She cast her eyes away.
“Piper? Is it?”
“Yes.”
And there it was. A blow to his chest that nearly knocked him over. He knew how hard it was for Piper to admit her love. He knew what it had taken for her to overcome her fears. He knew how much she was putting herself on the line. It was his fault. He’d broken his promise to her as much as he’d tried not to. And even though Piper wanted to be with him, and as badly as he wanted to be with her, in the end, she would ask for something he would never be able to give her.
He had no problem giving her his heart, his loyalty, his undying love, but he couldn’t give her his commitment.
“You deserve someone who can give you that,” he whispered, his voice not sounding at all like himself. “You have come so far to even love, Piper, you deserve to married. To be happy…forever.”
“No, Quinn.” She took his hand. “I deserve you, however I can get you. You are the one who made me see everything.”
“I made you see everything you didn’t want to see. Everything you still don’t want to see. I think, deep down, that’s why you asked me to marry you, because you weren’t ready for this.” He flicked finger between them.
“That’s not true—”
“Perhaps you didn’t see it then, but I imagine your proposal meant more than what you thought it meant. I can’t be certain what you are thinking then or now. One thing is true for me even though it’s killing me on the inside: this won’t work, Piper. You were right.”
Her hands went limp and slid from his. “You mean that,” she mumbled. “You truly think I deserve a happily-ever-after. I do’s.”
“It’s true. I want the world for you, Piper. You deserve everything I can’t give you.”
Her eyes flared. “You gave me your love. Isn’t that enough?”
“Not according to what you just said…what you believe. Tell me it’s not true.”
Her expression flickered. “I…want…”
“To marry the person you love.”
Her pink cheeks filled with a puff of air, and she stepped away from him. He flinched at the distance, but understood it. Hated it. But deserved it himself.
“Yes,” she answered, her face going lifeless, her nutmeg eyes fading into darkness. “I would eventually want to marry the man I love. But not now…”
“Not ever, Piper. Not with me.” His throat constricted, his own eyes misting with anguish.
Her bottom lip quivered. “So that’s it? After I walked over my own fire to get where I am today? After you changed me?”
He closed his eyes, allowing the radiating pain through his chest to strengthen, nearly buckling his knees. He deserved it.
“I’m afraid so, Piper. God knows I don’t want to let you go, but God also knows that you need more than I could possibly give you.”
He heard her breathless sigh. Felt the brush of her shoulder as she passed him. Smelled the wonderful scent that washed over him.
“One more thing before I go, Quinn.” Her voice was distant and lost, same as his would be if he spoke. “Here’s your medallion. I won’t need it anymore.”
He heard it clink on the table, nearly shattering his eardrums.
“Do you remember when we walked in the graveyard?” Her voice was distant now, lost. “You told me that your gravestone should read Here lies a man who got all he ever wanted. Remember, Quinn? And you told me that life wasn’t worth living unless you lived it to the fullest. You showed me my fullest, and for that, I’m grateful. Now it’s time for you to find yours.”
Quinn gulped, his own words coming back to haunt him. “Piper—”
“I was right, you know,” she said.
He opened his eyes and turned to face her. Her back was to him, her hand on the door knob. “Right about what?”
“Love is selfish. Thank you…for reminding me of that.”
She jerked the door open and stepped out before he could respond. Not that he could say anything with his throat so tight. Not that he could take away her pain. He couldn’t even take away his. His was going to die from it, he could feel it. But this is what Piper needed. She needed all of someone. And he couldn’t do that.
And he hated himself for it.
With his whole body tingling from despair, he crumpled down into the chair, cradling his head in his hands.
He could have been there for minutes or hours and not realized it. His head was spinning and pounding, and he felt for sure if he stood up, his heart would fall right out of his chest.
A soft touch on his shoulder startled him to alertness.
“What have you done, son?” His grandpa spoke from behind him.
“I did what I had to.”
The soft touch lifted as Grandpa shuffled around the chair and sat next to him. “I just got off the phone with the foundation. Do you know how many new requests we’ve have for funds this past week? How many donors have stepped forward?”
Quinn only shook his head.
“Over fifty percent more.” His voice was proud. “Piper did that, Macy. She helped us change and grow like we needed…like everyone needs to.”
Piper had changed too, Quinn thought. So why couldn’t he? He glanced up, wondering if Maddie looked down on him. Wondering if she knew how hard he was fighting to keep his promise.
“I need to go,” Quinn bit out, grief overwhelming him.
“Wait.” Grandpa’s hand shot to his arm. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t have the answers to your problems, Macy, because I got to love my wife for practically a lifetime. But there are some people you know who might be able to help you through this.”
Quinn snorted. “Who?”
“The very people you counsel down at the VA hospital. The ones who’ve lost loved ones.”
“That’s different.”
“No.” Grandpa’s voice was soft, but firm. “There are people down there who’ve lost people like you lost Maddie. You love Piper, Macy, and you know you won’t be able to live with yourself for letting her go like that.”
He shook his head, completely defeated. Feeling totally deflated. “I can’t give her what she wants.”
