Page 21 of Reaching Hearts

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Page 21 of Reaching Hearts

He sits up straighter. “Do you have it with you?”

Biting my lip, I shake my head. “I don’t. One of my employees might have it? I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

He slouches against the bed. “Great.” Then to himself he adds more quietly, “Hopefully she’ll come back.”

“We really have to go,” Maria says, holding the door open.

“Okay,” I look over to him, a knot twisting in my stomach.

His eyes close and he says nothing. If she’s not his girlfriend, and he’s reacting this way, who is she to him? Wait, is she like I am to him? Am I like her? I turn and avoid Maria’s eyes as I pass through the door.

Maria looks down as the door shuts behind us. “We need to get you some socks.”

Through the door, he yells, “Annie!”

My heart leaps into my throat. Stepping back in, I ask, “Yes?”

He’s frustrated. “I can’t even go chase you down if I want to. This is ridiculous.” There’s a war going on inside of him and it’s all playing out through his eyes. He’s struggling to say more, so I wait, holding the door open. “I just want to say, I’m glad you’re okay.

It’s so plain that wasn’t what he was going to say. Will I ever know? “I’m glad you are, too.”

He nods. He’s always got so much going on behind those eyes of his. I know that inside his mind are things he doesn’t share with anyone. Probably not even Mark. He has a loneliness that lives in his eyes, an underlying sadness. As we look at each other, I know he’s not going to say more now, so I tap the door and turn to leave.

“Come back and see me when you can,” he calls out.

I look over, surprised. “Okay.” He doesn’t smile, so I lay my head on the edge of the open door and look at him. “I’m sorry we were interrupted. I was having fun.”

A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I was too.”

“Sucks.”

“It does,” he chuckles, brightening despite everything.

I tap the door again and turn and leave with Maria and when we’ve walked far enough away, she throws me a sideways glance. “He likes you.”

I’m staring ahead, my steps cold on the floor and my arm aching. “God, I hope so.” We don’t say anything else because my mind is with a woman who got to him before I did, who loves him, too, and who might just be more of a problem than I think. Lord knows I don’t want to have to fight for him, but I fucking will if I have to.




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