It would have been easier just to let him pour the wine. She didn’t have to drink it.
“Cleaning up my act a little,” she said.
He sat down. “I was hoping to get you drunk tonight so I could seduce you.”
She felt her cheeks redden and looked down at her plate.
Paul leaned across the table to rest his hand on her arm. “You’re really furious with me,” he said.
“You’ve done some things that are hard for me to simply overlook.”
He nodded and leaned back again, pouring wine into his own glass. “I guess I can’t blame you,” he said, “but I did something today you’ll approve of.”
“What’s that?”
“I donated two of Annie’s stained glass panels to the library.”
She was truly surprised. “You did?”
He sipped his wine. “I can’t just quit cold turkey, Liv, but I’m working on it. The two underwater scenes in my living room. Plus the little oval in my car. The librarian was thrilled. Those panels are probably worth a lot more now that she’s…been gone awhile.” He pursed his lips for a second, as though acknowledging that Annie was dead still hurt him. “I’ll get rid of the rest of them in a week or two, as soon as I find the right place to donate them.”
“That’s good, Paul.” She tried to smile at him. “Whether we get back together or not, you really need to put her behind you.”
He flushed. “What’s your game, Olivia? Are you playing hard to get or what?”
“I’m not playing any game at all.” She looked at him, at the warm hazel eyes behind his glasses. “This is hard for me, trying to figure out how to behave with you. I’m terrified of trusting you, of letting my guard down around you. I’m afraid to commit myself to you when I’m not certain you can make a commitment yourself.”
“It worked before,” he said. “We just need to get away from here.”
She ate in silence for a moment before looking up at him again. “I’ve received a job offer,” she said. “At Emerson Memorial.” She described the call from Clark Chapman, as a smile spread across Paul’s face.
He set down his fork and leaned across the table again, reaching for her hand this time. “It’s a sign, don’t you think? A good omen. We move to Norfolk and start over. Start fresh. Tell him yes, Liv. Call him tonight and tell him.”
She shook her head, but left her hand in his. “I need to think about it,” she said. “I can’t jump into it that quickly.”
After dinner, he served her strawberry mousse in the living room, she on one end of the sofa, he on the other. She wondered how she could get him out of the house before he tried to touch her. He seemed to have no intention of leaving. He took off his shoes and raised his legs to the couch. “I reread
“Why?”
“I wanted to feel good. To feel close to you. It made me remember how I felt during those days when I was watching you in the ER and falling in love with you. Remember how wonderful it was?”
She laughed, bitterly. “It was wonderful all right. Forty-two people died. It was fantastic.” She regretted her nastiness as soon as she spoke. Paul stood up, a hurt expression on his face.
“You’ve changed,” he said. “You’ve become…callous.”
“I’m just afraid to feel close to you.”
“What do I have to do, Liv?”
“To start with, you could get rid of the rest of the stained glass.”
He nodded. “All right. Tomorrow.”
An arrow of fear passed through her, as she realized that even if he got rid of every tangible trace of Annie O’Neill, she still might not want the man who was left. “You made love to her,” she said softly. “That’s what hurts most. You can’t throw that away, and I’m always going to feel like that memory is still with you. If we ever make love again, I’ll think you’re comparing me to her. Or imagining I’m her.”
He looked stricken. “Oh, no.” He sat down, pulling her into a hug. “I love you, Liv,” he said. “I just lost my mind for a while, that’s all.” He tipped her head back to kiss her and she allowed the kiss, hoping she would feel something tender for him, but she wanted to bite his lips, to draw blood. She pulled her head away, awkwardly crossing her arms low on her stomach to keep him from touching her.
He leaned away from her. “I guess you don’t want me to stay over tonight.”
She shook her head.
“I miss you.”
She looked up at him. “I miss you too, Paul,” she said. “I’ve missed you very, very much, but I need to be sure of you. Call me again when you’re over Annie, when you’re one hundred percent finished with her.”
She stayed seated on the sofa while he put on his shoes. Then he leaned over to squeeze her knee, not speaking to her, not looking at her, and she knew he was close to crying, that once outside, he would probably let the tears come.
She unzipped her jeans when he left, sighing with relief as she drew in a long, deep breath. She rested her hand on her gently rounded stomach and her eyes went to the phone. It was ten-thirty-five and it hadn’t rung.
