“Invite me in,” he ground out in a voice she barely recognized as his. A voice that bordered on angry, cold, devoid of any feelings for her. “There is something I have to tell you, and I’d rather not do so standing in your doorway smelling these damned roses.”
Liz’s heart sank. Something bad had happened.
Or was about to happen.
Was Adam breaking up with her?
Had she been wrong in her confidence in their love?
All the feelings of the past, feelings of those who loved her walking away, slammed full force into her, usurping her belief in her ability to be loved.
No, she reminded herself, Gramps loved you. You are lovable.
But still childhood wounds opened. Her confidence wavered and she couldn’t meet Adam’s eyes.
“Come in,” she said, and spun away, fighting tears.
She walked over to the sofa where she’d been sitting and picked up her plate. She really had no appetite, but needed her hands busy so she forked up a bite. Forced her mouth around the tasteless food.
He stood, watching her eat, making swallowing seem impossible beneath his stare.
“Good to see you’re eating. You’ve lost weight and look awful.”
What? She lifted her gaze to glare. “You come into my house and criticize me?” She couldn’t help the defensiveness in her voice. Kelly had told her pretty much the same thing only minutes before, but that was her friend who hadn’t been shunning her. Not someone who had been giving her the cold shoulder and winced when she’d reached for him.
“Stating the obvious isn’t criticizing,” he said matter-of-factly.
She dropped her gaze back to her plate, staring at a crouton, wishing he’d sit down so he wouldn’t tower over her, wishing she understood what was going on, afraid of what that understanding might bring with it.
She closed her eyes, hoping
all the warning bells sounding in her head were wrong.
“The past few weeks have been strained.”
He had no idea.
“You’ve avoided me,” she accused softly, struggling to keep her earlier defensiveness from slipping back into her voice. “I don’t understand what’s going on between us, Adam. If I’ve done something, just tell me. We’ll discuss it and figure out how to make it right.” She gulped. “If you don’t want to make it right, well, we’ll figure that out, too. Just tell me what’s going on so I can understand.”
His frustration became a palpable pulse between them. Without looking, she knew he raked his fingers through his hair. It’s what he did when searching that genius mind of his for a solution to a problem.
Unfortunately, she was the problem.
Although she wanted to hang onto her faith in his feelings for her like a protective shield, she felt loss prickling at her soul, robbing her strength to hold herself together.
No. No. No. She would not cry. She wouldn’t.
“Liz, I… You…” His voice broke, as if he was struggling as much as she was. As if he battled within himself and didn’t know how to deal with whatever ailed him.
She glanced up, needing to see what was on his face, in his heart, because for the life of her she just didn’t understand what was happening between them.
He’d jerked away from her touch.
“Aw, Liz, I can’t do what I came to do.” With those strangled words he took her hands, pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “Lord, forgive me,” he whispered into her hair, “but I just can’t.”
Can’t what? she wondered, meant to ask, but he held her tight, closed his eyes and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent. Held her like he’d missed her every bit as much as she’d missed him, maybe more.
“Liz,” he moaned. “My sweet, beautiful Liz.”