MARCUS

I flatten my back against the wall beside the door just as it opens and Cara enters the bedroom.

It now occurs to me that I have no business being inside her room, and she may understandably be alarmed at finding me here. Still, I can't explain what prompts me to do what I did next.

Cara senses my presence, and before she could scream, I grab her from behind and put a hand over her mouth.

I should have expected it, but the jolt of emotion that went through me as I held her in my arms surprised me. The familiar scent of honeysuckle and lilies from her cologne brought back memories I tried so hard to forget.

Her scream is muffled by my hand. I tighten my arm around her as she struggles to get free.

"Shhh, it's me," I say, my voice low.

She must recognize my voice because her body stiffens. I relax, but just as I'm about to let go of her, she slams an elbow into my ribs.

"Ow!" I cry out, staggering backward. Fuck, that hurts.

Cara whips around to face me, her eyes blazing with annoyance. "What the fuck are you doing?" she yells.

"Will you be quiet, please?" I straighten, my hand still on the sore spot on my torso where she hit me. "Or do you want Armin to know we're here?"

"Why are you here?"

I raise an eyebrow. "I should be asking you that question."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Armin invited me."

"Really."

Chin raised defiantly, as though daring me to challenge her right to be here, she replies, "Yes, really. We're very close."

I lower my gaze to my grandmother's engagement ring in Cara's hand. "Apparently."

Her smile is cold. "You got a problem with that?"

"My ex girlfriend engaged to my grandfather?" I slump down on a chair wearily. "Why would that bother me?"

She chews her lower lip before catching herself. It's a nervous tic she has, biting her lip. I noticed a long time ago that she would do it when she was anxious or worried. It takes me a moment to realize I've been staring at her mouth, and I quickly turned my focus on her eyes.

"Have you told anyone?" she says. "About us?"

"I promised you I wouldn't, didn't I?"

"Oh. Good." She smiles. "Did you sneak in here to congratulate me?"

"Come on, Cara, you're not engaged to my grandfather."

She raises her hand to show the back of her fingers, flashing the ruby and diamond ring at me. "Hello?"

"He's up to something. What is it?"

Her smile falters for a second, only a second, but I catch it. "What ... Why would you think that?"

"Because my grandfather doesn't date women a third of his age. There has to be another reason he brought you here."

"Is it so implausible for someone like Armin to fall madly in love with me?"

Her tone is light, teasing, but I can see the hurt in her eyes, as much as she tries to hide it.

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Is that why you're here?" She moves toward the window and looks outside. If I remember correctly, this room has a lovely view of the gardens. "To tell me that I'd never be accepted into your family?"

"If you knew my grandfather as well as you say you do, you'd know he could do anything he wanted. It doesn't matter whether we accept it or not."

She turns around and leans her back against the window sill. Her demeanor is almost flirtatious now, and I wonder if she's feeling more relaxed that she successfully diverted the topic of conversation away from my suspicions about Armin.

"Then I guess I don't have anything to worry about," she says.

We study each other in silence for a long moment. In the months that I've known Cara, I never had to second guess her motives. She was always honest and upfront about what she wanted from me — and from anyone, for that matter. It was something I couldn't expect from anyone else in my life, apart from my best friend. Every day at work, I have to question everyone's motives and intentions. With Cara, I never needed to do that, never needed to have my guard up. If I wanted to ask her something, there was no need to crouch it in diplomacy or subtext.

The woman standing in front of me was an entirely different creature. And it wasn't just the dress she wore — a Lora Piana silk that I'm almost sure costs more than her month's salary — or the way she wore her makeup differently from usual — heavier on the eyes and dark red on the lips. Everything was designed to be noticed. Which is odd for a woman who never cared for attention, either from men or other women.

No, it isn't just all that. There's something about her demeanor that's different. It's like she's anxious about something and is trying to conceal it. The Cara I knew was carefree. Her job as a nurse, mostly to elderly patients, exposed her to so much sadness and heartache that everything else in life seemed trivial in comparison.

"How are you, Cara?" I ask.

The question throws her off guard. For a second, she just stares at me, confused. "I'm fine," she says finally. "You?"

I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, linking my fingers together. "I'm good. I just didn't expect to see you here. You could have given me a little heads up."

"I forgot how much you hate surprises. Sorry. I should have called you."

"Did you just not want to talk to me?"

"Marcus, it's fine. I'm over ..." She waves a hand in the air. "... whatever it was we had."

This time I know she isn't lying. I expected nothing less, honestly. She made it clear from the beginning that she had no intention of getting into anything serious with me. We lived in separate states, and neither of us entertained the idea of moving.

I may have thought about it. Once or twice. Not seriously, just speculatively. What it would be like to leave Boston and move to New Jersey. The idea was so farfetched and ridiculous that it intrigued me. What was so bad about it, really? If it meant being with Cara, anywhere in the world could feel like home.

I regret never telling her this.

Maybe as much as I regret how things ended between us. Or that they even ended at all.

"I know," I say. "I just wanted to be sure."

"Will you be happy for me, at least?"

She's lying again. Nothing about her supposed relationship with Armin makes sense.

"Sure." I get up from the chair and make my way to her. She looks up at me, her expression still relaxed but defiant. As though our physical proximity doesn't bother her.

It bothers me more than I'm willing to admit.

"For now," I add.

Her expression turns hard. "In that case, you can leave."

"Cara ..."

"Out. Now."

We stare at each other. Regret pulls at my heart and I allow myself a second to linger in the past. To a time when Cara Berano would have asked me to stay. When I would have pulled her into my arms, both of us forgetting the rest of the world for the next several hours.

Memories, sadly, give no measure of comfort or hope. Not when the eyes that once looked on me with guileless affection are now cold and unyielding.

Because no matter what they tell you, in business as in love, there are just some mistakes you can never fix.

"This isn't over," I say calmly. "I'll find out what you're up to. You know I will."

With that, I turn and walk out of the room.

She doesn't reply.

***

MARCUS

Heart beating rapidly, I shut the door as quietly as I can.

I'd just threatened her. What the hell was I thinking.

Perhaps it's a natural instinct. When you're faced with someone acting out of the ordinary, your impulse is to act out of character too.

"Marcus?"

Dread fills me as I turn toward the voice.

Sevel stands at the end of the hallway with a shit-eating grin on his face. He's about to approach, so I hurriedly move to meet him before he gets any closer. I don't want him anywhere near Cara.

"Did you find your room?" I ask. I meant to speak to Fiona's husband about financial matters, just as she asked me to, but I did not want him or anyone seeing me leave Cara's room.

"Yeah. I was just looking for Cody." His gaze strays to the door I just walked out of. "That's Cara's room, isn't it?"

I force down the wave of anger at his knowing smirk. "It is," I say cooly. "I thought I'd check to see if she had everything she needed."

Sevel raises his hands defensively. "Whoa, buddy. No need to explain. I'm sure Armin appreciates you taking care of ... her needs." Laughing, he slaps me on the shoulder. "Not that I'd tell him, of course. Your secret's safe with me."

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