Chapter 24

Liza hadn't expected Wade to show up again so soon after their morning outing.

When she'd dropped him at the office earlier he'd been withdrawn, and while he'd mustered a genuine goodbye for Cindy he'd shot her the oddest look: like he was disappointed in her.

She knew why. She'd been uncomfortable discussing her parents and how she supported Cindy, and he'd picked up on her evasiveness. If he only knew how far she'd come in letting him spend time with Cindy today, and lowering her guard in front of him. That had been a big step for her. Huge. But she couldn't blab all her deep, dark secrets at once. She had to take this slow.

To find him waiting for her in the living room while Shar and Cindy had a late supper on the back porch made her incredibly happy that he couldn't bear to be away from her for more than half a day. Though her cautious side couldn't be ignored and she wondered if his impromptu visit heralded bad news.

‘Would you like a drink?'

He shook his head. ‘No thanks, I'd rather talk.'

‘Okay.'

She perched next to him on the sofa, wondering if he noticed the threadbare patches on the shabby chintz. Those patches made her angry. She'd scrimped and saved, hoarding every cent away for Cindy's future, going without stuff like new furniture because she didn't deem it as important as having a failsafe should anything happen to her.

Instead, something had happened to her money and while the advance and royalties would help, the thought of being conned out of her sizeable savings made her stomach gripe.

‘Are you all right?'

‘Yeah, why?' She met his gaze, knowing he was far too astute not to notice her jumpiness.

‘You seem distracted.'

She tapped her temple. ‘I'm making a mental to-do list for tomorrow and it's a doozy.'

He nodded, his grave expression indicating he didn't buy her excuse for a second. ‘I've got news.'

Trepidation made her freeze as various scenarios, each of them worse than the last, filtered through her brain. Pre-orders had fallen through. Bookstores had reneged on stocking her biography. Online advertisers had pulled their backing. Early reviews had been appalling.

Quelling her nerves with effort, she said, ‘What's the news?'

He eyeballed her and she didn't like the wariness she glimpsed.

‘With Qu Publishing in the black, I'm going back to London.'

The blood drained from her head and spots danced before Liza's eyes before she blinked, inhaled, steadied.

‘My business is there and I've been away long enough.'

‘Of course,' she said, grateful her tone remained neutral and modulated, when she felt like screaming.

‘I want you to come with me.' He took her hand, rubbed its iciness between his. ‘You and Cindy.'

Shock tore through every preconception Liza had ever had about this guy. He was returning to his life and he wanted her and Cindy to be a part of it?

If she didn't love him before, she sure as hell did now.

Love?

Uh-oh. A fine time to realise she loved Wade when she was on the verge of hyperventilating, collapsing, or both.

What could she say?

A thousand responses sprang to her lips, none of them appropriate. She couldn't uproot Cindy. Couldn't lose Shar. Couldn't do any of this without the stability she'd worked so damn hard to maintain.

It had been her priority when her folks, particularly her mum, left. Trying to maintain normality. Pretend everything was okay. That the two of them would be fine.

To tear that all away from Cindy on a whim to follow her heart?

She couldn't do it.

Had Wade really thought this through? Had he considered what it would be like living with her and her sister? His place would need to be remodelled and that was only one of the many changes he'd have to cope with.

What if he grew tired of it? What if he couldn't handle having Cindy full time? What if Cindy grew to love him as much as she did and then he ended it? The emotional fallout from something so major would definitely have a detrimental effect on Cindy physically.

No, one Lithgow sister having her heart broken was enough. She'd vowed to protect Cindy and, sadly, that meant giving up her one shot at happiness.

‘Your silence is scaring me,' he said, continuing to chafe her hand in his, but no amount of rubbing could stem the iciness trickling through her veins and chilling every extremity.

‘I think you're incredible for asking us to come with you, Wade, but we can't.'

His hands stilled. ‘Can't or won't?'

‘Both,' she said, wondering if that was the first impulsively honest thing she'd ever told him.

She'd spent a decade carefully weighing her words, saying the right thing, doing the right thing, yet now, when it would pay to be circumspect, a plethora of words bubbled up from deep within and threatened to spill out.

‘The fact you care enough to include Cindy in your offer means more to me than you'll ever know, but I can't uproot her.'

She gestured to the backyard where the sound of voices and laughter drifted inside. ‘She's comfortable here, she's safe. It's the only home she's ever known and I can't move her halfway across the world.'

He willed her to look at him, his gaze boring into her, but she determinedly stared at their joined hands.

‘She'll have the best of carers and medical professionals. I can afford it—'

‘No.' The vehement refusal sounded like a gunshot. Short. Sharp. Ominous. ‘I've always taken care of her and I'll continue to do so.'

He released her hand and eased away as if she'd slapped him. ‘Is it so hard to accept help? Or are you too used to playing the martyr you'd do anything to continue the role? And shouldn't Cindy get a say in this? In how she wants to live her life?'

His harsh accusation hung in the growing silence while a lump of hurt and anger and regret welled in her chest until she could hardly breathe.

He swiped a hand across his face. ‘Sorry, that was way out of line. But you need to realise you have a life too—'

‘My life is here, right where I want to be,' she said, finally raising her eyes to meet his, seeing the precise second he registered her bleakness. ‘Cindy is all I have and I'm not going to abandon her.'

‘But you won't be.' He tried to reach for her and she wriggled back. ‘You're not your folks, Liza, you're so much better than them. But the strain of bearing a constant load will eventually tell. It's not healthy shouldering everything by yourself.'

He tapped his chest. ‘Let me in. I'll be here for you. Always.'

That sounded awfully like forever to Liza and it only added to her grief. She'd be walking away from the best man she'd ever met.

But she didn't hesitate, not for a second. Wade was right about one thing. She wasn't her folks and there was nothing he could do or say that would make her put her needs ahead of her sister's.

She shook her head, unable to stop the tears spilling from her eyes. ‘I can't. Sorry.'

And then she ran. Ran from the house, ran from the man she loved, ran from a bright future. Ran until her lungs seized and her legs buckled. Even then, she kept pushing, jogging four blocks before she registered the car cruising beside her.

When she finally couldn't take another step from sheer exhaustion, she stopped, braced her hands on her thighs, and bent over to inhale lungfuls of air. It didn't ease the pain tightening her chest in a vice.

She ignored the car idling on the kerb, ignored the electronic glide of a window sliding down.

‘Get in,' Wade said. ‘I'll take you home.'

Liza shook her head, willing the strength to return to her legs so she could make another dash for it. She needed to escape Wade and his kindness, not be confined in his car.

‘I'm not leaving until you do.'

She lifted her head, mustering a glare that fell short considering sweat dripped in her eyes and her hair stuck to her forehead in lank strands.

Then she glimpsed the devastation clouding his eyes and something inside her broke.

How could she treat this amazingly beautiful man so badly?

He didn't deserve this. He deserved a friendly parting, a thank you for giving her a job and a lifeline at a time she needed it most.

So she sucked in her bruised pride and hobbled toward the car, feeling as if a baseball bat had battered her as she sank onto the plush leather seat.

He didn't speak, intuitive to her needs until the very end, and it only served to increase her respect, love, and gratitude.

When Wade pulled up outside her house, she mustered what was left of her minimal dignity.

‘Thanks for everything.' Her breath hitched and she continued on a sob. ‘I'll never forget you.'

She fumbled with the door handle, tumbled out of the car, and bolted without looking back.

This time, he didn't come after her.