A Love Surrendered

by Julie Lessman

  She released a languid sigh and slipped her arms around him before tucking her head to his chest. “No, but I figured it was okay just this once since this is a special occasion.”

  He laughed. “What, you got your tongue back?”

  “No,” she said, closing her eyes to breathe in the clean smell of soap and spicy aftershave. “My good mood.”

  His chuckle merged with a grunt. “Join the club, kid—my family’s about to change the locks on the doors.”

  The doorbell rang and Annie jolted in his arms. “Oh drat, that’s Peggy.” She deposited a gentle kiss on his lips. “Do you have time to wait till I get the dress she wants to borrow?”

  Steven rose and tugged her to her feet, circling her waist with a smoky look in his eyes. “I haven’t seen you in over a month—what do you think?”

  A glorious warmth braised her cheeks. “I’d say there’s a lot to be said for ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ wouldn’t you?”

  Cupping her chin, he gave her a lingering kiss before planting another on the tip of her nose. “Make it quick, kiddo,” he whispered. “There’s a statute of limitations on my patience.”

  She delivered a sassy smile on her way to the door. “May I remind you—you’re the one who stayed away for a month, not me?”

  He grinned. “Okay, so I’m stubborn as well as stupid—just hurry.”

  Releasing a blissful sigh, Annie practically floated to the door, flashing Frailey a smile as he strode from the kitchen. “I’ll get it, Frailey,” she said with a wave of her hand, “it’s Peggy.” She grinned at her friend through the thick, beveled glass, excitement bubbling over the good news she wanted to share. “Took you long enough,” she said, wheeling the door wide.

  “Tell me about it—I’ve been on a train for over three days.”

  Annie blinked, the blood in her face coursing to her toes like the water gushing in the foyer fountain. Maggie grinned, sparkling like a diamond in the dim light, from the glint of her platinum hair and the gleam of lip gloss, to the delighted sparkle of tease in pale blue eyes. All Annie could do was stare, paralysis claiming her tongue for the second time that night.

  Maggie’s laughter echoed in the foyer as she launched herself into Annie’s wooden arms, giggling like Glory while she gave her a ferocious hug complete with squeals. “Oh, Suz—the look on your face is priceless, worth every bump on that miserable train!” She retrieved two suitcases from the front porch and marched through the front door, releasing a contented sigh while her eyes scanned the foyer. “Ah . . . mansion, sweet mansion,” she said with a throaty chuckle, dropping her bags on the floor. She twirled around and tugged Annie away from the door before shutting it once again. Taking Annie’s hands in hers, she surveyed her head to toe with an approving eye. “I swear, you’ve become a woman overnight, Suz,” she said with a shake of her head, giving her sister a wink that toasted her cheeks. “Boy, oh boy—bet the guys can’t keep their hands off you.”

  “M-maggie, w-what are you d-doing here?” Annie managed, her voice as weak as her air supply. “You’re not supposed to b-be here t-till Christmas . . .”

  “Oh, I know,” Maggie said with a shrug, “but I got bored in L.A. and decided to surprise you guys with an early holiday visit.” Forever fashionable, she removed a cream hat to pat short platinum waves tucked behind her ear, then slipped off her coat and looked around, first peeking up the stairs, then glancing toward the parlor. “So . . . where’s Glo—” She froze, gaze glued to the parlor door while her coat dangled from her hand, as limp as the muscles in Annie’s legs.

  “Hi, Maggie,” Steven said quietly, his face devoid of blood like Annie’s, making the shadow of dark stubble on his chiseled jaw all the more noticeable. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Steven . . .” It was a breathless whisper from a porcelain goddess, pale cheeks accentuating striking blue eyes and glossy pink lips, full and parted with shallow breaths. Her pale pink satin blouse shuddered with a frail release of air beneath a cream tweed jacket open to the waist, cinched by a cream leather belt that showcased an hourglass figure. A matching tweed skirt hugged slim hips before flaring midcalf with bias-cut pleats, allowing a glimpse at beautiful legs in two-inch cream pumps. “W-what are you doing here?” she said in a near choke.

  He nodded toward Annie, fiddling with the hat in his hands. “I came to see Annie.”

