Page 23 of Timeless Valentine

"That's not quite it." The one time I wish traffic was slower, every light is with us until we're pulling up in front of her office before I know it.

"I'm worried that you work way too hard, Grace. I don't think it's healthy for you to burn the candle at both ends for years at a time."

The absolute sorrow in Grace's eyes is like a dagger to my heart. "This is just the way it is in my family," she says quietly. "My mother always had several jobs. I worked part time in high school, babysitting, tutoring, then waitressing. And when Mom started to…go a bit off…" She hesitates. "We found her simpler jobs where she could work on autopilot as long as possible."

"Maybe it's time to break the cycle," I say, reaching for her hand, but she snatches it away.

"Thank you for your help. I appreciate that you want to care for me, but no. That's not me." Her delicate hands ball into fists. "You deserve a girlfriend who has all the time in the world for you. Going out to dinner during the week, going out to shows. Art galleries. Concerts. A real relationship. I can't give you that. You need much more than I can give you, and I can't change."

"I'm not giving up on you." I reach out to trail my fingertips along her wrist. "Sweetheart, I won't give up. I already feel too much for you. I know you feel the same for me. I can't let you go."

Grace shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but I think you're going to have to." Then she grabs her purse and coffee, darts out of the car, and runs into the building.

A sensible person would let it drop and leave her alone, no matter how much it hurt. But I'm not sensible. I am head over heels in love with my beautiful, sweet, brilliant girl. If she needs time and space, she will get it.

Then it clicks.

She already has her time and her space completely in order. Instead of convincing her to relax, I am going to have to adapt, and become part of her schedule, hectic though it may be.

I just have to figure out every single detail in a way that shows her how serious I am.

15

GRACE

Shuffling into the office, the quiet order of things brings me no comfort like it usually does. As I sort the mail, put on the coffee, open the curtains and water the plants, I may as well be a zombie.

Luckily, my bosses are only in and out briefly today, so I have plenty of alone time.

Just past ten, my heart sinks when a huge bouquet of red roses arrives. Then I see that it's for Councilor Richmond to take home to his wife. Luckily the fridge is mostly empty, so I put them inside it with a note, and send him an email.

A package arrives from a jewelry store, which I set square in the middle of Mr. Henderson's desk so that he won't forget to take it home. From the size of the box, I'd bet it's earrings.

Watching these married men give such typical gifts is interesting. Do they know precisely what their wives want? Or do they just get the same thing every year, because she always pretends to be delighted?

Just past eleven, there is a delivery from Maria's Flowers. For me.

It's too small to be a bouquet. I unwrap it, and blink in surprise. It's a simple violet in a bright purple pot, with a card reading "Something to always make sure you have flower shop vibes. Minimal time and care required. Leo." There's a tiny scribbled heart beside his name.

Even though a huge part of me is still angry and hurt and confused, this gesture gives me hope. I happen to know that the violets are on sale this month for just fifteen dollars. So his intent is not to shower me with a lavish gift. And he must have spent some time thinking about what would be the perfect accent to my work desk.

As I place the pot in the corner nearest my desk lamp, I have to admit, he was right.

Just before noon, a lunch delivery arrives for me. Pasta, fresh salad, and sparkling water. Once again, nothing fancy. Simply what I need.

Maybe he really is listening. I'd honestly thought that he'd been trying to change me, and make me into someone different. Is there a chance that he would be all right with my life staying exactly how it is?

As I finish lunch, I check my personal email account. Ian has responded to my request that perhaps he could cover the difference in Mom's increased care bill on his own.

I know the answer before I even open it. "Absolutely not. 50-50, or nothing at all. I have already arranged for my monthly payments to increase, and sent a separate lump sum with the retroactive funds."

I'm not even surprised. I don't normally do personal tasks on company time, but I send the extra payment to Jamison's immediately, reducing my savings account by two thirds in the process.

I've been trying so hard to get a full month's worth of expenses saved, just in case of emergency. Now I'm in a trulyprecarious space. If I twist an ankle or get the flu, I'll be in real trouble.

Every fiber of my being wants to reach out to Leo for comfort. Not to ask for money. I could never do that.

But just to have a shoulder to cry on. To have those strong arms wrap around me. For once, I want someone to tell me in a reassuring tone that everything is going to be all right.

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