Page 79 of Hot to Trot

He smiled. "You wouldn't. You're a good person though you sometimes allow people to think the worst of you. Like that little sham with the police chief."

She flinched. "What do you mean?"

"Come now, Scarlet. It was evident to everyone in that room he is head over heels for you. To pretend you'd been trying to seduce him was akin to saying the sky is falling. Total falsehood."

She looked up at the cerulean sky. "But the truth is, he hasn't touched me. We've shared one kiss, now two. But that is all. So there was truth in what I said. He's a man of character."

"That may be, but he still wants you."

She sucked in a breath. “Why are you here?"

"Ah, you want to avoid talk of the chief?"

She met his gaze with a hard one of her own. "Not your business, John. Instead, why don't you tell me how it is you're sitting here after a year of silence."

"I've been seeing a good therapist, and she helped me realize I've been grossly unfair to you. I never told you the truth about why I ended our relationship."

"It took a therapist for you to see what a shit you were? Why come all the way to Texas to tell me that?"

His face held no expression, but tenderness crept into his eyes. "Scarlet, your anger is not unexpected. I hurt you, but I want you to know I did it out of love."

"What a bunch of crap. This is a different version of 'It's not you, it's me."'

"No, I loved you. That's no lie. But, eventually I realized I held you back."

Her mouth dropped open. "Seriously? That's your excuse for dumping me after screwing my brains out the night before? You wanted to set me free?"

"Jesus, Scarlet."

"The truth isn't glossy and pretty."

"That's not accurate." He paused a moment. "Or maybe it's only half-accurate."

The silence pressed down on them. "I was sick, and I was scared."

''Sick? What do you mean?"

He sighed and clasped his hands between his open knees. "You remember that night in Central Park? We danced under the trees and talked about going to Italy."

“It was a beautiful night."

“It was,” he agreed with a nod of his head, his gaze on the yellow flowered bush across from them. “The next day I went tothe doctor. I’d been having some pain in my ribs of all things, just nagging but wouldn’t go away. They ran some tests and found a mass. Bone cancer.”

"Oh, my God, John.” She reached for his hand. He allowed her to take it. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t-”

“I intended to.” He gave her a sad look. ”You met me at that coffeehouse, remember?"

How could she forget? She'd been wearing a new sundress, one she'd bought for their planned trip. Later, she'd stripped it off and thrown it into the trashcan. "I remember."

“You were brimming with plans. Hiking in Trentino. Dancing in Rome. You talked nonstop about everything we’d do, everything we’d eat. And I listened to you, watching at how beautiful you were. How young. Too young for an old man with cancer. You deserved better, and I didn’t want you to watch me grow ill from chemo or traipse around Manhattan with a shrunken, bald man."

Anger crept alongside the pity she felt for him. '"You didn’t give me a choice in the matter, did you? You broke things off and-"

“You’re right,” He interrupted her. “I didn't give you that choice. That was wrong.”

"You made me think I was unlovable. That's what you gave me. Not a choice. A death sentence to a woman who thought she was in love for the first time in her life."

"I wanted to save you from pain. From hurt. I thought I was doing something generous by setting you free.”

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