  “Annie?” she said, confusion etched into every pore of her face. Her gaze flitted from Annie to Steven and back, a flicker of hurt registering in luminous blue eyes. “Suz? But why?”

  Annie’s tongue felt like chalk. “I . . . m-meant to tell you, Maggie . . .”

  “Tell me what?” she demanded, a thread of hysteria rising in her tone.

  Steven took a step closer, eyes tender but tone taut. “We’re seeing each other, Maggie.”

  Maggie’s body seemed to stagger as she put a hand to her chest.

  Fingers quivering, Annie touched Maggie’s arm. “I wanted to tell you a million times—”

  She flung Annie’s hand away, anger glinting in her eyes. “Then why didn’t you, Suz? I’ll tell you why—because you knew it would slice me through the heart.”

  “Maggie, I’m sorry . . .” Annie clutched her arms to her waist, grief and guilt choking until she thought she couldn’t breathe.

  Steven strode forward. “It was an accident, Maggie—we didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “And what exactly has happened, Steven?” she asked with a cross of arms, her tone sharp. “Are you engaged?”

  Steven’s eyes flicked to Annie and back. “No, just dating.”

  “I see.” She hefted her chin, impaling Annie with a look. “For how long?”

  Annie reached out, attempting to touch Maggie’s arm once again, but her sister only inched away, sending a shiver through Annie’s body. “Three months,” she whispered hoarsely, “until a month ago when we broke up.” She sent Steven a tearful look before she averted her gaze to the floor, shame broiling her cheeks. “Steven came here tonight to make up.”

  “I see. Well, how inconvenient of me to visit my family.”

  Steven moved in. “Look, Maggie, it’s been over between us for three years—”

  “No, Steven, it’s been over for you for three years, not me.” She singed Annie with a hateful glare. “And I don’t care if it’s been ten to twenty, Suz, I would have never pegged you to stab me through the heart like this.”

  A sob broke from Annie’s throat as she put a hand to her mouth. “Maggie, please—your life is in California now, and you’re engaged . . .”

  Maggie hiked her chin, but it didn’t stop the tears that bled from her eyes. “Was engaged—Gregory broke it off. Apparently I’m not worthy of his love any more than Steven’s.”

  “That’s not true,” Steven said. He clutched her arms, his tone rough with emotion. “I loved you so much it took three years to get over you, Maggie, but both of us have moved on.”

  “Yes, well, I guess we have my sister to thank for that.”

  “Maggie!” Glory stood on the landing in her nightgown, a flush in her face and curls bobbing as she flew down the steps. Flapping through the foyer in her bare feet, she slammed into Maggie’s legs with such force that Steven had to steady her. “You came, you came!” she shouted, “Oh, Maggie, I missed you so much!”

  Wiping the tears from her face, Maggie hefted Glory into her arms, squeezing with all her might. “Oh, honey, I missed you too, so much that I came home early to spend lots of time.”

  “Yay!” Glory shouted. “And you’re just in time for our pajama party with Aunt Eleanor.” She pressed rosebud lips to Maggie’s. “With me and Annie.” She giggled and put a hand to her mouth, winking at Steven. “But not Steven.”

  Maggie’s smile faded. Her watery gaze met his. “No, not Steven . . . ,” she whispered.

  Heart writhing, Annie tugged Glory from Maggie’s arms. “Come on, munchkin, we’ll go upstairs and wait for Maggie while she and
Steven talk.”

  “Annie, no . . .” Steven’s tone was brusque.

  “But why do they have to talk?” Glory wanted to know, reaching her arms out to give Steven a good night kiss. He stroked her cheek before she gave him a sweet little peck.

  “Because Steven and Maggie know each other really well, and they have a lot to catch up on,” Annie said, avoiding Steven’s eyes.

  “Annie, wait . . .” Steven took a step forward.

  “No,” she whispered, forcing her gaze to his. Tears welled at the confusion in his face, and she quickly blinked to ward them off. “You two have a lot of air to clear.” She glanced at Maggie, stomach cramping at the coldness she saw. “As do I with my sister.” Her voice wavered. “I’m sick inside, Maggie, for hurting you like this, and if I could take it all back, I would.”

