by Laurie Lewis
Hudson helped her in and then signaled for the pilot to pull it up.
Panic set in when she began to rise. “You’re coming too, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
Her hand gripped the edge of the basket, and Hudson’s hand slipped over hers, causing the same firestorm to swell within her. He held on until he could no longer reach her.
“You’ll be all right,” he assured. “I’ll see you at the top.”
Fifteen minutes later, after a quick flight, they landed in a parking lot, where a limo waited to drive them home. Hudson limped more than walked by the time Olivia was settled in the house. She sat on the sofa and studied him. “You’re exhausted. Go to bed. Use the sunshine room. You need to sleep.”
He eyed her curiously, as if considering the offer. A moment later, he fell against a doorjamb and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t. The driver is going to take me back to the pull-off at Short Sands to get my car. Stay here and rest. Promise?”
“I promise.” The sight of him opening the door saddened her. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
He bit his lip as he thought. “Not tomorrow. Not for a few weeks, actually. I’m late for a technology summit in Tokyo, and then I’m off to Europe, but I’ll be in touch to make sure you’re keeping your word.”
“Wait, wait!” she called out before the door closed behind him. “Are you saying you abandoned your schedule and flew halfway across the world to rescue me?”
He shrugged and shot her a lopsided smile.
The depth of his sacrifice began sinking in, and it overwhelmed her. “Your great-grandmother would be very proud of you. You are the man she said you’d be.” Her eyes began to burn. “In case I haven’t said it plainly enough, I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. You weren’t responsible for my regrets and unhappiness. My choices were. I hope you find your perfect match, that woman who understands your heart. She will be one very lucky woman.”
Hudson stopped, his head tipping to the side as if considering her comment. He eyed her curiously from that spot as the storm returned to his eyes. Olivia caught herself leaning forward, willing him back in.
“What are your regrets, Liv?”
His voice was like suede, soft and masculine, inviting and warm. Losing Hudson was her greatest regret. She began there, unwinding that truth back to the reason she filed the lawsuit against him.
“I’ve told you about my childhood; how my mother attached herself to men she didn’t love, all for security. She finally ended up marrying one my junior year. It was demoralizing. I always felt like a guest in that house, and I told myself I’d never be like her. That’s why I wanted to get an education as far away from Diane as possible. But I ended up making the same spirit-crushing choices.”
“You call your mother Diane?”
“We weren’t like your family, Hudson, but I so wanted that dream. I attached myself to you, but I felt things changing between us near the end of our senior year, and there was Jeff.” She looked away again. “In a knee-jerk reaction, after everything I’d done to be different from Diane, I ended up marrying a man I didn’t love for security. But, here’s the crazy part. I stayed with him to prove I wasn’t like my man-hopping mother.” She wiped at her eyes.
“I also regret drawing you deeper into my mess. I did something else that’s going to complicate your life.” She drew a deep breath and carried on. “Jeff made it clear early on that he didn’t want children, but I was desperate to have something … someone to love. There was such distance between us. I didn’t take any precautions—”
“And then, that distance narrowed.”
His crass assessment of her child’s conception stung her deeply. “Please don’t look at me that way. The baby was very wanted by me.”
Hudson slowly crossed the room to her, his steps labored as if he were slogging through mud. He sat on the opposite end of the sofa, leaning forward, avoiding eye contact. With his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands dangled in the space between his knees. His entire body seemed wired. “I, of all people, would never judge someone else for wanting desperately to be loved, but—”
“You …?” She scoffed. “Please. I’ve seen your photo on the cover of those gossip rags. What was the last headline? Weren’t you named the man women most want to date? You’re single by choice. You have no idea how lonely life can be.”
His neck crooked at an angle as he shot her a quick, incredulous glance. “By choice? You think I had all the choices?” His voice was sharp and pained. He swore under his breath and stood, pacing to the door and back before turning toward her. “You can’t absolve yourself of the damage you cause others by saying you just reacted.”
Her head drew back. “What?”
“A guy who barely had a kind word to say to you in four years swept you off your feet in one night. That reaction was also a choice, Liv. A stupid one, but still a choice. And did you think to ask him if he wanted children? And when he refused to give you a family, did you leave? Staying was a choice. Did you wake up every day and choose to be miserable?”
“You don’t know anything about my life.”
“Only what you’ve told me, but I don’t see where things have changed all that much.”
“Wha—?” It was more a wounded groan than a word.
“When you found out you were pregnant, did you bother to see a doctor or did you just hope it would all work out?”
“How dare you!” She flew out of her seat and drew her hand back to slap Hudson, but he caught her wrist and held it firmly.
His eyes shone with pain. “What happened to you? What happened to us?”
“There never was an us. All I ever needed was a word from you, but you loved my work more than you loved me.”
She spewed the words like acid, intending to inflict pain, and she knew she succeeded. He released her wrists and dropped his arms as he backed up a step.
“We were at least friends. I know about the lawsuit. Why? You said you blamed me. For what?”
