Page 60 of Slow Kind of Love

“No, you didn’t. You wanted to make that decision on your own because I don’t think you trusted yourself to follow through if you gave him the chance to respond. You tell yourself that you did it to protect Link, and I’m sure you did. Of course you don’t want to hurt him. But taking away his right to make his own decision doesn’t seem very fair. You should at least give him the chance to hear your reason, and you definitely should give him the chance to respond.”

Her mouth fell open. “What happened to having my back?”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“But you agreed with me in Crystal Lake.”

“I let you talk in Crystal Lake because you’d just made this big, huge decision that was obviously making you incredibly sad and stressed. I shut my mouth because I thought that was what you needed then. I let you wallow in Crystal Lake. I let you wallow here in Belize. Nothing’s changed. In fact, you’re more miserable now than you were a week ago. So let me ask you again, is there some part of you that regrets not giving him a chance to fight for you guys? And if there is, do you think that regret will ever go away? Or are you going to feel like this for the rest of your life? Because I thought you were done settling for something ordinary and easy. After Ben passed, you said you wanted to spread your wings, and I’m telling you, no man will make you spread your wings like Link. You said you wanted to live life to its fullest, but sweetie, this ain’t living.”

Elise was hurt by her friend’s words. She sat back in her chair and stared straight ahead for so long, her vision blurred. She thought about what Heather had said, and of the pain she’d caused Link. She thought she was being selfless in letting him go, but what if being selfless meant the two of them would only live half a life?

“What am I supposed to do?” she whispered, tasting the salt from her tears.

“Well, I know what I would do.” Heather got up and held out her hand. “I’d let my slightly tipsy but fabulous best friend help me pack, and then I’d let that friend book a ticket to England. And then I’d get on that plane and practice the best apology ever, and I’d find wherever the hell his castle is and I’d go to him. I’d lay my heart down on the table and hope like hell the man I love is willing to pick it up.”

Elise had to be out of her mind to even consider the idea.

“He deserves to know why, Elise, and you deserve to be happy.” Heather was as serious as Elise had ever seen her. “Go to him and fix this.”

One heartbeat passed. And then another. Then, feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience, Elise grabbed Heather’s hand and followed her inside.

Four hours later, she was on mainland Belize, waiting to board her flight to England. Anxious and scared, she fidgeted as the line moved forward, her palms sweaty from nerves. She would apologize to Link for how she’d handled things, and she would tell him why. It might not go well for her. He might not even want to see her, but she knew she had to try. And for the first time in her forty-six years, she finally felt like was living her life.

If anything, she’d have that to keep her regret company.

It was a long twenty-four hours before Elise made it to a very dull and dreary and wet UK. There’d been a layover in Texas and then a straight run across the Atlantic. She’d hired a driver and, exhausted, now stood at the entrance to Grove Manor, almost afraid to knock. She’d known his family was part of the aristocracy and that there was an estate with a big house. She’d joked with him about the castle he’d grown up in, not really believing it to be true.

But this… This was as close to Downton Abbey territory as you could get.

Nervous and knowing she probably looked like hell, Elise squared her shoulders and used the big knocker thingy on the door. When no one answered, she used it again, this time with a bit more force, then stood back, biting her lip as she looked behind her.

She’d sent the car away, which was probably a stupid move, and as the steady fall of rain became sheets that soaked through to the bone, her teeth began to chatter. Close to tears, she took a step back and would have turned around and bolted, except the door flew open and a woman who looked to be in her seventies stood there wearing a curious expression. She motioned for Elise to come inside and shut the door behind her. It was heavy and made a thud that echoed in the great hall.

“You knocked,” the woman said.

“I did,” Elise managed to say.

“No one ever knocks.”

“Oh.”

“There’s a doorbell to your right.”

“Sorry. I didn’t see it.”

“You’re American.”

“Yes.”

“Here to see our Lincoln?”

“I was hoping to, yes,” she whispered, shivering from the rain and the coolness of the house.

“He’s not here,” the woman said, her eyes soft, her voice not unkind.

“Oh.” So disappointed that tears mixed with the drops of rain on her face, Elise fought to keep her knees from buckling. “I sent the driver away. I…”

“Don’t mind that now. We need to get you dry and some hot tea into you before you catch your death of cold. Come with me.”

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