  “Annie, please, this will all work out . . .” Steven reached for her arm, but Annie backed away, easing toward the staircase while she cuddled Glory.

  “I know it will, Steven, one way or the other—but not till you two talk.” Moisture pricked as she stared, heart breaking over the pain she’d caused. “Maggie, we’ll see you upstairs.” Avoiding Steven’s gaze, she fled with Glory, pausing on the landing with tears in her eyes. “Good night, Steven,” she called, his face little more than a blur. Sobs heaved in her chest. And maybe goodbye.

  Steven turned the engine off, stomach churning as much as the roiling whitecaps on the moonless waters of Massachusetts Bay. The last thing he wanted was to be sitting in a car with Maggie at Ocean Pier, one of their favorite haunts, dredging up memories he didn’t want to recall with a woman he couldn’t forget. The crashing of the waves on the shore filled the silence as he stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the distant lights of the Romance, a steamer returning from a day trip to the shores of Cape Cod. The blare of the Romance’s whistle pierced the night, issuing a shrill warning to other vessels to ward off shipwrecks during nights that were black as death.

  How fitting. Steven’s lips compressed. When his own romance with Annie sailed uncertain waters—waters that could sink his hopes as well as crash his heart upon the rocks.

  He heard Maggie shift in the seat beside him, and every muscle tensed. It was hard enough being this close with the scent of her perfume and that of the sea luring him back to a time when her body was an addiction and her lips a drug. Heaven help him, he couldn’t look at her too, knowing she’d once been his, full lips that owned him and the face of an angel—seduction with pale blue eyes. He may have relented in bringing her here so they could talk, but he refused to look at her. His jaw stiffened. Looking at Maggie had never produced much talk.

  “You’re not going to melt into the seat if you look at me,” she said softly.

  A tic twitched in his cheek as he focused ahead, unwilling to give her a chance to reel him in. Not when his pulse was sprinting overtime and his breathing as jagged as the rocks on the shore. “What are we doing here, Maggie? I can’t imagine we have a lot to say.”

  Her melancholy laugh set him on edge. “But then we never really did have a lot to say, did we, Steven?” she whispered, her tone as softly suggestive as the curves beneath her satin blouse.

  His temper heated along with his skin. “I like your sister a lot, Maggie, and I don’t want you making trouble.”

  “You liked me a lot once too, remember?” A vulnerability that pricked at his heart tempered her tone. “And we even thought it was love.”

  He closed his eyes, hoping to shut out the pull she still had. He could feel it even now—that magnetic attraction that had spelled his doom—and sweat beaded the back of his neck. “If it was love, Maggie,” he whispered, “then it’s gone.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  He looked at her then and saw it—the lost little girl who’d drawn him in like a moth to flame, buried deep beneath the façade of a self-assured woman. There was tragedy in those blue eyes that made his heart ache and then something else that caused it to thud. He quickly licked his lips, mouth going dry when her eyes followed the motion. Palms sweating, he reached to crank the ignition, only to stop when she placed her hand over his.

  “Please,” she said, her voice a pained whisper, “don’t shut me out, Steven. I’ve already had enough heartbreak to last a lifetime.”

  He stared at the hand over his for several seconds before trailing up to her face, and when his throat constricted, he suspected he still had feelings for her. Slumping back in the seat, he put a hand to his eyes. “What do you want from me, Maggie?”

  She didn’t answer right away, but when she did, her voice trembled. “I . . . need to know . . . if you still care at all . . .”

  The question sucked the air from his lungs. Did he? Did dreams count, and memories that haunted his soul? Or pulse rate or shallow breaths or one’s mind in a fog? Steven swallowed hard, reluctant to respond, afraid voicing it would etch it in stone.

  He jolted at the touch of her hand. “I have to know, Steven . . . if there’s anything left.”

  “Why?” His voice was harsher than intended. “We were no good for each other, Maggie, so why even rehash it?”

  “Because my life’s in pieces, and I need to know.” Her tone was bleeding.