Feeling as if she had gone nine rounds with a heavyweight, she dropped into a chair and curled over her folded arms, hiding her face. “I was desperate to give my child a better home than I had. A more stable life than the one Jeff and I were living. You wouldn’t understand.”
Leaning into the doorjamb, Hudson’s voice cracked as he spoke. “You’re the one who never understood. You said the woman I’d love would be lucky. That was supposed to be you.”
She lifted her head enough to see him as a soft gasp escaped.
“I shared everything I treasured with you—my family, my home, my dreams, my heart. They were my expressions of love, but you threw them aside for a dance and a few well-chosen words.” His voice broke with a sad laugh. “And the worst part is… they weren’t even Jeff’s.”
A stabbing pain radiated through Olivia’s heart. She pressed her palm against her chest to stave the ache as she processed Hudson’s profession of love, mingled with his goodbye.
Hudson blinked as his head fell back against the wood. After a moment, he dug his fingers into his dark, knotted hair, grabbing handfuls. “I had hoped that someday … maybe … we could … but … I can’t do this again.”
She lifted her lead-like head at the spark of hope she thought he offered. “Are you saying you love me?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
She remembered the story about his great-grandfather’s gifts of love, and how the right woman should recognize them. Olivia realized that by misreading Hudson’s offerings, she had failed the test twice—then and now. Her bottom lip began to quiver. “Something changed during those last few weeks. The programming was complete, and you had customers lined up. Then you were gone so much and distracted when you were near. Jeff felt it too. We figured we had served our purposes and were about to be cast aside. Jeff offered me a safe place to land.”
Hudson’s hands covered his face and then dropped. “Of course he did. Because of me. I wasn’t p
ulling back from you, I was winding up meetings and negotiations, building a future for us.” He shook his head. “Maybe I seemed distracted … by my fear. I was terrified, because everything I’d worked for meant nothing if I couldn’t have it with you. I was gone that night because I drove here to pick up a b— … something I made for you before I went to …” He groaned loudly and kicked at the doorjamb, splintering the wood. “It doesn’t matter where I was.”
He leaned back against the jamb and slid to a crouch. “When I got back to the apartment, I found Jeff’s note. I assumed you two were already off … celebrating your marriage.” The words came out like a curse. “One night, Liv. If you had only trusted in me for one more night.”
All the air rushed from her lungs at the revelation. Neither of them spoke. Neither moved. Hurt hung in the room like bitter smoke.
He stood and kicked at the debris on the floor. “If you need the words, here they are. I loved you before I met you, from the moment you slipped through the library doors. You were so beautiful and frightened that first day. I watched you tug your hair as you scanned the room, looking for the computer stations, and then you flipped a strand over your shoulder and smiled. From that moment, I was a goner.”
Melancholy filled his voice. “When Jeff got a scholarship to play at the University of Washington, he asked me to defer mine at MIT to help him make the transition. I consented, but I regretted that decision all summer until you walked in that fall. I arranged that study group and gave up MIT just to stay near you. And we were good together, or so I thought.”
“We were,” Olivia said softly.
“You believed in my dream and provided a sounding board for my ideas. That’s all they would have been without you. But Jeff …” Hudson gave one sad laugh and shook his head. “Jeff was only a mediocre college athlete, but he was one heck of a pitch man who could sell a line. I just never figured it would be to you. And you bought it on that night of all nights.”
Olivia pressed her hands over her ears. “Stop. Please just stop, Hudson. It wasn’t a one-night stand. You’re picking my marriage apart.”
The words stopped him cold. “I’m sorry.” He took a step back into the doorway. “This thing between us … it’s … powerful. It made me soar, but it also leveled me. No one else has that effect on me, but I can’t afford to take that risk again. I need to go.”
Olivia didn’t understand what Hudson meant about a risk, but it didn’t matter. Hudson did, and that was that. The finality of this goodbye was crushing. “I’ll be out of the house tomorrow, and I’ll turn in my notice to Ethan.”
“Don’t … please don’t let this bleed any further. Move when you’re well. And the job is yours. You’ve earned it and Ethan depends on you.” He blew out a rush of air and shook his head. “Jeff was your husband, and you’re loyal to his memory. I’m going to respect that. I won’t bother you again.”
Olivia rose and hobbled over to Hudson, but he shrank back when she reached for his arm. The pair were as tentative as shy teens with one another, standing apart, exploring every curve and feature on one another’s face as if storing final images that would need to last forever. She moved to him, and he groaned a weak protest as she pressed her forehead to his. Tears fell as his arms slipped around her. She felt Hudson’s frame shake against hers until she could neither swallow nor speak beyond the lump growing in her throat.
As bittersweet seconds ticked by, she took in his musky scent, cataloguing the feel of his stubble as it brushed against her cheek and the hardness of his chest as she pressed deeper into his warmth. Her hands slipped up, combing through his tangled mop of hair, clutching it in her fingers. Her head moved to his muscled shoulder, and his bent down, cradling her in the crook of his neck. They stood there, cramming a lifetime of squandered love into a few brief, haunted moments. His mouth brushed her cheek, sending shudders throughout her body; then, inch by inch, they found her parted lips. His hands framed her face, preventing her retreat, but she made no effort to withdraw, because this was the kiss she had dreamed of on lonely nights when Jeff—
Jeff—her body stiffened. The three short months since his death rewound in seconds, reminding her that she was a widow—and before that… a wife. A wife who loved another man! That was the source of her guilt. It was the truth that hobbled her. Jeff had not been the lone cause of their failed marriage. She had never stopped loving Hudson, and that guilt had cankered her heart, leaving her unable to love Jeff and unworthy to give herself to Hudson now.
