One to Hold (One to Hold 1)

We caught the elevator down and then walked out into the still-cool morning. Neither of us spoke, but our hands were clasped tightly like two teenagers at the end of a summer romance. Once we reached the entrance to the spa hotel, he stopped and faced me.

“Last name?” he asked, but I shook my head no. I didn’t want him investigating me. I didn’t want him knowing. He exhaled. “I’ve been thinking. Maryland’s not so far.”

“I’ll be going back to Wilmington soon,” I said quietly.

He nodded, and something flickered in his eyes, thoughtful if still sad. “That’s good. I hope you’ll be happier there.”

A line creased my brow. “What do you mean?”

“That first night I saw you in the bar,” he paused, as if searching for the right words. “You were so sad.”

I relaxed. “If I’m happy now, I have you to thank.”

He reached forward and slid a curl off my cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured.

I remembered his odd gratitude the few first times we’d made love. “Why did you? Thank me, I mean. Those first times.”

“I knew you were doing something unusual, something you’d probably never have done.” He paused a moment, choosing his words. “I kept holding my breath, waiting for you to push me away or make me stop, and when you didn’t…”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He smiled. “You’re amazing. And you let me have you.”

He had no idea how much I’d let him have. For a moment we were quiet. I hated this goodbye so much. Suddenly, he reached forward and caught both my hands. He took a deep breath and looked straight into my eyes as if he’d just made a decision.

“I never expected things to go this way. To get so involved so fast.” He paused, glancing briefly at our clasped hands. I started to speak, but he continued. “And then I said a week, as if I could just do this one-week thing…”

My stomach was so tight, but I only blinked, waiting to hear him out.

“We both have lives back home,” he continued, “and maybe you can’t share your life with me now. But I’d take your call anytime.” He was holding my hands so securely. “I hope this goodbye isn’t—”

“Forever,” I said softly with him. His childhood game drifted through my memory.

My eyes were warm, and he stepped forward, releasing my hands and cupping my cheeks as he kissed me gently, then deeply. When we see each other again, I thought, this is what we’ll do. I placed my hands over his, opening my mouth to him for the last time, fighting tears with everything I had. I didn’t want his last memory to be of me crying.

When he stepped back, he touched the heart at my throat. “I meant what I wrote.”

I lifted it in my fingers. “I’ll take good care of it.”

The plane ride back to Maryland was miserable. Elaine and I were both quiet, thoughtful, and I could tell her parting with Patrick had been emotional, too. But in contrast, they’d exchanged contact information and a promise to keep in touch. I couldn’t do that.

In Atlanta, we parted ways, her headed east and me north. We hugged each other, and it was comforting to know we were close enough to be in this silent place of misery together and not have to question it, pick it apart, or even discuss it.

“So our next trip,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’ll start planning it the minute I get unpacked.”

I nodded, my smile tight. Tears were close in my eyes, but my friend didn’t seem to notice. I could tell she had her own tears to manage.

“Have a great start of the school year,” I said, squeezing her hands, not wanting to let her go.

She hugged me close. “I’ll be so glad when you’re finally home.”

“Me, too,” I breathed. “It shouldn’t be long now. I’ll keep you posted.”

With that we went our separate ways—at least temporarily.

The entire trip to Baltimore, I couldn’t rest. I couldn’t read. I only stared out the little window thinking of Derek

and missing him so much. I was alone, headed back to my unfinished business, and Sloan had been calling the entire time. He was certain to be furious, and when he was furious…