Chapter Twenty-Three
“W e need to talk.”
Anxiety darted through Iris as Scott’s words hit her the second they started back down the beach after a lovely and lively shrimp dinner. Her relaxed mood fled, leaving her instantly on alert. “Okay, talk,” she said, keeping step with him.
Had she done something that bothered him back there?
Had Gray said something?
Did his sister and her husband know about the two of them?
Was he ready to move on?
God, please don’t let him be ready to move on. Anything else she’d handle. Just don’t make it be that. Not yet.
He wasn’t talking. Her cottage was just ahead.
“Scott?”
His hands in his pockets, his gaze was pointed at the girls by the water as they walked. In the dark, with the moonlight their only way to see any small life that the ocean was bringing in, both dogs watched pretty carefully at night.
“I need you to hear me out,” he said.
He was scaring her. The balmy night somehow sent a chill through her. She wrapped her arms around her middle, hiding her hands beneath them. “I’m listening.”
“You told me a while back that me seeing my marriage as only my failure was a biased view on my part. You pointed out facts that lead naturally to a conclusion that while the cause of the divorce was partially on me, it was not solely my fault. And not caused by the single-focused man I am, but by a choice I made. And the choices she made, too.”
This was about him? He was about to tell her she’d been right? Relief flooded her. “That’s right,” she said, fully believing, then and currently, in the deduction.
“You saw what I couldn’t see myself.”
“Yeah.” It was hard to take sometimes, having others see your business better than you did. Because you were blinded by a psyche that had opted to protect you. A concept that would be especially hard to swallow for a man like Scott.
And yet, once she’d seen…she’d been free. Strengthened. Largely because he’d been there, a constant, steady, nonthreatening friend, wanting nothing from her, but that she be around when she could.
Her heart swelled at the thought that she could be the same for him. Give him the same freedom from imprisonment that she’d gained because he’d provided her a safe space to set herself free. She’d always love him for…
Iris’s thoughts froze midstream. Her entire emotional and intellectual system shut down, even while she continued to be mobile. Walking in step with the body beside her.
Noticing the dogs in front of them.
Her cottage. The thought came through. Provided insulation from anything that might try to penetrate.
She glanced over, ready to click her fingers for Angel to follow, but her cottage wasn’t there. They’d passed it by.
On the way to Scott’s.
She didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him.
The word had been a stand in. Part of a trite, horribly overused phrase people used to express liking. Iris loved the boiled shrimp. Gray had loved the fried.
Scott was talking. She tuned in, holding on to his voice to pull herself out of the funk she’d fallen into.
“…in the same vein, I have to say that I see things, too.”
Right, of course he did. They were talking about him. Not her.
She had to stop making everything about her.
When had she started doing that?
“I know.” Relieved to hear her voice sound so normal, Iris continued with “You’re extraordinarily perceptive. Part of the reason you’re so good in the courtroom.” Was he doubting his abilities to see nuances because he’d missed one of his own?
Because he’d been lying to himself.
She could fix that one for him. “I—”
“Let me finish,” Scott cut her off. And then added a very odd sounding “Please. I’m not sure I’ll get this out if I don’t.”
Her heart softened toward him. Feeling him. “Of course.” She kept her tone light. Encouraging. Whatever words she had to offer to help him get through his moment could wait as long as they needed to.
Whatever…anything…he needed, she wanted to give to him.
“These months we’ve been…together…”
Fear struck again as he spoke. He was ending it. Was ready to move on. She wasn’t. The possibility had always been there. That one or the other of them would be first. That they wouldn’t reach that point together…
He glanced her way. She didn’t glance back. Just say it , she implored silently.
“You’ve been so happy, so much stronger, coming out of hiding, as you put it.”
“You’re right. It’s the best.”
“But you aren’t done, Iris.” His speech sped up. “I’ve suspected for a while, but it became obvious to me tonight. Seeing you not only with Leigh, but with Sage and the new baby, too. If you’d seen the longing on your face…you’re meant to be a mother. The instinct is there. The need is there.”
She heard him. Kept walking. Tamped down anger. A lot of it. He had no business… They weren’t… He wasn’t… He had no right…
“And I want it, too.” She took in those words. They made no sense. Scott wanted her to be a mother?
“These last two months, with Sage and Gray married… I’m not Leigh’s father figure anymore, and I finally realized tonight that that’s part of why I’ve been struggling.”
He’d been struggling?
Why hadn’t she known?
She’d thought they were doing great. Other than her bouts of fear, which were just a part of who she’d become after Ivy’s death, she’d never been happier.
Damn him for not being honest. They’d said they be honest.
“The past four years, I thought I was just being a supportive uncle, helping my sister, but I realized now that I was using Leigh as a surrogate for what I wasn’t going to have, a child of my own. Because that’s something I really want.”
“What about all that stuff you said once about living up to your father’s expectations? The example he set? You said you’d never be able to be as hands-on as he was because of the mental focus required by your job…” She was lashing out. Fighting for her life.
“I said I’d never get married again, too.”
Right. That. “I know!” She agreed with him. Getting him back on track.
Until he took a light hold on her arm. Stopped walking. And she stopped, too. Rather than just keep going. Leaving behind what she valued most in her current world.
“I’m not saying that anymore, Iris. I think we should get married. We understand each other. If I’m working too much, you’ll let me know. When you’re struggling, I understand. Maybe with other people, we couldn’t make it work, but together, we can do this.”
