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you say.”
He sounded so concerned when it was the last thing she wanted. Suddenly Rush was the last person in the world she yearned to be with. Escape seemed of paramount importance. Somehow she found her way to her feet, although the cement seemed to buckle beneath her shoes. With some effort she managed to keep her balance and rush away from the bench.
It would have been too much to hope that Rush would let her go. But oddly enough he seemed to appreciate her mood, remaining silent as he matched his quick steps to hers. Side by side they started up the hill toward First Avenue.
The climb was steep and Lindy was winded by the time they’d gone only a few blocks.
“I’ll get a taxi,” Rush said.
“No. Don’t, please.” She wanted to walk—needed to wear herself out physically so she could collapse in her bed exhausted. It was the only way she could guarantee she would sleep. The simple act of putting one foot in front of the other, climbing up one street and then the next one, seemed to help her contain her emotions.
By the time they reached the apartment building, Lindy’s lungs ached and her calf muscles violently protested the strenuous exercise. She waited impatiently while Rush unlocked the front door.
He held it open for her, and in that moment she detested him for the small display of manners. Paul had impeccable manners and look what he’d done to her. Look what he’d reduced her to.
Without even glancing in Rush’s direction she paused just inside the living room and said, her voice weak and faltering, “Thank you for dinner.”
He didn’t answer her for what seemed an eternity, and she had the impression he was willing her to turn around and face him. But she knew she couldn’t without dissolving into wretched emotion.
“Anytime, Lindy.” His words were low and as smooth as velvet.
“Good night.” The sooner she got away from Rush the better.
“’Night.” Again his voice was so gentle, so tender.
She made it all the way to the bathroom door before her gaze blurred so badly with tears that she had to stop and wipe the moisture from her eyes. Drawing in several steadying breaths between clenched teeth gave her some relief. She’d be damned before she’d cry over Paul Abrams.
Damned. Damned. Damned.
Without being aware of how it happened, Lindy found that she had stopped and braced a shoulder against the wall, using it to keep her upright, needing its support. She pinched her nose with her thumb and index fingers, willing back the release of torrential tears.
“Lindy, you need to cry.”
The words seemed to come from a far distance, echoing around her in a canyon of despair. She dropped her hand and looked up to find Rush standing beside her.
“No,” she said forcefully. “I won’t.”
“Don’t let him do this to you.”
She tried to push Rush away, but her effort was puny and weak. “You don’t know anything,” she cried. “How could you?”
“I know what it is to hurt.”
“Not like this.” No one could ever hurt this much. No one.
“Listen to me,” he said, and his hands gripped her shoulders. But even his fingers were gentle when she wanted them to be hard and punishing. “Cry. Let it out before the grief strangles you.”
“No.” Still she resisted, wildly shaking her head. “No. I hate him. I hate him.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
The dam broke then, and the tears that had been pent up inside her soul, shoved down and ignored for so long, bled from her eyes. A low, mewing sound slid from the back of her throat, nearly choking her. Sobs overtook her, huge, oxygen-robbing sobs that shook her shoulders and made her breast heave.
Rush didn’t try to hold her and she was grateful because she couldn’t have borne being restrained. Unable to remain upright, she braced her back against the wall and slumped to the floor. She gently rocked back and forth, weeping bitterly for the innocence she had lost, and wailing for the love she had given so freely to a man who didn’t deserve it. She cried until there was nothing left inside her.
Lindy started to retch when her tears were spent, and she knew she was about to lose her dinner. Rush’s hand under her elbow helped her to an upright position and into the bathroom. He stood behind her as she leaned over the toilet. She thought she felt his hand on her back, but she couldn’t be sure.
When she was finished he handed her a damp washcloth. She held it to her face, letting the coolness soak away some of the terrible red heat. Her eyes burned like fire, her throat felt gritty and coarse, and her hands shook.
“Here.” Rush handed her a glass of water.
She felt an abundance of shame at having allowed him to see her like this, and worse, that he should be the one to take care of her. She sank to the edge of the tub, afraid her shaky legs could no longer support her.
“You’re going to be all right now,” Rush told her confidently. “It’s over.”
She couldn’t look at him but nodded because it seemed the right thing to do. Rush had no way of knowing what Paul had done to her. No way of knowing that the man she’d loved and planned to share her life with had married another woman while Lindy proudly wore his engagement ring. Rush Callaghan didn’t know a damn whit about shattered dreams or the pain of a broken heart. He would never allow himself to be hurt this way.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you into your room.”
She stood with his help, and he tucked his arm around her waist as he led her into her darkened bedroom. Gently he brushed the wet strands of hair from her face and lowered her onto the mattress in a sitting position.
“I trust you don’t need anyone to undress you.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“It’s a damn good thing,” he said, and there was more than a trace of a smile in his words.
He started to walk away from her but paused just before he reached the door, turning back to her. “You’re a beautiful woman, Lindy Kyle, and someday there’ll be a man who will love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
Her mother had said almost those identical words to her. At the time, Lindy hadn’t been ready to accept them; she wasn’t sure she could now. All through college there’d only been Paul. Every thought of the future had been linked with him. Every dream. Every ambition. She felt as if fate had sent her tumbling into oblivion, uncaring what ill fortune befell her.
But it wasn’t in her to argue with Rush. Instead she brought her feet up onto the bed and pressed her head against the feather pillow. Her eyes ached unmercifully and she closed them.
“Did you hear me?” Rush demanded softly.
She wanted to shake her head that she hadn’t, but there wasn’t enough spirit left in her to challenge him. “I’m too selfish to pine away for Paul Abrams,” she said, her soft voice trembling. “I’m not willing to be miserable any more.”
Her words seemed to please him. “You’re one hell of a woman, Lindy, and don’t you forget it.”
“Right.” She couldn’t contain the sarcasm. Although she kept her eyes closed, Lindy knew it was a long time before Rush left the doorway. His presence all but filled the room. Only when he’d slipped away did she feel comfortable enough to relax and sleep.
Lindy woke around two, her throat dry and scratchy. Her temples throbbed, and her eyes were red and swollen. She didn’t turn on any lights as she made her way into the kitchen, preferring the shield of darkness.
The drapes were open and the city lights flickered in the distance.