Page 206 of Share with Me

“May I throw that out for you?” Ivan pointed to her plate and fork.

Brinley lifted her chin. “Thank you.”

Something shimmered in her eyes.

“Would you like me to get you something else?” Ivan asked.

“Nothing. Thanks.”

Nothing from me?

No! That can’t be what she means.

As Ivan walked across the sand to the nearest trash can, he cautioned himself not to read too much into what Brinley said. They had been separated since the week before Valentine’s Day. He had broken her heart. She had every right to think nothing of him.

I have nothing to give her.

Nothing—

A realization hit him, the same way the other epiphany slapped him in the face in Atlanta when he had his heart-to-heart talk with Willow when she reminded him that in spite of his woe-is-me whining, his bad wrist was still attached to him. The broken wrist was temporary. He had mourned it like he had lost his wrist permanently.

I have nothing to give Brin.

Nothing but the love of God.

He doubled back to Brinley. She was getting up to go. “Brin, wait.”

Brinley looked back.

“We need to talk.” Ivan’s words came out in spurts, totally asynchronous to the backdrop of ocean waves. Only a musician would have noticed that, he thought. “Walk with me?”

* * *

“Ilied, Brin. You didn’t ruin my life,” Ivan said as they settled onto the wooden stairs of some beachfront hotel behind them.

Brinley kept her eyes on the ocean. Under the full moon, the Atlantic waves were shimmering silver and blue interspersed with dark and foreboding waters. Above the roar of ocean and the distant laughter and singing outside Seaside Chapel’s pavilion, Ivan’s words echoed in her head.

You didn’t ruin my life.

“I don’t hate you. In fact, I fell in love with you halfway through Bach that evening at your sister’s birthday party. Do you remember that?”

Of course.

But Brinley couldn’t speak. Something in her chest or throat or whatever, she didn’t know, had reminder her of her feelings on that Thursday evening when Ivan had walked her back to her parents’ cottage.

They memories slammed into her equipoise or what was left of it before Ivan had shredded it to bits.

“I’m sorry I’ve been stupid,” Ivan tried again. “Forgive me?”

Brinley said nothing.

“We may never get together again, but I want to walk away knowing you have forgiven me.” Ivan touched her hand, but she pulled away. “Okay, then. This is going to be hard for both of us.”

“You think?” Brinley glared.

“She speaks.” Ivan chuckled.

“Be serious, Ivan. Do you know how long you’ve inflicted your stupidity on me?”

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