“You shouldn’t,” he promised.
Then Ruthie closed her eyes and slept.
—
She woke up disoriented. The feel of the silk sheets beneath her wasn’t the cotton of her own bed. Somewhere in the house a cuckoo clock sounded. She was in Tobias’s house.
And with the last crow of the cuckoo, the night before came rushing back at her. Her hand splayed out, running over the other side of the bed. He was gone.
So much ecstasy, and she was falling hard now into reality. Her hand bumped into a piece of paper. Her heart clutched in her chest. She didn’t want to read it. She couldn’t read it.
The heavy embossed paper taunted her with its series of raised dots that held the promise of painful words. She sat up, pushing her hair back and telling herself it was just a note. He’d learned Braille for her—had even gone so far as to buy a Braille typewriter so he could leave her little notes.
Dear Ruthie—
You gave me something precious last night. Something I don’t deserve. The simple truth is I cannot take what you’re offering. I need more and I won’t break your sweetness to get it. Stanton will be waiting to pick you up. If you love me as you say you do, you won’t revisit this. Move on with your life as if I don’t exist, and I’ll do the same.
I wish you well.
Tobias
Oh, it was worse than she’d suspected. He’d ended it all. She’d pushed him and he’d withdrawn. The tears fell down her cheeks, her heart roiled in her chest, and her brain splintered. She was the one who couldn’t see, but Tobias was the blind one.
Ruthie ripped the paper into tiny pieces, flinging them away. Then she got out of bed and reached for her coat, which she knew he’d placed within arm’s length. She winced as she pulled it on. Her muscles had been well used, and his marks reminded her of everything she was losing, so she ignored her body’s protests.
It took her minutes to make it to the door, and when she opened it, Stanton was there.
“Miss,” he said politely.
“Hey, Stanton,” she responded softly. She grabbed his arm and let him lead her to the car. Had she sight, she wouldn’t have looked back, because even though she’d left her heart there, she would not let him mock her.
He’d left, and sure as hell was hot, Ruthie was finished giving herself to a man who didn’t want everything she was willing to give.
More, he’d said. Ruthie wondered if he’d ever find it.
“Where to, Miss Copeland?”
“Home, Stanton. Thank you,” she said.
As the car pulled away she didn’t mourn. There’d be time for tears later, but even as she told herself that, the tears fell again, hot and scalding, burning a wicked trace down her cheeks.
She’d get over this. She would.
So it became a mantra, one she repeated until even she began to believe it. She’d have to be in the same space with him in the future, but not for a while. Before she’d become involved with Tobias she’d considered a move to Las Vegas. Ruthie loved the sun, and the sun always shone in Vegas.
She could paint, let the constant sun banish her shadows, and she’d find peace.
Damn it, she would find peace.