Page 27 of Second Love

“I love you.”

He said it so quietly, the words rushing toward her, she froze. Had she heard him right?

“What?”

“I love you.”

“I...” She scowled. Love? Love hadn’t even come into her mind. Love was something that you felt in your heart and she functioned in her brain. Everything logical and thought out, that was how she functioned.Except, you did think of love didn’t you?her heart whispered. “Well, I...”

“Am I stupid, Maddie? To have loved you for a decade... or more? Am I dumb for having come back for you?”

“Sawyer...”

“I loved you from about your thirteenth birthday. I never stopped.”

“But you just vanished. You’ve had twelve years to come back.”

He peered at her from under his brow. “I couldn’t come back. I wasn’t taking you down with me. I was never good enough for you and we both know it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You don’t get it, Maddie.” Sawyer turned away and stalked through the house.

She hurried after him, pressing aside curtains of plastic as she traipsed through to the hall. “Sawyer,” she called but he ignored her. His feet pounded heavily against the bare wooden staircase. “Sawyer!”

By the time she got to the top of the stairs, he was halfway down the corridor. He came to a stop in the end bedroom—the bedroom that used to be his. Now it was nothing but a bare room with a workman’s bench and sheets on the floor. He stopped in front of the window and peered out at the harbour. His stance was implacable. Arms folded, legs strong. To anyone else, he would seem powerful and invulnerable, but she’d seen pain in his eyes.

All her anger had dissolved at that pain. Now she just wanted to understand and maybe soothe. Either she was very foolish when it came to Sawyer or the pounding throb of her heart was right. She really might still love him.

The temptation to wrap herself around his back was strong, but the need to understand was stronger. She remembered a few times when Sawyer had stalked off and not wanted to talk. The best way to deal with him had been to treat him like a skittish animal. To approach slowly and not touch. To allow him to make the first moves.

So she moved behind him and spoke to his back. “Will you help me understand?” she asked softly.

His shoulders heaved and she heard him expel a breath. “It was a long time ago, Maddie. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

He lifted his head and his fingers flexed where he’d propped them against the window frame. Outside, small boats sailed up the river and tourists walked through the idyllic cobbled streets. Whether Sawyer was watching any of it, she didn’t know. She suspected his mind was lingering in the past over whatever made him feel he wasn’t good enough for her.

“You always fit in here.” He rotated slowly. His eyes were hooded and full of something—as though flooded with bad memories. “I never did.”

“Don’t be sil—”

“I didn’t and you know it. Everyone talked about me being the bad apple. I know your parents hated me.”

She couldn’t deny that so she remained silent.

“Hell, even my own father hated me.”

“He didn’t—”

“For years he hit me, Maddie. He hated me, trust me.”

Maddie gulped and put out a hand but he shied away. “Sawyer, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say?”

“He stopped eventually. It didn’t matter.”

“I wish you’d told me.”

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