by Donna Alward
This was her life. Hers. And now, hers alone. The past was gone, melted away in a few short paragraphs.
She had to read it once more to make sure it was true.
Dear Ms Ross,
I am writing to inform you of the death of Robert Langston.
He died on November 25, when the vehicle he was driving left the road and overturned. Alcohol was determined a factor in the crash.
Mari wiped away tears. He was gone. He had no power to hurt her anymore.
She kept reading, the rest scrawled in semi-neat handwriting at the bottom of the page.
I know this isn’t procedure, but I wanted to notify you myself. As the arresting officer in the original case, I have often thought of you and your mother. Some cases are like that. I can only say that I hope you are well and that perhaps this might provide some sort of resolution for you and Mrs. Langston.
Sincerely,
Cst. Pat Moore
She remembered Constable Moore. He’d been steady, firm, gentle when questioning her at the hospital and then later when he’d testified at the trial. Somehow, having him be the one to break the news brought things full circle, even through something as simple as a letter. She wondered briefly if her mother was somewhere tonight, reading an identical letter, feeling the same relief…and regret.
Her first instinct was to tell Luca.
Mari looked up, swiping a finger under her lashes. Telling Luca was the last thing she should do, though. They’d all but said goodbye tonight. And he’d dealt with her problems enough. No, it was time to stand on her own two feet. The fact that she could…and be worry free…was a heady thought.
Standing, she walked over to where the painting he’d given her hung. She skimmed her fingers over the surface, the letter dangling from her opposite hand. She knew now what she hadn’t been able to put together the day she’d first seen it. She knew now not only that it had spoken to her, but what it said.
It was life; the life in her that he’d awakened. The life she’d fought for every step of the way. And it bled on the canvas and she realized that by living, by feeling, she’d also opened herself up to hurt. And the shocking, glorious realization that it had been worth it.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. She had sworn up and down that she’d moved on from the wounds Robert had inflicted on her, but that wasn’t true. She’d only covered them up. And then she’d met Luca and he’d made her face them, and he’d made her fall in love with him.
Only she’d been so crippled she hadn’t had the courage to fight for him. Even tonight she’d simply accepted what he’d said—that he was leaving.
She took the letter, crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the fire.
Over the past weeks she’d wondered if she’d only been attracted to Luca because of Robert and what he’d done to her. She’d asked herself if she’d felt such an attachment because he seemed to protect her from her fear. Wondered if she’d been receptive to him because she’d needed him to make her feel safe after Robert had been released.
But it wasn’t true, none of it.
As the paper curled and flamed, reducing to ash, she knew without a doubt that she was free. And that freedom did absolutely nothing to release her from the longing she had for Luca.
The painting brought it all back, fresh and new. Luca’s smile, his eyes, the way he challenged her and pushed her and kissed her. The way he’d gotten her to talk about her abuse and how she’d come to rely on him.
But the man who had made her life a living hell, who had beaten her mother and then her, who had put her in the hospital for weeks and who had caused years of therapy…was suddenly gone.
She no longer had to look around corners. She no longer had to deal with updates from parole officers, victim impact statements, or worry if he’d try to find her or if he’d come back to finish the job. She’d had no doubt that he was capable of it. And there was a little bit of guilt in the fact that a man had to die for her to feel free of her own personal prison.
She was rid of Robert Langston and she had the job, the life, she’d always wanted.
And somehow, she still felt completely empty.
She straightened her shoulders. As if preordained, the words of the note that had accompanied the painting rang in her ears: “When it speaks to your heart, you know it’s the right one.”
She’d been so very utterly wrong.
It hadn’t been about Robert. It was about Luca. He was the one that spoke to her heart. He was the right one. She could either accept what he’d said tonight or she could fight for him. And she had no idea if she was brave enough to go through with it.
There had been no chance to speak privately. With Luca planning on leaving so soon, the morning was completely filled with meetings and details. Mari looked across the table at him. The sinking feeling that had begun last night widened to a gulf that threatened to swallow her up.
It wasn’t about drapes and fixtures and figures anymore.
She already felt the loss of him and didn’t know how she was going to manage it when he was gone. And she had no confidence at all in her ability to convince him to stay.
Something had changed. The sound of his voice as he hashed things over with the plumbing contractor both grounded her and filled her with emptiness. Never, in the seven years since she’d been attacked, had she let down her guard so completely. She’d been so used to reacting to things that she didn’t know how to take control and act. And while he thought that giving her control of the Cascade was what she wanted, nothing was further from the truth. A month ago she would have taken it gladly. But now…it meant nothing, not without Luca.
But it wasn’t what they agreed, and she had spent the better part of the morning desperately trying to find a time to speak to him in private to tell him that she’d changed.
