Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(84)

The clock on the screen ticked off its final minutes. He’d always been tenacious, but she’d somehow taken the fight out of him. He knew he was hurting her, even if he didn’t understand exactly how, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Kristy Brown.

“Kristy, what’s happening to you?”

“Life is happening to me,” she said softly. “Finally.”

“What does that mean?”

Her silence lasted so long he didn’t think she would answer, but she did. “It means I’ve finally stopped living in the past. I’m ready to move on with my life.” She looked over at him in a way that made him think she was engaged in some internal struggle. “It means I’m not going to be in love with you anymore, Ethan.”

He felt as if a jolt of electricity had passed right through him, except he didn’t know why he should be shocked. At some unconscious level, he supposed he’d known she was in love with him, but he hadn’t let himself think about it.

She gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh that made him ache. “I’ve been so pathetic. All that wasted time. For eight years I sat at my desk, Little Miss Efficiency, bustling around to find your car keys and make sure you had milk in the refrigerator, and you never even noticed. I had so little regard for myself.”

He had no idea what to say.

“Do you know what’s really ironic?” There was no bitterness in her voice. She spoke calmly, almost as if she were talking about someone else. “I would have been the perfect woman for you, but you never noticed. And now it’s too late.”

“What do you mean, the perfect woman?” And why was it too late?

She regarded him sadly, as if his failure to understand disappointed her. “We have the same interests, similar backgrounds. I like looking after people, and you need looking after. We share the same religious beliefs.” A slight shrug. “But none of that mattered because I wasn’t hot enough for you.”

“Hot enough! What kind of thing is that to say? Do you think that’s all I look for in a woman?”

“Yes. And please don’t patronize me. We’ve known each other too long.”

He got mad. “Now I get it. That’s what all of these changes have been about. The tight clothes, the new hairstyle, that damned perfume. You got yourself fixed up so I’d notice, didn’t you? Well, I noticed, all right, and I hope you’re happy about it.”


The Wise God of Talk Shows clucked her tongue. Ethan . . . Ethan . . . Ethan . . .

Instead of retaliating as she should have, Kristy smiled. “It’s a good thing you did notice, or I’m not sure how long it would have taken me to come to my senses.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s so fundamental, Ethan. So trite. But I guess the simple truths are always like that, aren’t they? Rachel warned me when this started that, if I wanted to make changes, I needed to make them for myself and not for you or anyone else. I pretended to agree with her, but I didn’t really understand how right she was until that day I showed up for work all dressed to kill and you were so appalled with me.”

“Kristy, I wasn’t—”

She held up her hand. “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not upset about it any longer. I’m even grateful. Your rejection pushed me to do some things with my life I’ve needed to do all along.”

“I didn’t reject you! And I don’t see how you can just instantly fall out of love with somebody you said you’ve loved for years.” What was he doing? Was he trying to talk her into loving him?

“You’re right. You can’t.” He felt a tiny spurt of hope, but it was quickly dashed as she went on. “Now I know that it hasn’t been love. That needs to work two ways. What I’ve felt for you was infatuation, obsession. You’ve been my fatal attraction.”

And now you are one boiled bunny, the Mighty Talk Show Host pointed out.

“I think you’re giving up on us too easily,” he heard himself saying.

“What are you talking about?”

“Our relationship.”

“Ethan, we don’t have a relationship.”

“Yes, we do! How long have we known each other? Since—what, sixth grade?”

“I was in third grade. You were in fourth. Our classrooms were across the hall from each other.”

He nodded, as if he’d known that, but the truth was, he didn’t remember.

“You and Ricky Jenkins came plowing out of the door one day after school, and Ricky crashed into me.” She began packing up their untouched food, her movements automatic. “I was carrying some books and a salt map of Mexico. I fell, the books went everywhere, Mexico cracked. I was so shy then. I hated for anyone to notice me, and, of course, I was mortified. Ricky ran right on, but you stopped and helped me pick everything up. When Ricky looked back and saw what you were doing, he yelled out, ‘Don’t touch her, Eth. You’ll get cooties.’ ”

She looked over at him, and a small smile curled her lips. “I wanted to die when he said that, but you didn’t pay any attention, even though some of the other boys had started to laugh. You took my arm and helped me get up, then you handed me my books and told me I could probably fix Mexico without too much trouble.”

The clock on the screen had disappeared, and the second feature was about to begin. She folded her hands in her lap, as if that were the end of it, and he could feel her slipping away from him.