A Christmas Night to Remember(53)
‘Great. That makes it much better,’ he said with grim sarcasm. ‘I’m so unimportant I didn’t even register on your radar.’
‘Stop being like this.’ Her voice came out sharper than she had intended—probably because she was desperately trying to keep cool so she could think about what to say, how to reach him. ‘I hate it when you’re this way.’
His eyes went flint-hard. ‘Like what?’ he said slowly and deliberately. ‘Like I’m angry or hurting or scared rigid? Like I lie awake every night trying to make an impossible situation possible again, knowing I’m up against an adversary who holds all the cards because I love her? My life is falling apart and everything’s disintegrating. I am going quietly crazy and I can’t concentrate on anything but us. But I mustn’t show it. Is that right? Well, tough. I’m human, believe it or not.’
Melody’s heart stopped. Zeke was always professional, the consummate business tycoon. No matter what happened he didn’t let it interfere with his work. She hadn’t really thought about how her accident was affecting him because she had been too caught up in her own pain and grief, but if she had given it thought she would have expected he was carrying on as normal, engrossed in the daily exhilarating and hectic whirl that made up his show business empire. But that hadn’t been the case at all. And he had already admitted he was blaming himself for not meeting her for lunch that day, as they had originally planned. The guilt of that must have been playing on his mind too. He’d been tormenting himself every bit as much as she had.
She swallowed against the painful lump in her throat as her heart kick-started and then pounded against her ribcage so hard it hurt. How had she missed the fact he was suffering too?
Because she had been so wrapped up in herself, a separate and merciless part of her mind said honestly. So immersed in her battle first to survive and then to claw her way out of the deep fog of despair and depression. And Mabel was right. It was fear which governed her life now. Somewhere in the midst of those first weeks she had let it master her and it had remained in control ever since. It had coloured every thought, every decision.
She had hurt him. Badly. She had pushed him away when he had needed her as much as she had needed him. She had even stopped him visiting her in the hospital. What had he said? That he had resorted to driving to the hospital car park at night just to be near her. Why hadn’t she realised he’d been asking for help too? How could she have got it so terribly wrong?
Melody stared at him. He hadn’t taken the time to shave when he had found her gone, and his hair looked as though he had run his hand through it a few times—probably in anger. And he had lost some weight over the past months. Altogether he looked harder, sexier and more devastatingly attractive than ever. She loved him, she thought wretchedly. She loved him more than life itself and she had torn them to shreds with her blind stupidity.
She drew in a steadying breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said simply. ‘I’ve done everything wrong and I don’t blame you if you’re sick and tired of me, if you hate me.’
‘Hate you? I love you!’ He was shouting now, and it was a relief. ‘I love you so much I’m going crazy, woman. What the hell do you want from me, anyway? Tell me, because I’d really like to know. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it, damn it.’
Just hours ago she wouldn’t have been able to answer him truthfully—especially when he was glaring at her with such deep intensity the black of his eyes glowed like hot coals. ‘I want you to keep loving me because I love you and I can’t do without you.’ There—she had said it, and now the fear was rising up, strangling her, as the enormity of what she’d done washed over her. She stared at him, waiting for his reaction.
Zeke didn’t move or even blink for an endless moment, then his whole body relaxed with a deep exhalation. ‘Come here,’ he said softly, opening his arms. ‘We need to talk. I have to understand and you have to open up. But first I need to hold you and convince myself you’re really here and not at the bottom of the Thames or in some other guy’s arms.’
He held her for a long time without speaking, and although she had wrapped her arms round his waist Melody was aware her heart was pounding like a drum. This was the moment of truth—or at least the next little while would be the moment of truth. Because their talk could only end in one way, and when it did, when they made love, he would look at her scars. They both knew that. The thought made her feel physically sick.