  Like his heart. He turned, eyes burning as he stared and fist clenched on the seat. Sucking in a deep breath, he pinched the bridge of his nose, seconds ticking away like heartbeats until he finally exhaled. “Yes,” he said quietly, “but why does it matter?”

  She took his hand in her own, kneading his fingers, grazing his palm, and his eyelids weighted closed at the heat of her touch. “Because that’s what I came back to find out,” she whispered, and before he could open his eyes, her lips swayed against his.

  “Aw, Maggie . . .” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Why are you doing this?” But he knew exactly why and he was loathe to stop, bewitched by the familiar taste of her mouth, the scent of her body, the touch of her skin. It all came flooding back and he found himself responding with a desire he hadn’t expected, his body humming as she deepened her kiss.

  He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

  He thought of Annie and his promise to God, and his body went to stone. “I can’t do this,” he said, his breathing as ragged as his heart. Chest heaving, he turned the ignition and gunned the engine, hands shaking as he put the car into gear.

  “Steven, please—we need to talk . . .”

  “We’re done talking, Maggie, and anything else you have in mind.” With a grind of the gears, he gunned down Atlantic Avenue, his temper resurging once again.

  Her words were threaded with fear. “She really dug her claws in, didn’t she?”

  “Nobody’s got claws in me, Mags, least of all you.” He turned with a squeal of tires.

  “Really? There’s still something between us, Steven, why deny it?”

  He slid her a hard gaze. “I don’t deny it, I just don’t want it anymore.”

  “Because of Suz?” she whispered, and he could tell from the tremble in her tone that his answer would crush her.

  He chose to ignore it, grateful her aunt’s house loomed at the end of the street. Lips clamped, he sped up, silent until he finally eased in next to the curb. Slamming the stick shift into gear, he kept the engine running and glanced over, a cramp in his chest. “I never meant to hurt you, Maggie,” he whispered, “I hope you know that.”

  Her soulful look slashed at his heart. “I know, Steven. You were torn between your father and me back then. I guess I just hoped things might be different now, you know?”

  His eyes softened. “I know. And things are different, just not in the way you want.” He reached to fondle a strand of her hair. “I’ll never stop caring about you, Maggie. You were my first love, and a man never forgets that.”

  “You and Suz,” she whispered, “is it serious?”

  He studied her profile, beautiful and strong and yet weighted with a sadness that plucked at his heart. “It could be
,” he said quietly, “when you leave again.”

  “And if I don’t?” She turned to stare at him and he studied her in the soft glow of the streetlamp, almost wishing things could be different.

  He drew in a deep breath and took her hand in his to skim her knuckles with his thumb. “It’s over, Maggie,” he whispered, the pain in his tone matching that in her eyes. “Either way.”

  “Do you love her?” Her voice was as fragile as the question.

  Did he? He sighed. Probably, or at least well on his way. But Maggie didn’t need that right now. “Annie and I are good friends,” he hedged, “dating just a few months, that’s all.”

  “Is that a yes . . . or a no?”

  He exhaled his frustration. “No . . . maybe . . . I don’t know,” he said, unwilling to hurt her. “All I do know is that I want to see where it takes us, which means you and I can’t be.”

  “Not necessarily,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, and with the utmost tenderness, she reached to cup his face with her hand, giving him the softest of kisses.

  He remained completely still as she kissed him, eyes closed while a familiar warmth seeped through his body, and then with a gentle hand to her face, he grazed her jaw. “I want to be your friend, Maggie, because I still care about you. But you need to know that as lovers, the past is dead and gone.”

  With a quiver of her chin she shook her head while tears spilled haphazardly down her cheeks. “Oh, Steven . . . ,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers. “Not all of it.” A muscle jerked in her throat as she stared with agony in her eyes. “We have a child.”

  It felt like a migraine coming on, this strange buzzing that traveled his body, numbing his brain, telling him it couldn’t be true. Did she mean the miscarriage their senior year? He groped in his mind for the last time he and Maggie had made love, and knew it was impossible. She hadn’t been pregnant the six months before she left. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Had she? “No,” he said in a stupor, certain any baby couldn’t be his. “It’s impossible. You were fine until you left for California after graduation. I saw you.”