“Come on, Mike. From certain angles, Lauren resembled Sylvia, and you’re so transparent, everyone knew you were still in love with Sylvia.”
Me? Transparent? “But…”
“But nothing. You didn’t shortchange Lauren. She had her eyes wide open. It’s not like you got hitched on a drinking binge in Vegas, and woke up the next morning, not knowing who was in bed with you. You dated Lauren for years. She dated you for years. She knew exactly what she was getting into, and she chose you anyway. Well, for a while.”
Until she realized the truth about Sylvia’s hold on my heart.
Jake is watching me. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I think there are people who are destined to be together. They fall in love hard, sometimes right away, and no matter what happens, they never fall out of love. Everyone else is left in the shade. No one else compares. And those lucky bastards can pick up where they left off, whenever their paths cross again, whenever the situation is right.” He toasts me with his glass.
“I never knew you were a romantic.”
He lifts a brow. “Tell anyone and I’ll have to kill you. Okay?”
“Okay.” We grin at each other, he looks at his watch pointedly, and I head out.
To Sylvia.
I just have to follow my heart home.
45
SYLVIA
Ican’t stop worrying about Mike. It’s been hours since he called. What happened to his dad?
Is Mike okay?
And so, when his black pick-up comes down the drive to Una’s place the next morning, I halfway think I conjured him up, just out of sheer wishing.
But he’s real and he’s here.
He gets out of the truck, hesitating as he glances between the house and the trailer. My car is still parked beside the trailer, so he has to know that I’m home – although I could have walked downtown easily enough. It’s still early, but we were awakened in the wee hours. He can’t think I went back to sleep after that.
I step out the door of the trailer and I see the relief in his expression.
There’s something in his hand but I can’t see clearly what it is.
I do see that he’s devastated.
It’s funny because Mike is always so strong. I know that ittakes a lot to shake him up. He walks toward me slowly, his expression stricken. He holds up whatever he’s carrying, to show me.
I gasp when I realize that he has the bundle of letters in his outstretched hand.
My letters.
“They were in his desk all along. Sylvia.” His voice drops to an agonized whisper and I know it’s worse to have this tangible proof of his father’s meddling. “I’m so sorry.”
I close the distance between us so quickly that I don’t even know I’ve moved, then I’m holding him tightly, trying to console him with my touch.
He bends over me, this great strong noble man, his arms coming around me as he gathers me close. I feel him shudder and then he begins to weep.
“Did he die?” I ask softly and he nods.
I hold him tighter. I understand that he’s lost more than his father in the last twelve hours. I know he needs to release his grief, but my heart is breaking for him.
“How could he do it?” he whispers into my hair finally. “How could he steal this from us?” He pulls back to look at me, a kind man who cannot understand cruelty.
“I don’t know,” I say because I don’t. “But it was his loss.”
