‘The accident wasn’t your fault, Roland.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘And I keep telling myself that, even if I had been in London, the accident might still have happened. But at least then I would have been there to say goodbye to her before she died, instead of being thousands of miles away.’
‘I’m sure Lyn knew that you loved her.’
He nodded. ‘And I did, even though our marriage was cracking at the seams. But the very worst bit was what the doctor told me, something I couldn’t bear to tell anyone because it was just so...’ He caught his breath.
She squeezed his hand. ‘Roland, you don’t have to talk about this. And it’s understandable that you’re still in love with Lyn.’
‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘I miss her. But I missed her for a year before she died. I missed the closeness of being with someone. And it’s taken me a while to work through all the guilt and misery I’ve been feeling. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be ready to put my life back together again, but...’ He drew her hand up to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers. ‘I’ve worked out for myself that the only way to finally get past the pain and heal again is to talk about it. I don’t want to have any secrets from you, Grace.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, and her heart bled for him. He’d been through so much. ‘I haven’t been able to say this to anyone, because—well, I know what Lyn meant about not being able to face all the pity. I’ve been there. But I know you won’t pity me.’
‘I won’t pity you,’ she promised. ‘But I do reserve the right to give you a hug.’
‘OK.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘Lyn was pregnant when she died. It was so early on that she probably didn’t even know. But how different things might’ve been,’ he finished wistfully.
Roland would’ve been a father and Lyn would’ve had the baby she’d longed for so badly. And his marriage might have healed. But the driver who’d crashed into Lyn had taken away all those possibilities. No wonder Roland had locked himself away. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, still holding his hand.
‘And that’s partly why I haven’t really dated since she died. Part of me wants to move on, because I can’t spend the rest of my life in mourning. The Lyn I married wouldn’t have wanted me to do that—just as I wouldn’t have wanted her to be on her own if I’d been the one who was killed and she was the one left behind,’ he said. ‘But it went sour for us because she wanted a family so desperately. And that’s what’s stopped me moving on. I don’t want to go through that again, to lose the woman I love a little more each day and know I can’t do anything to help.’
‘I can understand that,’ Grace said.
‘But then I realised something,’ he said. ‘These last few days I’ve been running away again, burying myself in work so I didn’t have to think or face things—but I’m ready to face them now.’
‘Face what?’ she asked.
‘The fact that...’ He took a deep breath. ‘I love you, Grace. And I want to be with you. And I should’ve told you that as soon as we got back from Venice, instead of letting you come back here on your own.’
‘I don’t get it,’ she said.
‘You don’t believe I love you?’
‘I don’t get why you’re saying this to me now. Nothing’s changed since we came back from Venice.’
‘Oh, but it has,’ he corrected. ‘I’ve had time to think. Time to miss you. And what finally made me realise was when I found the paperweight—and you thanked me for sweeping you off your feet.’
So did that mean...? The hope she’d ruthlessly squashed earlier flickered back into life.
‘And I think you swept me off my feet, too,’ he said. ‘In just over two weeks, you taught me to have fun again. You taught me how to reconnect.’
‘But I didn’t really do anything,’ she said. ‘You’re the one who did all the big romantic stuff and took me to places I’d always wanted to see. I don’t even know what your dreams are, so I couldn’t even begin to start making any of them come true.’
‘I didn’t know what my dreams were, either, but I do now,’ he said. ‘I want to live, really live, with the woman I love. A woman who’s brave and funny and sweet.’
He couldn’t possibly be describing her. ‘But I’m not brave. Or funny. I’m just ordinary.’