Page 145 of How to Walk Away

He settled his eyes square on mine. “I didn’t not care about you.” He leaned closer. “I cared about you.” Then he added, “Too much.”

“Can you care about a person too much?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

I studied his face. What was he saying? “Maybe you’re lying now.”

But he shook his head and picked up one of my hands and pressed it to his heart. It pounded in his chest. “I’m not lying now,” he said.

That was a heck of a confession. “Why did you lie before?”

“Because I thought it was better for you.”

“Why? Why would it be better for you to break my heart?”

He frowned and leaned closer. “Did I?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think that would happen.”

“Because you thought I didn’t really like you?”

Ian nodded. “I thought it was just the aftereffects of the trauma.”

“Well, guess what? It wasn’t.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor, really. I thought I was the only one who would suffer.”

I had to ask. “Why would you suffer?”

He held my gaze. “Because I didn’t want to be without you.”

I kept not breathing.

This didn’t seem like it could possibly be happening—me in Kit’s red dress, talking to Ian, in a tux, on his knees, holding my hand against his beating heart. And yet there was no denying the boat, the water, breeze, the churn of the current.

We motored under a stone bridge, lit underneath by hanging lanterns, but I barely noticed. Until I heard my name, just as the bridge passed overhead.

“Margaret!” The voice sounded very close.

I looked up.

“Margaret!”

Hands waving on top of the bridge. Two sets of hands.

“Margaret!”

It was my parents. Together, side by side, standing on the bridge at the top of the arch.

“Why aren’t you at the reception!” I called up to them.

“We decided to ditch!”

“Did anyone think to tell me that?”

“Couldn’t find you!”

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