I moved toward the door. “It’s not my place to hear this, Amber.”
Rather than reply, she abruptly changed the direction of the conversation. “Why did you end things, Pat?”
“Please, I’m not-”
“You never told me.”
“It wouldn’t have been right for us to keep going.”
“Just when things were…” She paused, searched for the right words. “Moving forward.”
“You were engaged to my brother.”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it, though.”
“I’m with Lien-hua now.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re with Sean.”
A small pause. “Yes.”
“What we had, Amber, it’s over.”
She turned her back to me, and I wished she hadn’t. I wanted to see her face so I could try to read her, decipher what she might be thinking.
“I know there’s more, Pat. All this time I’ve known. Was it something I did? I just need to know.”
Her intuition was right. There was more, but it wouldn’t be wise to get into all that. I needed to do something to end this conversation, to rescue what little rapport I had left with my brother, to help, at least in a small way, salvage his relationship with Amber. Over the years I’ve found that sometimes when a lie serves a greater good it can be a gift.
A lie.
A gift.
“I never cared for you like you did for me,” I said as convincingly as I could.
She turned and looked at me, into me. “That’s not true.”
No, it isn’t.
No, it isn’t.
You’re not a good liar, Pat.
Telling the lie troubled me.
The truth.
The greater gift.
Before I could edit them, rein them in, the words slipped out: “I ended things because Sean loved you.” Yes, it was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. “And I didn’t want to hurt him, to-”
“But so did you, right? You were in love with me too?”
She seemed distraught, almost desperate to hear me say it, but I avoided answering her. “Amber, really, I think you need to leave.”
“Just tell me if I was wrong all this time. Just tell me the truth.” She’d always been a woman unafraid to show her feelings, and her eyes were beginning to glisten. “Please.”
“Yes, I did. I loved you.” With every question, every answer, I was digging myself deeper into a conversation I didn’t need to be in. I decided to try and wrap this up quickly. “I didn’t want Sean to get hurt. You either.”
“You broke things off to protect me?”
“Both of you.”
She was crying now, and my heart broke to see it. If only I’d pulled away sooner five years ago, not let my feelings tug me farther than I needed to go.
“Amber, please.”
“Are you doing it again?”
“What?”
“Trying to protect me?”
“We can’t-”
“You left me because you loved me, because you wanted to protect me? Both me and Sean? That’s what you just said.”
You did this to yourself, Pat. You shouldn’t have said anything!
“I never stopped caring, Pat.” Her voice had become soft, broken. “Seeing you now… it’s…” Her words trailed off, and she turned to hide her tears. As a man I couldn’t just stand there and watch her hurt, watch her cry.
You hurt her, Pat.
You shouldn’t have told her any of this.
“Come here.” So I took her in my arms, and she leaned into my embrace and she held me the way she used to, and as I was brushing a tear from her eye I heard a quick double-knock at the door, and just as I was pulling away from her, it swung open, and Lien-hua, the woman I loved, the one I was hoping to marry, appeared.
43
The moment blistered apart.
“Lien-hua?” I quickly stepped back from Amber.
She’s supposed to be in Cincinnati. Why is she here?
She told you she was sending up a surprise.
She told you Oh man.
“Pat.” Lien-hua was looking from Amber to me and back to Amber. She entered the room, let the door close out the howling night behind her.
“This isn’t what…” I started apologizing, wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint what to apologize for. “This is Amber.” I took another step back so I could see both women at the same time. “Sean’s wife.”
“Sean’s wife,” Lien-hua echoed softly.
Turning to Amber, I said, “And this is Lien-my friend Lien-hua Jiang.”
Your friend?!
Amber slid away a stray tear that remained on her cheek. “I’ll go. I’m sorry.” She told Lien-hua, “I just came to talk. That was all. He was just trying to help.”
“Okay,” Lien-hua replied, in a tone that was impossible to read.
Amber collected her purse and headed for the door. Lien-hua stepped aside to let her through, but before Amber passed her, I realized it wouldn’t be safe for her to leave. “Wait. The roads.”
“I made it over here.” Amber’s voice was strained with deep emotion. “I’ll be fine.”
I fished out the key to the room I’d reserved for Tessa earlier in the day. “Tessa’s staying at your place. Take her room.” I hated having this conversation in front of Lien-hua.
She shook her head. “I’ll be all right.”
“No, they closed the county roads,” Lien-hua said. “State Patrol did. I had to ride with a trooper just to get over here.” Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I heard genuine concern for Amber’s welfare in her words.
“If the county roads are closed,” I said, “you won’t make it home.”
“I’m used to-”
I held out the key to her. “Amber. For your own safety. Please.”
After one final objection, she accepted it. “Room 104,” I told her. I left off mentioning the obvious: that it was the room right next door.
She passed quietly out the door, into the storm, and then I was alone with Lien-hua, who stood by the bed and appraised me.
And I, her.
Asian elegance. Black hair with two curling strands that gracefully framed her face. A posture and grace that came from years of tai chi and competition kickboxing. A woman who was not only gorgeous and athletic but also had swift intelligence and deep perception, I’d fallen for her the first time I met her fifteen months ago. Since then
