Right now, it could be enough. Right now, I’d take anything I could get. And that scares the shit out of me. Because in the end, I’d still be who I am—a guy who doesn’t believe in marriage and failed at the one serious relationship he attempted. A guy who took advantage of her when she was tired and scared and lost, somewhere unfamiliar and alone, knowing he couldn’t be what she deserved.
I won’t be that guy.
I pull up behind the sedan. “Do you have the keys?”
Eden nods, grabbing her backpack and pulling a key ring out of a small pocket.
We get out of the car together. She unlocks the sedan’s trunk, and we begin swapping the quilts from that car to our rental.
We’ve just transferred the last quilt when the door of Grace’s house opens and a man steps out.
Paul. He takes in the scene, eyes scanning icily over me, then softening on her.
Goddamn it, he has no right to look like he’s glad to see her.
“Eden,” he says. “What are you…?”
“Getting my quilts,” she says. Her voice is hard, and God, I want it to stay that way; I want her to keep her defenses up; I want her to take her quilts and run away from him as fast as she can.
I want her to run away from him, and I want her to run to me.
24
Eden
Paul shuts the door to Grace’s house behind him, descends the steps, and approaches us.
Rhys steps closer to me, crowding me with the strength and warmth of his body, and all I want is to lean into it.
He bends and murmurs, “I’ll take the quilts and go find a cheapish bag I can check them in for the flight back. There was a box store back a couple of miles. Text me if you need me.”
Don’t go,I want to say.Stay.
But I don’t. I don’t have any right to ask more of him than he’s already given, and the truth is I have some things to say to Paul.
Instead I tell Rhys “Thank you” and try to let him know with my eyes how much it means to me. That he brought me here and that he’s going to help me get the quilts back to Rush Creek. That he still, after all this, has my back.
Then he’s gone, taking the warmth of his body with him, leaving me standing on a sidewalk in a strange town, facing my ex-fiancé. The rental car starts and pulls away, and inside, I’m still calling out to Rhys in my mind,Don’t leave.
Paul has paused on the path, his eyes on the departing car. “What—what was he doing here?”
Such a good question, and I don’t think I know the answer anymore.
I give Paul my blankest expression. “He wanted to help me get my quilts back.”
He blows out a sigh of relief. “Of course. I thought…”
But he doesn’t say what he thought.
“Eden.” This time my name sounds like a plea. And when I look up at his face, it’s all guilt and apology.
“You stole my quilts.”
“God, Eden, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“You knew you had them and you didn’t turn back. I asked you to, and you blocked me.”
“I needed time to think,” he pleads.
