The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(41)
“But you’d still have wanted out.” Those words dropped from his lips with the unmistakable sound of dejection before he thought better of them.
“Yes.” She looked away.
Even after all these years, her answer smarted more than it should. He’d always wished she’d regretted her decision, not just the way she’d done it. Hell, an uncharitable part of him had sometimes fantasized that she’d spent nights alone, crying over old photographs.
Her soft voice broke that train of thought. “It was never about you, Ryan. It was about me. As much as I loved fantasizing about a life together, it sometimes felt like my whole future was set before I even got a chance to know my options. I didn’t want to be the small-town girl who’d only had one boyfriend . . . who’d only known a small-town life. I kept thinking of my mom. Of how she’d grown up in Sanctuary Sound, married her high school sweetheart, and died in that house by fifty, having never seen or experienced anything else.
“I know she loved my dad and us kids, but I overheard her talking to Aunt Jess once about how she was really sad that she was going to die without visiting the Louvre, seeing the Grand Canyon, or knowing the thrill of realizing other personal dreams. I don’t know why, but that summer trip to Spain was a trigger. As my twentieth birthday got closer, I kept thinking, What if I’m halfway through my life already? Is this all there is? Is this all I’ll know? It scared me. I needed to see more so I’d know that my life and choices were based on more than habit and familiarity.”
Her emotion-thick voice tugged at his empathy, and he found himself holding her a little closer. Her explanation, while understandable, didn’t erase the pain she’d caused, but that context certainly shone a new light on their past.
Unlike her, he’d gone farther away to college. His family had traveled more widely. He’d been content, thinking they’d explore the world together. But she’d been sheltered—maybe even smothered—by her dad and brothers . . . and, to some extent, by him.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
She’d been honest, so he owed her the same. “I wish you would’ve at least written me a letter at some point just to explain all that. It sucked to have no clue . . . no closure. And if I’d understood . . .” He thought of how he’d channeled his pain into the comfort of another woman. “I might’ve been patient. Things might’ve turned out differently.” Of course, he’d never wish away Emmy.
“I was ashamed and embarrassed, and then once I knew I’d succeeded and you hated me, there wasn’t anything to say or do to make it better.”
“I almost got in my car and stormed your campus, but pride kept me in Boston.”
“And then you met Val.” Her gaze dropped over his shoulder.
His body recoiled at the mention of his ex-wife. So much so, Steffi probably felt his muscles tighten. “Actually, I’d known her for a couple of years. Val was a cheerleader, so she’d been at all of my games. She came on strong once she’d heard I was free, and my broken ego welcomed her attention. She was about as opposite of you as could be—blonde, girlie as hell, treating me like some kind of God—which made her perfect at the time. Not so perfect as time went by, though. Obviously.”
“Her loss.” Steffi flashed an ironic smile. “Trust me, I know.”
He almost tripped over her words. If she’d truly missed him, it meant that their love hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. It hadn’t been one-sided. “So you never met anyone special in all these years?”
“No one that made what I did worthwhile.” Another sheepish smile emerged. “Turns out maybe my mom’s choices were a lot smarter than I realized.”
Ryan hesitated to read between the lines. That way lay danger, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But maybe the time Steffi had taken to discover what she wanted had taught her that she’d actually had everything she’d needed. She’d just learned it too late.
Now they were back in Sanctuary Sound. Both single. Both starting over.
Much as he wanted to resist it, he could feel the hand of fate in play. John crossed Val’s path so Ryan would end up here now. Emmy had taken to Steffi so quickly. He didn’t know, though, just like he wasn’t sure whether this battle between his heart and mind was one worth fighting.
He’d come tonight for answers, although those answers only led to more questions—ones without easy answers. The most important of which was: Had he ever really gotten over Steffi Lockwood?
Her arm settled over his shoulder. His leg slid between hers as he turned her in a circle. When their bodies fitted together almost as if they’d never been apart, he suspected he knew the answer, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it aloud.
Chapter Nine
It could’ve been the familiarity of their bodies finding the rhythm together, or his musing over her explanation, that caused Ryan’s softening, but for those precious beats of time dancing in close comfort, Steffi held her breath. When the final notes of the ballad faded and his self-awareness returned, he eased away from her, and the invisible fence between them reassembled.
“Think I’ll sit the next one out,” he said, gesturing toward the table.
“Sure.” She remained still on the floor even after he’d started toward the table, as if standing there could extend the dance that ended too soon.