“But I can’t leave her. I won’t divorce her.”
His words are like bullets, piercing my gut. I remind myself that I expected this.
I nod at him. “I’m not asking you to. But please... Will you just allow yourself to picture what it could be like? Between us? If I returned to America after my friends’ wedding and took the job with Dean? If I was the person you came home to? Not that I’m expecting to move in with you,” I mumble. “At least, not straightaway.” I cover my face with my hand. “This is so embarrassing.”
I know I’m asking a lot. He’s been trapped inside this life for so long that I don’t think he can conceive what it would be like if he didn’t have to live this way.
His fingers circle my wrist and he gently pulls my hand down from my face.
“Ihaveimagined that life,” he says, his eyes shining. “I wish—so much—that things were different.”
An idea comes to me, a last-ditch attempt.
“Give me today,” I ask him. “Be free, just for one day. You’ve given Laurie and her parents years. I’m asking for one day. I’m asking you, no, I’mbeggingyou, to not think about them today. Cast aside your guilt and your responsibilities for a single day and be here, with me,completely. I’m going back to England on Saturday. You never have to see me again after that if you don’t want to. But please, Anders, let me have today. You owe me that much.”
I absolutely detest myself for resorting to emotional blackmail. He owes me nothing, but making this poor man feel as though he also has some sort of duty tomemight be the only way to persuade him.
It’s for his own good, I remind myself as Jonas’s words come back to haunt me:He’s fucking drowning, Wren.
Anders studies me, his jaw twitching, and hope begins to fill my heart because it’s clear that he’s thinking about it.
I’ve pushed him so hard, which is very out of character for me. But I don’t want to leave knowing I could have fought harder. I’d rather live with embarrassment than regret.
“Today,” I repeat. “Just you and me. Here and now. No guilt, no remorse. Just openness and honesty between us. Please.”
He’s still staring at me, and on impulse, I reach out and run my thumb over the creases between his eyebrows.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a half laugh, mildly amused despite the intensity of the situation.
“I really want to get rid of your worry lines.”
He catches my hand and presses his lips to my wrist and my stomach contracts, my breath hitching, my eyes widening all at once.
“Today,” he whispers with intent.
My heart leaps.
“Today.”
39
What did you think, the first time you saw me?”
We’re lying on our backs, our hands intertwined blissfully between us as we stare up at the trees. The air around us is filled with the sound of birds chirping and water tumbling over rocks in the nearby river.
I’m tingling all over, my blood zinging in my veins, but my heart still hasn’t recovered from the stress of the last half hour. I’m not sure when I’ll get over it, if ever, but I’ve put my discomfort into a box along with Anders’s guilt. I’ll deal with it later. As will he. It will be much worse for him, of course.
“I thought, ‘Who is that hot goth emo chick dancing to Stevie Nicks at the bar?’ ”
I turn my head and laugh at him. “You did not.”
“I did,” he insists, grinning at me. “Well, apart from the ‘goth emo’ bit.”
I roll over onto my side, not letting go of his hand.
I can’t believe I’m holding his hand...
“Why, what did you think of me?” he asks.