“Maybe you can. Maybe you need to find out if that’s okay. Go, Macy.”
Quinn hauled himself off the couch, patting Grandpa’s shoulder on the way. “I’ll do it, for you, but I’m not promising anything.”
“That’s all this ol’ man can ask for.”
<<<<>>>>>
Quinn strode through front doors of the VA hospital, making his way past the front desk, saying his polite hellos as he passed coworkers and veterans through the corridors. He’d talked to several surviving spouses during his time at the hospital. Unlike when he’d lost Maddie, most of them had to deal with the sudden death of their loved one. Quinn had seen Maddie’s death coming. But that hadn’t dulled the pain. He often imagined that losing someone so abruptly, so unexpected, that the trauma and pain would slice deeper and be harder to get over.
But as he allowed memories about his conversations with surviving spouses to flood through his mind, he found a disturbing pattern. Each spouse—male or female—had been remarkably strong. They’d been devastated, their lives torn upside down in the beginning, but they’d climbed from the pit of their sorrow and faced life head-on. Some of them had children to support. Families to look after. Jobs to keep.
They’d grieved like anyone else, some harder than others, but in the end, he remembered they’d pulled it together in their time of need. Just like Quinn had never truly done.
He stopped short in the hallway. Why hadn’t he done that?
Because I promised Maddie.
His heart thundered, in torturous pain from losing both Maddie and Piper. He forced his feet forward, coming to a halt in front of the west wing lounge. As he expected, Sarah Daily-Oliver, his brother’s loving wife, sat perched in a rocker chair in the corner, talking happily to several injured veterans in wheelchairs around her.
The sun glinted through the south facing window, lighting up the yellow walls and bringing a glimmer to her face. At only twenty-five, she looked more mature than years could explain, yet like a child telling her favorite story to her friends.
The first time he’d met Sarah, she hadn’t looked nearly as composed or happy. She’d just lost her husband of one year from a wound infection. The doctors had thought he’d be fine. Tragedy had struck, however, dealing Sarah with a terrible blow. She’d been an utter mess, not able to eat or sleep or barely even walk. They had set her up with a room right here in the hospital because the staff were afraid she couldn’t care for herself. Her family had abandoned her, and her husband’s family was too busy dealing with their own grief. It had been the most extreme of situations.
Quinn had comforted her, helped her during her time of need. And little by little, day by day, Sarah had grown stronger. Once the initial grief passed, Sarah had quickly become a woman on a mission: a mission to help those like her. Ever since the day she’d hugged Quinn, thanking him for all his help, she’d been working right here, where her husband died, where her life had fallen apart, and where somehow she’d managed to put it back together.
With quick steps Quinn moved to her side, giving her the best smile he could muster. “Hello, Sarah.”
Sarah’s blue eyes locked with his, and her faced instantly stretched with concern. She looked at the men surrounding her. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” In a blink she was out of the rocker and holding onto to his elbow. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she led him through the north facing double doors onto the patio.
The evening air was crisp and felt good drawn into his lungs.
“I lost Piper.”
Those blue eyes went wide. “Is she hurt? Is she…?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that. I lost her because I let her go. Because I couldn’t give her what she wanted.”
Quinn had briefly talked to Sarah about Piper, but KC had probably told her much more.
“Listen, I’m sorry to come here like this, Sarah, and I’m not normally one to ask for help, but I don’t know what to do…and I thought maybe you could help.”
She patted his cheek and smiled warmly, exactly like a mother would do. She sat down on a concrete bench surrounded by daisies.
Quinn suddenly had the urge to smell Piper’s wonderful floral scent. Hear her voice. He wouldn’t be able to live long without her by his side, in his arms, in his bed. It had only been an hour or two and Quinn already felt like he was dying on the inside.
“So what makes you think you lost the woman of your dreams?” Sarah asked, her eyes inquisitive.
“Because I wouldn’t marry her, and that’s what she needed.”
Sarah nodded, an understanding smile tugging at her lips.
“How did you do it?” Quinn stepped forward, hands out to his side. “How did you manage to marry again after your husband died?”
Her eyes flittered to blue sky. “I promised him I would love him forever, you know. That he would be the only one who could ever make me happy. That I would cherish our days and nights, and no one would ever take his place. Not even if the Lord took him away from me.”
“But you married KC.”
She shook her head and rose, taking Quinn’s hand in hers. “It’s funny, my first husband and I had that conversation right before he went on duty again. A month later he was back here, and a month after that, he was gone. Do you know what he told me when we had that conversation, Quinn?”
“No.”
“He told me I was nuts.” She chuckled lightly. “That if he died in a day, a year or even ten years, I was not to mourn him forever. He told me my happiness was too important to him. That he didn’t want me going through life with the pain of losing him. He told me to live, no matter what happened to him.”
Quinn’s gut churned.
“At the time, I didn’t think anything of it, you know. I figured he was being sweet like all husbands should be…making sure their wives are happy. I love him.” She blinked, allowed a sparkle of a tear to show at the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this, Sarah.”