Luca wound up the meeting and shook hands with the contractor. Mari smiled and offered her hand as well, knowing that from this moment on she would be the one carrying out Luca’s vision. She was pleased he trusted her enough to leave her with it. No one had ever shown her that much faith before. But at what cost? She wanted them to do it together. They had thus far and it had changed her life. The last thing she wanted was to go back to her old life. It was drab and colorless now.
The door to the conference room had just closed and Mari turned, wanting to say something and not knowing what. For a few long seconds their eyes clashed and she wished she knew how to put into words what she was feeling.
Mari straightened her blouse. Should she ask him to lunch? Suggest something else? Her stomach twisted.
“That covers it, then.” His voice came quietly across the room and she closed her eyes, wondering if she could take the sound of it and commit it to memory.
“Piece of cake,” she replied, trying to inject some vigor into her words. They fell flat.
“Mari, I…”
“Luca, would…”
They both halted as they interrupted each other. He held out his hand, offering to let her go first.
Always the gentleman.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have some lunch before you leave for the airport.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
Mari shook her head. Would she feel better or worse for it? “Probably not. But I’m tired of being wise.”
The air crackled between them. She didn’t look away, couldn’t. She wanted to remember how he looked in his Italian suits, remember the sound of his voice, the way his cologne smelled. Wanted to imprint everything about him on her memory. She’d thought they had time, but after last night, the sand in the hourglass was slipping away much too quickly.
From the moment he’d stepped up and defended her, something had snapped, had turned around. Perhaps it was ridiculous, but she’d felt part of a unit. That with him beside her Robert couldn’t hurt her anymore. She loved him for that. Loved him for giving her safety, and freedom. He was her asylum.
Now he was taking it away, and she refus
ed to accept it. She didn’t need asylum anymore. Robert was gone. He had no power over her now. And she wanted Luca more than ever before.
“Mari.” He leaned back against the conference table and folded his arms. His lips were unsmiling, troubled. “Mari, if we do this it won’t change anything. I’m still leaving.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” He looked confused and his arms unfolded. “Don’t say goodbye? Would you rather I left without a word?”
Mari swallowed every single ounce of fear and lifted her eyes to his. “Don’t go.”
He sighed. “You’ll be fine here. You don’t need me.”
She shook her head. She’d opened the door and damn it, she was going to walk through it.
“I do need you. More than you know. Robert…”
Luca’s back came away from the wall. “Robert what? Did he contact you?” His hands gripped her elbows and she tried to ignore the thrill that shot through her, just having him this close. “Is he trying to find you? I swear, Mari, if he…”
Mari shook her head quickly. “No, no! Of course not…Luca, Robert is dead.”
Luca released her arms and stared at her dumbly. She started to laugh at his confounded expression.
“I’m sorry. But you should see your face.”
“How did it happen?”
“Car accident. I opened the letter when I got home last night.”
Luca came forward and hugged her, surprising her with the strength of the embrace. “I’m glad. Oh that sounds awful, doesn’t it? But I was worried about you. I told Vince…”
Mari pulled away. “You told Vince what?” Vince was their head of security, and she’d hired him herself two years earlier.
“I told him to keep an eye on you. To make sure you were protected.”
“And why does that matter to you?”
“How can you ask that?” He nearly exploded, spinning around and going behind the table, putting it between them.
Mari smiled and leaned slightly over the polished top. “I am asking that very thing. Why does my protection matter to you?”
“Because I…” He faltered and then scowled. “You know why.”
Oh, her Luca. He’d helped her more in a few short weeks than months of therapy ever had. She didn’t know how she could ever explain how much that meant. She knew in her heart she couldn’t let him go without a fight, so for the first time in her life, she stopped hiding in the shadows and came out to face her fear head-on.
She let all her love for him shine out of her eyes. “Yes, I think I know why.” She straightened, folded her hands demurely and said with far more confidence than she felt: “Then stay. I love you, Luca. Stay with me and love me back.”
Nothing she could have said could have affected him more. His heart pounded at her words for a brief moment of elation before reality kicked in.
And in some small corner of his mind, he heard voices from his past. Voices asking for love and having it denied. Of going through the motions until it just wasn’t enough. He wasn’t fool enough to believe Mari actually meant it. And even if he did love her back—which he couldn’t possibly—it would be impossible for him to say the words.
“Mari, I don’t know what to say.” He knew he sounded cold and wished it were different. “I know what we said last night, about it meaning something, that was all true. But love…” His voice trailed away. He couldn’t say the words that leaped into his brain. I’m not ready for love.
“You’ve been through a horrible ordeal, and I think if you take time to look at it rationally, you’ll see your feelings are misplaced gratitude.”
“I do owe you thanks,” she agreed, and from the way she worried her fingers he could tell this wasn’t coming easily for her. “For showing me how to feel again, Luca. For forcing me out of my box and into the world again.”
Oh, what had he done! His brilliant plans. Never had he considered they would end like this!
“I don’t need your gratitude.”