Hudson pulled back, and she dropped her eyes to avoid him, but not in time ignore the depth of his pain. His hands slid down her arms and to his sides, leaving a chill over every inch of skin his touch abandoned. He stepped back, a fractured remnant of the man she knew.
Her voice was husky as she said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
Shoulders rounded, his steps heavy, Hudson turned and walked out the door. Olivia watched numbly as his car drove away, knowing that this time he would not return.
13
He wanted to crush the accelerator to the floorboard and steer for the nearest tree. All logic and reason had fled, and for a few minutes, he didn’t care about anything, least of all himself.
Like some heaven-sent beacon, Alejandra’s distinctive ring sounded, but Hudson ignored it. Undeterred, she called back four times. He was ready to toss the phone out the car window when he saw her image come up on his screen. Her glasses were pulled down the nose of her elegant, portly face, and she eyed Hudson as if she were aware of his dark thoughts.
As hard as he tried to ignore the old memories, they returned—images of Alejandra’s worried face hovering over him or sitting by his bedside with cold cloths and broth or of her delivering medicine and clean linen to him and Pepper while little ones clung to her hem. He took the call through the Bluetooth.
“Hudson—”
Her motherly “I-told-you-so” tone irritated him from the get-go, and he didn’t make much of an effort to play nice in return. “How soon can a company jet land in Portland?”
“A company jet?”
He knew the extravagant request signaled trouble. “How soon, Alejandra?”
“I-I don’t know,” she stammered, her increased Spanish intonations signaling her worry. “You didn’t order one, so other execs are using them to transport investors this week.”
“Then lease one ASAP. I’m on my way to the Portland airport now. Just text me the name of the carrier and when.”
Her voice softened with worry. “I take it things didn’t go well.”
“Do you want me to admit you were right about me and Liv?”
“I truly did want things to work out for you two, Hudson. If I didn’t say it clearly, I’m sorry. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. You know that.”
He did know that, and once again, Alejandra was reaping the bitter harvest of another rejection by Olivia. “I don’t want to see or speak to or be recognized by anyone. Just get me a private jet and send me to Japan. I need to get back to work. I’m days late for that technology summit in Tokyo.”
“Okay.” Her worry seemed to intensify. “I’ll be back in touch in a few. And Hudson, I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Thanks,” he muttered into the speaker. “And what were you calling about?”
“Nothing. It can wait.”
“Don’t coddle me. It’ll be good to get my mind back on work.”
“None of it’s good news.”
His jaw tightened and released. “Go ahead. What happened?”
“The rebels attacked the orphanage again.”
The news of the attack on Mother Thomasine’s orphanage in the Ivory Coast was like a splash of cold water. Hudson sat up and focused on the problem. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, but they took everything.”
“When?”
“Two days ago. Should I send more supplies?”
“Whatever Mother asks for and nothing more. We don’t want to give the rebels a reas
on to return. What else?”
“The pump trial failed.”
His shoulders rounded again. “How badly?”
“They collected a liter of clean water and then it died. You’ll have a report in your inbox this evening.”
He smacked the steering wheel and cheered. “A liter, Alejandra? That means the concept works. We just need to refine it!”
“Then God bless that liter of water if it can make you smile, my friend.”
14
Olivia found her phone face down on the coffee table the next morning, next to the sofa where she had spent the night. On the screen was a long list of missed calls, all of them from Laurel. Olivia needed a moment to fully awaken, but reminders of the previous evening’s pain returned. She wanted to shut the world out, but silence would send Laurel racing from Portland to Olivia’s door to check on her, which would necessitate a rehashing of the very twenty-four hours she was trying to forget.
She sent a text.
Laurel, got your message. Thanks for calling. I’m home. Chat soon. O
“I’m here.”
Still achy, she clomped to the door and opened it. The women headed to the sofa for a complete retelling of the ups and hades-level downs of the previous day. When the tale was told, Laurel moved beside Olivia on the sofa and patted her own shoulder. Olivia accepted the invitation, laying her head there.
“I’m so sorry. I knew Hudson loved you as soon as I saw the two of you in this house.”
“It doesn’t matter now. I don’t deserve him. I blamed him, and then Jeff for my unhappiness, and I realized something ugly yesterday, Laurel. Jeff wasn’t the only one who failed our marriage. I married Jeff, but I never stopped loving Hudson. What kind of person does that make me?”
Laurel reached a hand up to stroke Olivia’s hair. “Don’t you think Jeff knew how Hudson felt about you?”
“He must have. Hudson said Jeff betrayed him.”
“And Jeff had to have known how you felt about Hudson.”