12. Robert

Chapter twelve

Robert

My heart thumps as I utter those words. I want to tell Sara everything. She's managed to peel away so much of the falseness I've conjured up over the years.

It's also because this is the first time in who knows how long that I've felt anything real for someone. It's not just shallow emotions. There's something more there, eking out slowly. I can't deny it anymore.

"About eight years ago, I dated a woman. We went on a date, and immediately I fell for her. Her name is Maria."

"Oh yeah. The girl mentioned at dinner."

I nod. "Yes. She and I hit it off so well. Back then, I was just starting my business. She was a model who worked with major companies like Guess and Gucci."

"Wow," Sara mumbles.

"It was an interesting time. I fell for her because of who I thought she was, not because of her job or her looks. She was quite the beauty, but what I learned later was that she didn't care about me the way that I thought she did."

Sara doesn't say a word, allowing me to talk. I look down, remembering the moment I proposed to her.

"I loved her so much that I asked her to marry me. Before this, no other woman ever managed to win over my heart like that. But Maria was someone special."

"Sounds like it."

"I asked her on New Year's Eve, and she said yes immediately. Sure, it had only been six months since we dated, but I knew she was the one for me."

My heart lurches as I remember my foolish actions. It would be my downfall.

"What happened then?"

"The day we were supposed to get married, she left me at the altar."

It still stings remembering that. Walking in, excited to finally tie the knot and start a future and family together, only to find she was nowhere to be found.

"That's terrible," Sara gasps.

"It was. I waited all day. I thought maybe she was running late, but I learned from other family and friends that she wasn't. She just changed her mind, leaving me alone at the altar and never explaining why. It's still hard to talk about."

"You're not over her?"

I purse my lips. I don't know the answer to that question. There's a lot that I still need to sort through.

"In a way I am, but the feelings, I'm not. Since then, I've tried to date again, but it's been no use. After the third failed date, I decided to work on myself and my business. That's how I got to where I am today."

"I see," Sara replies. Her eyes lock onto mine, and she inches a bit closer.

"I haven't had the best outlook on women," I admit. "I think a lot of them are shallow and—"

"So I am?" she asks pointedly.

I shake my head. "No. You're different."

"And how am I different? We've only barely started dating, heck I don't even know if we truly are, but you're saying all of these things that I'm not sure about either."

I hold her hand tightly. She doesn't meet my grasp but instead sits there.

"You're not, Sara. You're different because you seem to care about me more than my money."

"What if I just haven't said it?" she retorts.

That is something I've considered, but I know that's a load of crock, too. I shake my head.

"You wouldn't be here with me if you didn't want to be."

"I mean, sure, but maybe one day I'll ask you to pay for all of my stuff. Maybe I just want to get you to lower your guard down—"

"Stop. Sara! You would've already shown that hand a while ago," I almost shout. "Most girls show it even when they don't mean to."

I remember going on a date with a woman named Nichole. She worked in a similar industry to mine, and we met at a function. I thought there was potential until I heard her mention the money she needed, immediately leveling her gaze toward me.

"I see. Guess you're pretty aware of that."

"I want to believe I am," I reply, looking away. "But there's always a chance that I'll slip up."

"I know. So, I guess my next question is: If you do trust me, why did it take you this long to tell me this?"

I look at her, and for a brief second, I process this. There's a lot that I have the answers to. Maybe this is one where I don't, at least not yet. Maybe it's because of my own hesitation. Or maybe it's because when I tell her, it's acknowledging those personal feelings.

I close my eyes, sighing at the realization.

"Because I've felt a connection with you that I've tried to ignore. Ever since the day we met, it's like I was drawn to you. I know that's no excuse, but accepting these feelings has made talking about this easier."

She nods but doesn't smile.

"And am I the same as them?"

"No, you're not," I reply, turning to her. "You mean a lot to me, Sara."

"Prove it then."

I look at her, confused by what she means. Does she want me to kiss her?

"You mean . . . kiss you?"

"I mean, it's whatever you think. I just don't know whether or not I'm different from these gals, at least in your eyes."

I grab her hands and hold them. My lips hover inches from hers.

I want to kiss her. I know that if we close this gap, there's a chance that we could be something more.

"Sara, I'm—"

A screech of pain echoes from my left. Sara jolts back, jumping off the rock.

"What's that?"

"I don't know—"

The creature cries out again.

"Where are you going?"

She turns, her eyes wide as a frown of worry crosses her face.

"I need to see where that's coming from! It sounds like an animal that's hurt or in danger."

She runs down the beach, and I follow on instinct. I've never seen Sara that passionate. She had mentioned something about doing something she loves.

Could it be taking care of animals?

As I follow her along the shore, the waves touch my feet, and I move out of the water so I don't sink in. Sara gets to the perimeter of the beach, right near the border of my place and the resort. She approaches, seeing a bird flopping around in the water and crying out.

It's a beautiful white-tailed tropic bird. She rushes to its side, grabbing it and bringing it to the shore, away from the water, so it doesn't drown in the waves.

She hovers over it, pressing two fingers to its neck.

"It's got a pulse. Let's see where you're hurt—"

She grabs the wing, and the bird screeches out.

"Darn, its wing's broken, and it won't be able to fly until it's healed."

"Sara, maybe she should . . . ."

Her gaze meets mine, eyes wide with passion.

"No, we need to help this animal now! I'm not leaving until it's at least taped up and safe."

I realize that she is totally focused on this small bird's needs. This kindness and fervor to help is another side of Sara I haven't seen before, and is one that entrances me.