He hadn’t mentioned love.
Wouldn’t have mattered if he had, but the lack still held her attention.
“Understanding each other is no reason to get married.”
“Wanting kids is.”
“Sure, but not to each other.”
“We’re great in bed.”
“Again, no reason to marry.” She stood her ground without faltering. Could go on all night with the debate.
“We’re best friends.”
“And we want to stay that way.”
His hands reached up to her face, brushing her hair back on both sides, threading his fingers through some strands as he held her, gazing into her eyes.
His touch was light. She could break away. But didn’t. He had to understand how calmly serious she was, to help him see how ludicrous he was being.
He was letting Sage and Gray get to him. Feeling his sister’s response to them as a couple—were she to figure them out. Every time the four of them were together, the possibility loomed. Tonight’s emotional announcement of a new little girl arriving, coupled with the baby’s moves being detectable for the first time…he was on overload.
He had to be.
He cupped her cheek with his hand, and she leaned into the familiar touch. Savoring it. They both had their moments. What made them good together was how they hung in there for each other until clarity returned.
“I love you, Iris.”
She stepped back. A foot out of reach. Stood there staring at him. Saw him come closer and stepped back again.
“I’m in love with you,” Scott said then, standing firm, tall, his arms at his sides. Emoting the confidence that had drawn her to him in the beginning.
She shook her head. Against the words. Him saying them. What he was doing to them.
“And the thing is, I’m fairly certain that you love me, too.”
The words brought a flash from moments before. Her silent remuneration about loving him for being there for her.
Nausea threatened, her muscles felt weak and Iris took another step back. Shaking her head.
And had to go. Get out.
“I’ve tripped your panic button.” She glanced up at the words. Saw the way he was watching her so intently. Backed up another step.
“I love you, Iris. I know you can feel it. Let me help.”
He wasn’t helping. He was ruining everything.
“If you can’t bring yourself to love me, at least believe that I love you.”
Those last words, the tone, the pained look in his eyes, darted inside the wall of ice encasing her. The barriers that protected her so that she could live a good life.
And she found her voice. “How do you believe in something you don’t believe in? You’re asking the impossible of me.”
The night of Sage’s wedding, he’d stated his truth.
He believed in love.
She didn’t.
There was no way to fix that.
Without a single backward look, Iris called Angel and trod the sand with strong steps, not stopping until she’d reached her cottage.
At which point, shaking…everywhere…she sank to the ground and fell apart.
Her time with Scott was through.
* * *
Scott didn’t follow Iris on Friday night. Nor did he try to contact her over the weekend.
He’d taken a chance. Played his entire hand.
And had read her wrong.
Still, he stood by his decision. As he’d sat on the beach with her and his family Friday night, he’d seen the potential for failure. And had also realized that the bigger failure was in not trying. A lesson Iris had inadvertently taught him.
She’d been right. Failing wasn’t a bad thing. It was to be celebrated because it meant you were trying. You didn’t learn to walk unless you tried again. Not trying…that was the failure he had to avoid.
He’d seen something else, too. That while Iris had taken a huge step over the past few months, and was growing in her newfound freedom, taking up the reins of life again, she was also continuing to hide. She’d acknowledged who she was. Had found a way to bring her past with her as she moved on to new ways to be happy.
But she was still hiding. Refusing to let herself love again. To make the family she’d always envisioned for herself. By going along with their plan to never commit, to never be more, to never let their relationship grow, he’d been helping her to continue to hide from her own heart. Giving her the means to flatline.
Scott was done hiding.
Turned out, his father had been wrong. Failure wasn’t the worst thing. Not trying was.
When Saturday passed with no word from Iris, and no sign of Angel on the beach, and Saturday night came and went with no word from her, he hurt. A lot.
But knew he’d done the right thing.
On Sunday, he went surfing.
On a long enough board to sustain his height. With a thicker tail making it easier for novices to get up on top of a wave. At a spot where beginners learned to surf. He didn’t ask himself to take on anything big. Didn’t swim far out. He just stood and glided.
Because he loved the waves and wanted to be one with them. Because he wanted to learn to surf. Not because he didn’t want to fail.
He’d probably never be a champion. Or even a noteworthy surfer.
But as long as he had the desire to surf, he’d be out there trying. Baby steps one at a time. Like learning to walk.
Toddlers didn’t run marathons. But after innumerable falls on their butts, they learned to stay on their feet. To balance without holding on. To take steps. To walk. And then to run.
Even then, not everyone had the physique, the musculature or the desire to run marathons.
No one could excel at everything.
And failing didn’t make you a failure, either.
Not trying for fear of failure…that was the thing to avoid.
Sitting on the beach Friday night, it had all become clear to him. And with clarity, he’d done what he’d known he had to do.
He’d tried.
He’d lost Iris.
But he’d tried.
Had he not tried, the woman would likely still be sleeping in his bed, but he’d have been losing her at the same time. Even if she’d stayed in his bed for the rest of her days.
She’d quit hiding from her loss. But she was still hiding from the fear of the pain that the loss had caused. And he’d been making it easy for her to continue to do so.
None of which helped ease the incredible ache he felt as he walked Morgan on the beach late Sunday afternoon. He’d never have believed it was possible to miss someone so much.
To feel a grayness inside while standing under pure blue skies with sunshine pouring down all over him.
But there it was.
The result of trying.
And he was still glad he’d done so.