Page 69 of Pinch of Love
I didn’t know where to begin. My worlds collided. I’d kept Freya neatly tucked away where I could think of her fondly on-demand. She was where I needed her to be, but talking aloud with someone would change that. Emotions could get involved. Misunderstandings.
“Have you been married before?” I asked Maya.
She shook her head. “No, thank God. It would have been Rob.”
I nodded.
Maya shivered at the thought, but her gaze caught mine. “Have you?”
I leaned over, propping my elbows on my knees as I stared straight out the row of windows.
“Yes. Her name was Freya.”
Maya’s breath caught.
“She passed away the first year of our marriage.”
Maya gasped and reached out to my arm, wrapping her tiny fingers around as much of it as she could.
“Cash, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She shook her head. “I feel absolutely ridiculous about my stuff when you’ve been through so much.”
I straightened and turned to see compassion spilling out of Maya.
But I didn’t see pity.
For the first time in a long time, someone was looking at me and recognizing the sorrow of the situation, the gravity of the loss, but she wasn’t pitying me.
“Two different situations,” I said gruffly.
“When?” Maya asked. “When did your wife pass?”
Tears rested on the edge of Maya’s bottom lids, and I smiled, realizing why Maya truly chose her profession. She had a heart of gold and enough compassion to fill the entire state. The world needed more of that.
Rob didn’t, but the world did.
“Six years ago.” Speaking it didn’t do all the things I thought it would, but I knew it was because of who I was speaking with. “I forgot to pick up something up. She asked me to get it at the market when I was getting gas. When I got home and didn’t have it, she dashed out to get the missing ingredient, but she never came back.”
Maya’s hand flew to her mouth as she shook her head and rubbed my back with her free hand. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through.”
“Guilt. Anger. Not in any particular order.” I shook my head, feeling the hollowness of the situation permeate my existence. “If I’d just remembered to pick up what she’d asked me to get, she’d still be here. Rusty survived.”
“Rusty?” Maya asked softly.
“Our first dog together. A beautiful Irish setter. He went with her in the car. The police found him hovering over her. She wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.” I let out a heavy sigh. “He passed away a little over three months ago.”
Maya nodded, rubbing my back. “There are no words.”
I agreed and turned to face Maya. “So, agreeing to be your distraction seemed like a really good idea.”
She cupped my hands in hers. “Do you still feel that way?”
“More than ever, Maya.” I glanced toward the lake. “You’ve been a breath of fresh air.”
And I wanted more than ever to start over. Give her a cute meeting or whatever it was she wanted. Show her that there was another way.
“I knew there was more to you than the average guy, Cash. I just didn’t know it would be born from so much pain.”
“But there’s hope,” he said, smiling. “There’s always hope. That’s what kept Rusty and me alive every day. We woke up and hoped for a better day. I won’t lie. When I lost him, it was hard to keep hold of that hope.”