Page 32 of Serve ’N’ Protect

“No.”

But she already knew that, having been obsessively methodical about making sure he took back every single tool, every single stitch of clothing, and every speck of dust that belonged to him. There wasn’t a single thing he could say that could possibly erase the pain of jagged loneliness he’d left in his wake.

“I think I made a mistake.”

“What mistake?” When he’d broken off their engagement, he’d seemed damn certain of his decision at the time.

“Leaving you.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. “I shouldn’t have done it. I should have stayed with you. We could be married by now, and we still can be. It’s not too late. I know you still have the ring.”

For months these had been the words she’d longed to hear. Now that he’d finally said them, disbelief thrummed in her veins faster than water through an open hose. “You’ve got to be kidding. The second the doctors told us I’d never walk again you were halfway out the door. A week later, you were gone.”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that.” He blinked, his eyes actually appearing glossy. “I was scared.”

He began rubbing her upper arms, something she used to love. Now, she found it annoying. Hugh had vanished from her life and now he suddenly wanted back in? This was all too much to believe.

“You were scared?” She tried shrugging off his hands, but he wouldn’t let her. “How do you think I felt, suddenly alone and unable to walk? What in the world makes you think you can stroll in here, and I’d just take you back?” Then something occurred to her. “You said you knew I was in the house. How did you know that?”

“One of my crew was driving past your house this morning and saw you out on the lawn. He happened to mention it, and I started thinking about you. I mean, it didn’t just hit me this morning. I’ve been thinking about you for months now.”

“So all it took was for one of your guys to see me walking across the lawn and—” That’s it. That was why he’d come to see her. She felt like her brain was about to explode. “I know why you’re here. It’s because I’m walking again, something you would have known if you hadn’t deserted me. You bastard.” This time, she managed to shrug his hands away.

“Cass, no. That’s not it. Please, you’ve got to give us another chance. Let me show you how much I still love you.”

Redundant though it was, the same thought kept pounding the inside of her head: You’ve got to be kidding. Did he even realize how ludicrous he sounded? “You discarded me like a broken toy. I cried myself to sleep for weeks, wishing, hoping, and praying that you’d come back.” But he hadn’t, and all that was left behind was a deep pit of bitterness in her heart that would never go away.

Cassidy blew out a breath, feeling all the anger inside her ebb like a receding tide. She had gone through an angry stage back then. Seeing Hugh had brought it all back, but then she remembered the emotional stage that had followed.

“Do you want to know why I finally stopped crying?” she continued. “It was because I understood. I realized I was being selfish. We were supposed to be starting our lives together. Being shackled to someone who can’t walk was too much to ask. I may be walking, but I’ll be disabled for the rest of my life. That hasn’t changed, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. You were right. You are better off without me.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I know we can.”

Now that she’d vented all the emotions that had, unbeknownst to her until now, still been boiling and seething somewhere inside, all that remained was a biting sadness that no man would ever see her as being a whole person again. That and her right hip and thigh were beginning to throb from falling on her ass on the steps.

Clicking sounds came from the kitchen. A moment later, Ghost walked into the room, followed by Markus.

Ghost sat at her side, glaring up at Hugh. To her shock, Markus smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, then draped his long, muscular arm over her shoulders. “Honey, you didn’t mention we were having company.” He held out his hand to Hugh. “I’m Alex. Cassidy’s boyfriend.”

Her head swiveled faster than a screw top. Huh? If King Kong and Godzilla miraculously appeared on her front lawn and started duking it out, she’d have been less shocked.

Apparently, Markus’s words had the same effect on Hugh. His mouth fell open and his eyes bugged wider than golf balls. “Hugh,” he said numbly. Slowly and with obvious reluctance, he shook Markus’s hand.

The look Hugh gave her turned to one of utter shock. “How could you have moved on so quickly?”

“Quickly?” Again, did he know how ridiculous he sounded? “You’ve been gone for ten months.”

Hugh gave a heavy sigh. “Cassidy, please.”

“No.” She shook her head. Markus’s arm was heavy but reassuring, and she was grateful that he hadn’t left after all. “I don’t know why you want to try again with me. You have everything going for you. You shouldn’t have to settle for…” Someone like me. Broken, in body and spirit. “Just go. There’s nothing here for you.”

For a moment, he hesitated, then he put his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait,” she said to him before turning to Ghost. “Box.” She pointed to the red velvet box containing her engagement ring.

Ghost walked to the table, picked up the box, then returned and presented it to her. She took it from his mouth, ignoring the sticky strands of slobber glistening on the cover. “Here.” She handed the box to Hugh.

As he stuffed it into his pocket, her heart squeezed, but not because she still loved him. That love had died an ugly, painful death that no amount of resuscitation could revive. As beautiful and valuable as the ring was, returning it to Hugh was the right thing to do. She would never wear it, nor could she ever look at it again. It was a symbol of all the wonderful things that had slipped from her grasp. Forever, most likely.

Hugh opened the door then pushed through the storm door. Numbly, she watched him go down the stairs, get into his truck, and drive off. The window into her life that he’d left slightly ajar was now closed. Permanently.