“Sorry, Paul, but that’s one more empty promise. You don’t know who’s doing this. You can’t be the white knight this time, and ride to the rescue.”
“What do you mean, another empty promise?” Paul demanded as the cab pulled up at his house. He paid the driver and waited until they were in the house to continue. “I’ve never made you any promises, Torie.”
“No, you haven’t,” she said with weary resignation. “Actually, come to think of it, you haven’t promised anyone anything. Ever.” She looked at him, thinking about that new insight. She hadn’t realized it to be true until she said it. “You stay away from promises and commitments, don’t you? Is that why you pushed me away back then? No strings on you, were there, Paul? Nothing to tie you down.”
“That’s not the point, Torie. Is there something specific you meant about the promises? Did you think that my coming and finding you, getting you out of that room in the fraternity house constituted some kind of promise?”
“No. Never. But you’ve always treated me like it did. You and Todd both. He took it a different way, after you told him. Yes.” She was too tired to glare, but she wanted to smack him. “I know it was you who told him. That’s a promise you broke, by the way. I asked you never to talk about it. To not tell anyone.”
“I thought he should know—”
“What?” Torie shot back, gaining strength from the old anger which welled up within her. “That his future bride was some slutty girl who was lying around naked in the frat house? That I was too stupid to recognize that I’d been drugged? Just because I didn’t get raped, did you make him think I’d gone willingly and got cold feet?”
“No!” Paul protested, tossing his coat onto the couch. “Of course not. I knew the moment I saw you that you were drugged. Jesus, Torie.” Paul moved toward her but when she stepped away from him, he halted. “I thought he should know not to leave you alone with any of our brothers. I never did figure out who drugged you. The guy whose room you were in had been out half the semester with mono. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t there.”
“Oh, so you felt you should tell him that, in spite of my asking you not to?”
“Good Lord, Torie, I didn’t want anyone to hurt you. Besides,” he fired back, “the only one you ever banned from your house was me.”
“I didn’t ban you, damn it. You keep saying that.”
“Well, if you didn’t ban me, what the hell did you do? Once you two got engaged, Todd stopped planning to go into business with me. He stopped playing pool with us on Thursdays. I’d hear about parties at your house, parties I got no invite to.”
“For crying out loud, Paul, it was six or seven years ago. I never specifically asked Todd to ban you from the house. I just told him I’d be more comfortable if you weren’t there.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” Paul smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Like that isn’t a ban. Hell, Torie, if you hadn’t said anything, do you think he would just stop, cold, playing pool with us? He was as loyal as could be. If you had a problem with me, why didn’t you tell me?”
“You know what? I’m not doing this.” Torie was panicking. She didn’t want to face this. Didn’t want to tell him anything about her feelings, or dredge up the past. She picked up her briefcase and purse. “Thanks for the hospitality. I’ll find a hotel in the morning, and we can go back to our unusual truce. Whatever happened, we’ll chalk up to stress.”
“Stress?” Paul nearly shouted the word. “You call what happened between us this morning a stress reaction? Well, you have a hell of a way of working out your stress, Torie. No wonder guys are dropping like flies around you.”
The words cut her to the heart.
The minute he said it, Paul knew he’d not only screwed up, he’d damaged something between them. Maybe destroyed it. The fragile truce, the beginnings of understanding and forgiveness were wiped out in the blink of an eye.
The light of battle went out of her eyes. She looked defeated. Broken.
“Thanks for that reality check.” She turned away from him, started down the hall.
“Oh, God, Torie, I didn’t mean that.”
God, how could he have been so stupid, pushed her away so harshly? “I’m an idiot,” he managed. “I didn’t mean to say, to imply—”
She froze, and he stuttered to a halt. While she’d stopped in the archway, she never turned around. Didn’t look at him.
He felt his own heart crack. Was he having a heart attack? He put a hand to his chest, but felt the steady rhythm. The pain was something else.
“You’ve never said an unplanned word, Paul. Never,” she said softly, but the words carried the power of conviction and he heard them clearly. “You’re so…careful with your words. It makes you a good lawyer, I guess.” There were tears in her voice now, and the pain in his chest and gut burned hotter. How that was possible he wasn’t sure, but it did. Her next words arrowed into his mind, burying there to start a second burn. “But it makes you a lousy human being.” She paused, gathered herself, shifting the briefcase on her shoulder. “So. You did the right thing in helping me out back then. Good for you. I’ve paid the price for that help with you. And I never owed Todd, nor he me. So, debt paid. I don’t owe you anything anymore.” She took several deep breaths before she continued, her voice unsteady. “I wish Todd had finally been able to let it go. I’m going to learn from him, and do it differently. I’m going to let it go.” She stopped again, then straightened her shoulders. “I’ll be ready to meet with Tibbet in the morning.”
He watched her walk away. His chest hurt so bad, his stomach was a tight twist of pain. He couldn’t speak. What could he say, after all? She’d been right. He was careful with what he said, with what he did, what he promised. The idea that he’d somehow broken a promise, done something less than honest in his dealings with her made him cringe. The knowledge that his careless words, born of frustration and fear, had been said to strike at her, bring her down somehow…
That was unbearable.
Again.
