Could he have ever forgiven himself if something had happened to her? Considering he still carried a heavy burden of guilt over his mother’s death, maybe not.
This discussion hadn’t resolved anything, and it was time to head home. By the time they got there, maybe he’d have a better handle on what to say about what had happened, what he’d learned about her situation, and where they went from here.
He shoved his seat back from the table. “You stay here and finish your meal. I’m going to get Tom to help me load your bike in the back of my pickup truck.”
Her eyes sparked bright with temper. “I can ride my bike back home.”
Mikhail planted his hands on the table and leaned in close. “Don’t push me on this, Amy. Right now you can barely hold yourself upright. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you back on that bike right now.”
She glared at him for several seconds before speaking again, her eyes reflecting both anger and hurt. “God, you sound just like them. For the record, Mikhail, I already have four brothers who try to boss me around. I don’t want or need another one.”
And just that quickly, that line they’d erased was back, this time the gap between them so wide and so deep he doubted they would ever find their way back to each other. Ignoring the surge of crippling pain burning through his chest, he did the only thing he could that wouldn’t make an already bad situation worse. He walked away.
