Page 31 of Never Leave Me
She was still reclining in her seat, her head back and eyes closed. She hadn’t smiled once all day.
He knew her heart was heavy over Josie’s dire prognosis. Ellen had been in communication with Serenity House staff and Josie’s parents periodically. While the little girl was still hanging on to life, her connection was tenuous, and the doctors wanted to move her to palliative care.
Yet, the gulf existing between him and Ellen stemmed from more than just her worry and grief. He returned his attention to the darkness of the runway out the window and loathed the awkwardness.
It was his fault. He’d read more into their kisses and their time together than he should have. She’d only been swept up in the moment and had never made him any promises.
Even so, he couldn’t understand how she could walk away from their kisses unscathed. Every time he’d touched or kissed her, he’d been seared all the way to his soul. His passion for her had moved from sparks to a blazing fire, and there was no turning back now. He couldn’t extinguish the flames—didn’t want to.
But she clearly didn’t feel the same way. And he supposed that’s what hurt most of all. Although he hadn’t realized his desire when planning the trip, he could see now that he’d been hoping during their time together she’d see him in a new light, that her feelings for him might awaken, and maybe she’d even fall a little bit in love with him.
Yet, she’d lived for so many years in death’s grip, she wouldn’t be able to shake off her fears in one weekend.
The plane door began to open, sweeping in the chill of the night, so different from the balmy warmth of the Caribbean.
Ellen sat forward and shuddered, hugging her arms across her chest.
“Here.” Harrison shrugged out of his suit coat and draped it over her shoulders. He should have thought about her need sooner. After the tropical temperatures, the UK in May no longer seemed quite as warm as it had when they’d left.
She didn’t resist but instead wrapped his coat tighter. “Thank you.”
With a nod, he sat back, once again hating the stilted conversation and long stretches of silence. Maybe this morning after that kiss in the hallway, he should have played along with her just as he always had. Maybe he shouldn’t have confronted her and demanded answers. Maybe he should have kept his true feelings securely locked away.
Was it too late to go back before that discussion and attempt to restore their relationship to what it had been previously? He’d rather have something with her than nothing at all. If he couldn’t have the feast, he’d settle for crumbs, even though such an attitude was completely pathetic.
The stairs would be down in a few minutes, and the pilot would be out to help them with their luggage. He had to have a quick word or do something soon. If he didn’t, he suspected Ellen would leave Chesterfield Park just as rapidly as she could make the arrangements. Then when would he see her again? Especially now that she didn’t need him?
Swallowing his dignity, he shifted forward on the seat. She was looking out the window, and her profile was as lovely as always and reminded him of that morning and the way she’d lifted her face to his, wrapped her arms around his neck, and brushed her lips across his. He hadn’t mistaken the desire in her eyes, had he?
“Ellen?”
She turned her gaze away from the window and faced him with worried eyes.
With everything going on with Josie, now probably wasn’t the best time to talk about their relationship. But he had to say something. “Look, love. Can we forget about what happened and go back to being friends?”
“I don’t know. Can we?” Even though she included them both, her raised brow meant the question was for him. Could he be satisfied with only being friends?
The same lump of protest that had arisen earlier formed again. During all the so-called playacting around the other guests, she may have pretended. But he’d done the opposite. He’d dropped his pretenses. For the first time, he’d been real about how he felt. Could he go back? Could he pretend again that what he felt about her didn’t matter? Pretend he was indifferent? Pretend he didn’t want more?
He nodded. Yes, he could. And yes, he would.
He’d had the plane ride to think on it. In fact, thoughts had plagued him while he’d been sleeping. Even if he could wait and give her more time to overcome her fears, he suspected she would be better off with a younger man, someone closer in age who could give her a family to replace the one she’d lost.
Obviously, now that he was no longer paralyzed, he had a higher likelihood of being able to have children. But he wasn’t keen on being an older dad. His mother had been forty-two when she’d gotten pregnant with him. His father had been fifty. While he’d never doubted their love, he’d hated that they’d been more like grandparents than parents. And he’d had so little time with them before they’d passed away.
He didn’t want to do that to any children, put them through the anguish he’d experienced, and abandon them when they most needed him. The best way to avoid that was not to have children.
On the other hand, Ellen deserved to have many of them. She was young enough to enjoy them for years to come. And she needed to have a husband young enough to enjoy them with her.
The stark reality was that he wasn’t suited for her—beyond friendship, that is. He’d do best to remember it, or he’d only end up alienating her altogether, if he hadn’t already.
He reached across the span of seat separating them and circled her hand with his. The contact sparked desire inside him, but he rapidly doused it with the reality that he could lose her if he didn’t close off that part of him. He’d had plenty of practice holding it at bay before. He could surely do it again.
“Look, we’ve no need to change the previous nature of our relationship.” He forced out the words he knew she wanted to hear. “After much time thinking about it today, I’ve come to the conclusion that friendship is in our best interest.”
She nodded and expelled what could only be described as a relieved breath. Had she been worried about losing him too? Or was she happy to discover he wasn’t planning to demand more from their relationship?
The same frustration he’d felt that morning surfaced again, but he rapidly stuffed it down.
