“I didn’t feel particularly brave in there.”
“Luckily, courage isn’t a feeling. It’s just what you have inside of you.” The cop grinned and glanced at the street as a yellow school bus pulled up. “Let me get out of here and leave you two in peace.” He stepped out of the doorway as Aidan scrambled in. “Your mom’s a hero,” he told the wide-eyed boy.
“Really?” Aidan ran to Debra’s side. “What happened, Mom?”
Her hand trembled against Aidan’s sweaty hair as she delivered a sanitized version of what happened at the café. If Garry had been angrier, if she had panicked, if Garry’s first shot had been dead-on, she would not be sitting in her living room, cuddling her son, telling him that everything was all right.
Sean appeared in the doorway of the living room. “Hey, Aidan, I heated up some pizza for you. Why don’t you go grab a bite and then you can do your homework.”
“Okay.” Aidan pecked a quick kiss on Debra’s cheek before scurrying out of the living room.
Sean, however, remained where he was, at the doorway—not leaving, but not coming closer either. “Would you like some pizza too, or just the tea?”
She drew a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ll get up in a moment and get my tea.”
“I’ll bring it to you.”
“No, really, I’m fine. I can do it.” She leaned forward, prepare to rise, but in an instant, Sean was beside her. His lips were on hers, his kiss desperate, almost feverish. She froze for a second before reciprocating with as much fervor, as much heat.
Sean’s presence—and his love—made her feel alive. In that moment, she desperately needed it. She needed him, even if it was ultimately an illusion.
She did not object when he brought her tea and pizza. She did not object when he supervised Aidan’s homework and patiently explained why x was such a big deal in algebra and why it never seemed to know who it was. Promptly at 8 p.m., he hustled Aidan upstairs to get ready for bed.
The sounds of male laughter drifted down to her, but within a half hour, all had fallen silent.
Debra swallowed hard, bracing for the sound of Sean’s footsteps on the stairs, a prelude to his departure. Soon, too soon, she heard him approach.
“Do you want any more tea?” he asked from the doorway.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, tired of sounding like a broken record. “I’ll just rest here for a few more minutes and then get ready for bed. I’m sorry about screwing up your plans for the evening. I know you weren’t planning on coming over.”
“Forget it, Debra, You needed me around—”
“I did need a friend, so thank you for helping.”
He looked pained. “Don’t push me away.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not. I’m saying thank you.”
“You’re saying, ‘Thank you, I’m fine now. Go away.’”
Debra’s lips twisted into a quirky smile. “Maybe I am, but it’s still hard for me to be around you. Right now, I’m feeling shaken enough to confuse compassion for love, but I’m trying not to. I’ve been sitting here, replaying our last conversation, reminding myself that this is just what you do for everyone.” And I’m so tired. If I have to say it to myself one more time, I might just break down and ask you to stay anyway—that I’ll take your compassion and your pity and just call it love, and learn to be okay with it.
Until the day you’re not okay with it and you walk away from your charity case, looking for real love.
For Aidan’s sake, for her own sake, she had to be strong. She had to hold out for more because she deserved more.
She pushed to her feet and leaned down to pick up her empty mug, but Sean’s hands closed around hers. The contact sizzled through her. But desire wasn’t love, she reminded herself and tugged her hands free.
Sean grimaced. “Damn it, Debra. Will you let me say I’m sorry?”
“What for?”
“What I said last week about not knowing the difference between being kind and being in love. I do know the difference.”
“I imagine the shooting brought out all your protective instincts, but really, I’m okay now. I’m not your charity case anymore. You can go find another good cause to champion.”
He winced. “Okay, I deserved that for being slow and stupid, for not being brave enough to recognize love when it was in front of me.”
“Oh, so you’re calling it love now?”
“I didn’t recognize it in our daily meals and evening walks in the park. I didn’t even recognize it in the peace of falling asleep beside you at night and the comfort of waking beside you in the morning. It felt so normal, I didn’t realize how special it was until I felt the panic, the fear, that sent me racing to the café when I heard you were in there with a gunman. I didn’t give a damn if I got hurt. I couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt. I’d never felt anything like that before. Not with Romina, not even at the beginning of our relationship, before I lost faith in her recovery. It was never love with Romina, just duty, and in the end, duty wasn’t enough. But with you, it was never about duty. It was love, from the start. I just never realized the difference until I thought I might lose you, until the thought that you could have been hurt knocked me completely off my feet.”
“Are you sure, Sean? Are you certain you’re not just getting carried away by your protective instincts?
“No.” He shook his head. “Like Romina’s parents, I was on an emotional roller coaster and looking for someone to blame. I took it out on you because you were there for me; you hung around when no one else did. I know I was behaving like a sulky child, but I was
