Page 91 of Every Little Kiss
Liv flipped the laptop around, and any uncertainty he had over the cause of her pain died fast and hard. Every question left his head, and he couldn’t speak past the article staring him down.
He recognized the photo of Bullseye in his rappelling gear, recognized the terrified boy huddled next to him, but the one thing he didn’t recognize was the look of utter betrayal on Liv’s face.
“I was going to tell you.”
She choked out a mirthless laugh. “Over breakfast in bed, or after you’d left town for good? Because you still had another week to string me along.”
“I was waiting for the right moment,” he said, but knew it was a lie.
“The right moment would have been when you ran into me that first day,” she said, swiping angrily at her tears, and he could tell that her hands were shaking. “Or maybe when I brought Bullseye over to your house. That way, instead of worrying myself sick over my son swearing that a dog really flew down from the sky to rescue him, I would have thought, ‘Hey, maybe he just saw Ford’s dog come down from the chopper that airlifted him out.’”
Her chin started quivering in an attempt to hold it together, and it nearly did him in. “But even if those times weren’t perfect enough for you, then how about when I sat in your office, told you that if anything was awkward between us, then you could bail. No harm done.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, but he knew there weren’t enough words in the world to make up for the ones he’d so selfishly withheld. “When I came back to Sequoia Lake, I had no intentions of making a connection more than to see how you were doing.”
“I was doing just fine.” She smacked her chest so hard he felt the thud in his own. “Paxton was doing fine. So why come back and dredge it all up?”
“I had to see it with my own eyes,” he said, and the truth had never sounded so callous. “I knew what you’d gone through, and I couldn’t let go. So when you asked me for help, I thought that this could be one last thing I did to help you move forward.”
“One last thing?” she said on a shaky breath, tossing the laptop on the bed. “What do you meanone last thing?”
She shook her head and took a step back, her hand slowly gripping her heart. “Oh my God.” She took another step back—away from him. “The gifts, the flowers, Paxton’s summer camp. That was all you? Two years of boxes on my doorstep, of wondering who was sending them, two years of lies? Is this some sick game you play—sweet-talk a lonely widow into bed and give her one last good time?”
“God, no.” He took a step forward, but she held up a shaky hand.
“Sweet-talk her into thinking she’s going to be fine?” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “That she’s worthy of finding love again? Of being loved?”
“You are so damn worthy it hurts.” But he could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t believe him. Didn’t believe that she was lovable.
“Do you know why I came here that first time?” he said, because even though he knew it would sever any hope he had for winning back Liv, he knew that she needed to hear it. “I sat next to a dying man and listened to him talk about his wife for twelve hours. About how beautiful and amazing she was, and how she’d filled his life with warmth and love. About how his biggest regret was that he wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of eternity caring for her the way she deserved to be cared for.”
Ford took a step closer and took her hand in his. “His love for you was so raw and deep I couldn’t help but promise to deliver his Christmas gift to you.” Liv reached down and touched the platinum-and-diamond necklace Ford had rescued from the trunk of Sam’s car and delivered to the hospital.
He’d watched as the sheriff handed her the box, explaining that it had been recovered, then left her alone in an empty hospital room with the last thing she’d ever receive from her husband. Only, she hadn’t opened it—she’d clutched it to her chest as if it would fill the empty gap if she pressed hard enough.
Ford had stood in the shadows waiting for her to cry, because he knew that it would be the first sign of letting go, but she never cried. She finally opened the box and gave herself a minute with the necklace—he’d timed it—before she slid it around her neck and went to check on Paxton.
Ford couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when he’d decided to continue sending her gifts from Sam, only that her unwavering determination was the cause.
“He loved you, Liv,” Ford said.
“You think I don’t know that?” she said. “I’ve always known that. What I didn’t understand was how love could be solitary. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be a part of a team, but never finding someone who’s willing to put the relationship first. They’re too busy making all ‘the right’ decisions that they never take into consideration what’s right for me. For my son who’s going to mourn the loss of yet another person in his life when you disappear.”
“I don’t have to disappear,” he pleaded, taking her hand. “Reno is only an hour away.”
“And what, you come into our lives a few days at a time? And then when you’re finally able to let go of this tragic case, you move on to the next case? Once again, you’re not thinking about what I need and want.”
“What do you need?” he asked, his head pounding with desperation.
“I need honesty, openness, a choice in the things that affect my happiness.” She took her hands back. “You can’t give me those things.”
“Yes. I can. All I ever wanted was to see you happy,” he said, his voice shaking now too.
“And just like Sam, you decided what I needed to be happy. Instead of letting me find my own path to happiness, you swept me off my feet, let me believe that I was starting a new chapter. Only you want to know how the new one is reading?”
No. He didn’t. Not right then. Not when her eyes were filled with a defeat and anguish that made his chest hollow out. Because for the first time since that day in the hospital, Ford saw a flash of the woman who knew that gaping hole was never going to go away.
“A lot like the last one. And the one before that,” she cried, a fresh pool of betrayal lining her lashes. “Only this time, it’s even worse. I can’t say that the last man I made love to actually loved me back. Or that loving someone would never be something I could ever regret. Becausethis”—she pointed between them—“I can’t ever trust whateverthiswas.”
“It doesn’t matter how we met or how we got here. What matters is how we feel. In here.” He pounded his chest. “I love you, and you have to trust me, Liv. We can make this work.”
He reached out to cup her cheek, but she turned her face. “That’s the problem. I can’t trust you. It took me two years to get to this place, to open myself up for a future that wasn’t bound by my past. And with one secret you ruined it all. Including my ability to trust myself.”
Ford’s chest tightened to the point of pain. He would have given anything to go back to that day in the hospital and deliver Sam’s gift himself. Because watching her shut down and curl back into herself was killing him.
“Sam wasn’t your responsibility, and neither am I,” Liv said, and the words cut through him, leaving a hole he was certain was visible. “You don’t have that kind of power, Ford. You never did.”
