She hadn’t bothered to turn on a light, so the darkness of her bedroom closed around her as she lay huddled in a position of abject misery. It was so utterly ironic, she thought bleakly. Derek had tried to convince her that she was in love with him. Little did he know that she needed no convincing. She knew full well that she loved Derek Anderson. Blindly, desperately, hopelessly, eternally. She’d never loved like this before, she’d never love like this again.
And he had said he loved her, too. She should be deliriously happy. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to die.
“Summer?” Connie cracked open the door and peeked inside when Summer did not respond to a light knock. “Why are you lying here in the dark with all your clothes on? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Summer answered in a voice so thick with tears that it was obvious she was lying. “Everything.”
Connie promptly walked inside, crossing the room to sit on the bed beside her unhappy roommate. “Do you want to talk about it? We’re friends, Summer. We should be able to share the bad times as well as the good.”
Summer mopped at her face with one hand, sorely tempted to p
our the whole story into Connie’s shoulder. But maybe Connie wouldn’t want to hear her roommate’s problems, she thought. After all, Connie probably had problems of her own. For the first time in her life Summer understood that, with all the friends she had attracted over the years with her playful, carefree humor, there had never been anyone she could cry with. Derek had forced her to admit that earlier; now she realized that it was really true.
“Summer, honey, what is it?” Connie had never seen Summer cry, just as she had never allowed herself to shed tears in front of her roommate. But, rather than being uncomfortable or impatient, as Summer might have feared, Connie reacted as a true friend, with a sympathetic desire to help. She reached out and touched Summer’s shoulder. “Talk to me, Summer.”
Without further hesitation Summer sat up and threw her arms around her friend—her real friend. “Oh, Connie, I do want to talk about it,” she moaned, the tears flowing freely.
“It’s about Derek, isn’t it? Believe me, I know how much his continuous criticism can hurt. I’ve come home and cried more than once. What did the creep say to hurt you?” Connie’s voice had become more heated with each word.
Summer shook her head and swallowed a sob. “No, Connie, it wasn’t that. He didn’t criticize me.”
Connie went still. “Oh, no.” She gasped. “He didn’t—Summer, did he—”
Realizing the direction of Connie’s thoughts, Summer sat up straight in indignation. “Connie, he didn’t hurt my physically, if that’s what you’re thinking. My God, he’s your brother. You surely know him better than that.”
Connie went limp with relief. “I thought I did,” she admitted. “But where you’re concerned, I don’t know him at all. He’s different with you.”
The sob escaped. “I know,” Summer whispered, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, Connie, what am I going to do?”
“You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?” Connie asked in surprise. “You’ve actually fallen in love with Derek.”
“Yes,” Summer whispered. “Are you very much surprised?”
“Maybe a little,” Connie admitted with a short laugh. “I mean, you and Derek… Still, I’ve watched you with him. I’ve seen the way you treated other men during the time you and I have known each other. You wouldn’t have let any of them boss you around like Derek does. And there was something in your eyes when you looked at him at his party last night, and again this morning when he came for you. It’s in his eyes, too, you know.”
“I know,” Summer murmured.
“But if you’re in love with him, I can see why you’re so unhappy. I guess I’ve started to see that Derek’s not quite the boring tyrant I’ve built him up to be during the past few months, but I don’t know if he’s capable of really loving a woman the way you’d want to be loved. He’d have to admit that he’s as human as anyone else.”
“Connie, he told me tonight that he loves me,” Summer blurted out bravely.
Connie gazed wide-eyed at her friend. “He did?”
“Yes, he did.”
“How? I mean, was he passionate and romantic and the whole bit?”
Summer chuckled despite her pain. “He was marvelous, Connie. Passionate and romantic and the whole bit.”
“Wow.” Connie shook her head in pleased amazement. “I knew you were good for him. So what’s the problem? Why the tears?”
“That’s why,” Summer wailed. “He can’t really be in love with me.”
“Come on, Summer, Derek’s not the type to lie to you just to get you into bed. One thing about my brother, he’s honest. Too honest sometimes,” she added with a wince. “If he says something, he means it.”
“I know he thinks he’s in love with me. He certainly wasn’t telling me just to get me into bed. I was already there.” Summer sighed. Rushing on when Connie lifted an eyebrow in interest, she continued, “I think he’s been carried away with physical attraction, Connie. He’s convinced himself that he’s in love because it happened so fast and so intensely and he doesn’t know how else to explain it. He’s not giving himself enough time to be objective and look at the reasons why it just couldn’t work.”
“Summer, forgive me, but that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Connie said bluntly. “You act like he’s an infatuated schoolboy. The man’s pushing forty, Summer, and he has certainly had his share of women. I don’t mean to offend you, my friend, but it’s not like you’re the type of woman who’d drive a man senseless with lust. You’re cute and everything, but we’re not talking Miss Universe here.”