn’t pocket it yet. He just held it, waiting.
Lacey pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady her heartbeat.
“I love you,” she managed, and it came out like a plea. “Please hear that. This isn’t me rejecting you. This is me…being terrified of making the wrong decision. I guess I am overthinking again.”
Roman’s face softened. “Kind of.”
Tears blurred her vision. “We haven’t even known each other three months.”
“I know,” he said.
“That’s not enough time,” she whispered, even though some part of her hated the logic of it. “Not for something this big.”
Roman’s jaw tightened slightly, not in anger—more like pain. “What would enough time be?”
“I don’t know,” she said, and it sounded lame. Because it wasn’t the time stopping her—was it? It was fear.
Fear of making a mistake, of losing everything, of…ending up like her parents—divorced.
Because the truth was that no amount of time could guarantee safety. No amount of time could promise she wouldn’t lose herself. No amount of time could keep her from getting hurt.
On a sigh, Roman looked out at the water for a long moment, the sun now half-gone, the sky deepening into a richer, darker gold.
Then he looked back at her.
“Tell me what youcansay,” he said quietly, “right now.”
Lacey squeezed her eyes shut. Her lungs burned.
“I can’t say yes tonight,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
Roman nodded once, slowly.
“Not yet,” he repeated. “Okay.”
She opened her eyes and a tear fell. “I need time. I need to go home and think without the sunset and the champagne and—” She gave a broken laugh. “—without you looking like the best man in the world on one knee.”
A faint smile touched his mouth, but his eyes stayed teary.
“I don’t want you to say yes because the moment is pretty,” he said. “I want you to say yes because you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” she insisted, desperate. “I mean…I mean the love part. I mean the us part. I just— Roman, I’m scared.”
He stepped closer and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her in a firm, steady hold. Lacey clung to him instantly, burying her face against his shoulder, breathing him in—salt, clean cologne, warmth.
“I know,” he murmured into her hair. “I know you are.”
She shook, a silent sob, because being held like this felt like everything she wanted…and everything she feared losing.
After a long moment, Roman eased back just enough to look at her.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” he said softly. “We’ll go back. I’ll get you to your car at my house. You go home. You take tonight. You take tomorrow morning. I leave tomorrow afternoon.”
Lacey’s chest tightened again. “Not yet might not mean by tomorrow,” she whispered.
“I know.” His gaze locked on hers. “I’m not going to drag you there. You get to choose this.”
She nodded, miserable. “Okay.”