She drew back and he tried hard to ignore the hurt his jab had caused. It was written all over her face.
“You’re turning me away.”
He came around the table and took her icy hand in his. He’d give anything not to be breaking her heart right now, but he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He didn’t know how. He’d fought against it his whole life! He couldn’t just change who he was in an instant, just because she asked him to.
He remembered how she’d cried on his chest and poured out her pain. Hated himself for how much he wanted to stay and hold her that way. She’d made him weak. That’s what she’d done to him without even trying. And because he knew she hadn’t meant to do it, he placed all the blame firmly on himself for becoming vulnerable to her. And for giving her hope where he shouldn’t have.
He squeezed her fingers. “I meant what I said last night. We did have a connection, you and me. We just knew it wasn’t forever. I will always look back on this as a fond memory.”
He didn’t know how to handle her tears, but to his surprise she pulled her hands away from his and straightened her shoulders.
“A fond memory. That’s all.” She tried a smile but he saw through it to how deeply he’d hurt her and regret had a bitter taste.
He had to get out now before he made a huge fool of himself or hurt her feelings further. There really was no choice. He was due in Paris. He’d given his word he’d be there and he’d never broken a promise to his father, even when he’d wanted to. Yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to break ties with the Cascade, either. Changing it, restoring it, had meant a great deal to him and he hated having to walk away from all their hard work. It was more than a project. It was his and Mari’s project. At least he knew that he was leaving it in good hands.
“I’m sorry you thought it was more. I’ll be in touch anyway, about the hotel. So this isn’t really goodbye.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Her blue eyes blazed up at him, looking for truth and he didn’t have any to give.
“Yes, that’s all.”
“This is goodbye, then. After everything.”
He nodded. Perhaps it was kinder to let her go angry. Maybe it would make it easier for her to move on. His stomach burned acidly at the thought, but he carried on. “Yes. I assured my father I’d be in Paris as soon as I could. I’m leaving with Charlie within the hour.”
She held out her hand. “Goodbye, Luca. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
He took her hand and felt the trembling there.
“Goodbye, Mariella.”
She pulled her hand away and retrieved her purse. She walked down the hall and out the doors, through the parking garage to her car.
And once she was inside, she finally let it all go in a rash of weeping. She’d risked it all. And lost.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DAWN wasn’t gray; it was pure white.
Mari looked out the window and shook her head. Last night she hadn’t given a thought to a storm, but at this time of year anything could happen in the mountains. Should she go in to work, or take a day off? It was a short drive, but her road hadn’t been cleared and she wasn’t sure her little car could handle the curves. Not to mention the return drive, up the hill. Flakes were still falling in thick pads, obscuring the view of even the parking area above the cottage.
Tommy came back in from his trip to the yard, shaking the snow from his golden coat with great enthusiasm. Mari gave him an absent pat and went to the bathroom. Seeing her puffy eyes in the mirror, she decided that there were advantages to being the boss. She made the necessary call—they’d be running on essential staff today anyway—and decided she could work from home this once. She would log in to the server at the hotel and access all her files, and if anything was pressing Becky could phone.
She put on the coffeepot and calculated the time difference in Paris. It was afternoon there already. What was he doing?
Before long, he’d be in Italy, with his father and
Gina and her children. All she’d wanted when he’d walked in that first morning was to get rid of him and retain her manager’s job. And now she’d done it. And knew that the sad reality was that yesterday she’d been prepared to give it all up if only he would have said he loved her back.
She was starting on her second cup of coffee when a knock sounded at the door. She opened it to find Luca there, bundled in a heavy parka with Bow Valley Inn embroidered on the front. It was obvious he’d raided the old boutique storage for suitable outerwear.
“Luca!”
“Can I come in?”
She had been so shocked to see him that she’d been standing in the doorway like a dolt. “Of course! How did you…when are…I mean, what happened to your flight?”
He stepped inside, his already tall figure made even larger by the addition of winter boots and the jacket. “I didn’t take it,” he replied, pulling a black toque off his head and shoving it into a pocket. His normally precisely gelled hair was in disarray from the hat. To Mari, he’d never looked better.
And she was suddenly acutely aware that she stood before him, barefoot and braless in a pair of pink candy-striped flannel pyjamas.
“Oh Lord, excuse me a moment!” Her cheeks went hot as his gaze remained pinned to her flannel jammies.
“Mariella,” he said, and her feet refused to move.
Just yesterday he’d said goodbye. He’d taken her protestation of love and had politely, but quite definitively, rejected it. Why was he here now?
“I couldn’t get on that plane.”
“You couldn’t?”
He shook his head. And she frantically tried to beat down the hope that fluttered in her heart. There was no sense getting her hopes up. They’d said all there was to say. He’d been crystal clear.
He unzipped his coat, shrugging out of it. When he stood there with it in his hands, it came to her that she should hang it up for him.