“No, Quinn, we do.” She touched his cheek once more and sat back down, crossing her legs and staring at him expectantly. “Your brother and I talk a lot about you.”
His brows drew together. “Good to know.”
“Not anything personal. He figured that one day you’d want to know more about Josh and how I came to decide to marry KC. He’s been worried about you.”
“He doesn’t need to worry.”
“All brothers worry.” She smiled carefully. “We knew that one day you’d ask about him and me. I suffered badly when I first lost Josh because it was so sudden and unexpected. Well, you saw me.” She ran her fingers through her long black hair. “It wasn’t until after the sting of the initial pain that I remembered what Josh had said those months before he died. While I loved him with all my heart and soul, he’d want me to be happy. He wouldn’t want to see me suffer. While there’s no magic potion or anything, I can tell you this, love is endless, Quinn. You have room in your heart for more than Maddie.”
“That’s not what I told Maddie.”
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t you think she’d want you to be happy and not sulking for the rest of your life?”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. What mattered was how she felt.”
“It does matter.” She rose, pointing to sky. “Think of her, up in heaven, looking down on you. How do you think she feels? Do you think she’s happy knowing she’s the reason you aren’t happy right now? That she’s the reason you’re suffering?”
Quinn stepped backed, the realization slamming into him. Was that what Maddie saw? He blinked, giving himself a good once-over. Yes, he thought in disgust, that’s exactly what she saw. And how did that make her feel? It surely didn’t make her happy, and Quinn had always promised to keep Maddie happy—no matter on earth or in heaven.
“She couldn’t speak when you made her this promise, could she?”
Quinn’s head snapped up. “How did you know that?”
“KC told me. And besides, any loving spouse would tell their other half they were crazy if they promised that…like mine told me.” Her grin was quick, her expression full of hope. “Wouldn’t you agree, Quinn?”
His head dropped forward, his thoughts suddenly clearing. Maddie would want him to be happy. And even though he’d promised her never to commit to another like he’d committed to her, he somehow knew that Maddie was frowning down on him. His gaze flicked up to the fluffy clouds. They bubbled and swayed slowly in the high wind, allowing slices of light to spear through. A warmth stroked over his face, and a calming feeling settled in his chest. The tight constriction he’d felt since leaving Piper eased away, his heart finally beating a steady rhythm. First the first time in weeks, he smiled.
He mouthed the words I love you to the sky, knowing she was watching, knowing she was smiling in return. Turning, he gave Sarah a quick hug. “Thank you. My brother is lucky to have you.”
She hugged him tightly. “I was the lucky one…like you are to have found Piper. Let her make you happy, Quinn. Let her help you heal.”
“I will.”
Now he had to figure out how.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Piper sat curled on her couch, staring aimlessly out the window while shoving piece after piece of chocolate covered with peanut butter into her mouth. Her eyes would dart to the stem that still sat nestled in with her plant. She hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. Quinn had told her the story about being thankful for her thorns so that she could truly cherish the blossom. And while she was in agony right now, one day she might actually remember that conversation and smile.
One day.
Not anytime soon, though. She’d broken all her rules, allowed herself to care, only to have her dreams shattered in front of her. But she didn’t blame Quinn. While she desperat
ely wished she could change his mind, she knew how he felt. How hard convictions were to get past. How hard it was to change yourself.
She’d done it. Not all by herself, but Piper had changed. And while the sting of the pain from her loss would cripple her for a while, it wouldn’t break her this time. Quinn had taught her she was stronger than that. That she deserved to live. And one day, eventually, she would.
But now, without the warmth of Quinn in her arms, she would live with the other people in her life. Her employees, her customers, and anyone else who walked through her door. She would allow them to see the real her, allow them to know the real her. There would be no more hiding. There would be no more sacrificing her happiness for the sake of protecting her heart, her feelings, anything…ever again.
Love was selfish. But it was that selfishness that had allowed Piper to feel. To live. And she wasn’t letting that go.
She sighed heavily, plopping several more pieces of chocolate and peanut butter into her mouth. Much more of this and she might not be able to even get off the couch. But her heart needed time to mend. Not heal—it would never heal, and she suddenly realized that that was okay. That was life. This was what people did. She didn’t have to be happy about it, but it didn’t have to kill her either.
Sweet peas, it felt like that sometimes, though. A place, a sound, or something as small as a scent would make her mind flick back to memory of her and Quinn. Those were the moments she would buckle to the ground, barely able to draw in that next breath.
A sharp rap on her door made her jump up, tossing chocolate pieces all over the couch. Grumbling, she pushed her hair out of her face and stomped over.
“Piper?” Margo’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.
Standing straight as she could muster, Piper put on a smile and opened it. “Yes?”
Margo’s face was serious. “I know you didn’t want to be bothered today, but something’s come up…”
Piper’s blood ran cold. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Quinn.”
She gripped the doorframe, barely able to hold up her own weight. He hadn’t called her cell, no one in his family had called her cell…which meant there was only one reason his name would roll off of Margo’s lips in her line of work.
Until Next Time Page 31