night.
Cocoa greeted them both as if she hadn’t seen them for years.
Afterward Brent found a griddle in one of the cupboards and then started coffee brewing. Silently Amira took a large bowl from a cabinet and began to mix the pancake batter.
Once he’d poured the water into the coffeemaker, he leaned against the counter, deciding to take the bull by the horns. “You asked me last night if I’d ever had a serious relationship.”
She stopped stirring.
“When I was twenty-one I was engaged. Her name was Rhonda.”
Amira lifted her eyes to his. “What happened?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he began, “I wish I could tell you we had an argument and went our separate ways. That would have been easier than what happened.” He thought about his life a few years ago. “I met Rhonda at a party. I went to a lot of them back then. I was a bachelor looking for a good time, earning a master’s degree in finance. Rhonda was in an undergraduate program in the same field so we had a lot to talk about. She was one of those women who never ran out of things to say or suggestions for fun things to do. We had a fast life. I worked at my business during the day, earned my master’s at night. She was in her senior year, determined to become an investment banker.”
“It sounds as if the two of you fitted together well,” Amira said quietly.
“I thought we did. But she didn’t tell me something very important about herself, and I still can’t decide if that was my fault or hers. She had diabetes and she wasn’t taking good care of herself. I didn’t know that. I thought she was losing weight because she wanted to be model thin. I didn’t realize she sometimes skipped her insulin or didn’t eat when she should have. And when I found out, it was too late.”
“She became ill?”
He pushed away from the counter and jammed his hands into his pockets. “She passed out in class one day and slipped into a coma. I sat by her bed with her parents for two days, praying and hoping. But her kidneys failed and she died.”
“Oh, Brent.”
“I felt responsible, Amira. Why wasn’t I the type of man she could confide in? Why hadn’t I seen what was happening to her? Why hadn’t I questioned her more thoroughly about the weight loss? Why didn’t I see something was wrong with her?”
Amira took a few steps closer to him. “Did you ever consider that maybe she didn’t want you to see?”
“Why not?”
Her violet eyes were wide and steady and compassionate. “For the same reason that you wouldn’t admit your shoulder hurt. Why did you have to carry both grocery bags in here today? Why couldn’t you let me bring one of them in?”
“I didn’t want you to think—”
“That you weren’t strong? That you were taking too long to heal? That I’d think less of you if I had to help?”
He’d never talked about this with anyone. His dad and Shane knew what had happened, of course, but he’d never discussed it with them. He’d never told them how devastated he’d felt or how guilty. Now Amira was making him take another look at all of it. “Women don’t have an image or ego to protect,” he protested.
“Don’t they? Oh, Brent. She probably wanted to keep up with you in every way. She wanted to look good for you. She wanted to be what you wanted her to be.”
“Then it was my fault.”
Shaking her head emphatically, Amira protested, “No, it wasn’t your fault. Even in Penwyck, girls see magazines, read articles about what men supposedly want. They make themselves into a package. It’s onlywhen a woman really trusts a man, deep in her soul, that she can leave off the makeup, dress in sweats and not brush her hair.”
If only he could believe that. If only…“We dated for a year. We were going to get married. She should have trusted me.”
“Did you trust her?”
He thought about that. He’d been building his empire, wheeling and dealing. He and Rhonda had talked about finance, but he’d
Cocoa greeted them both as if she hadn’t seen them for years.
Afterward Brent found a griddle in one of the cupboards and then started coffee brewing. Silently Amira took a large bowl from a cabinet and began to mix the pancake batter.
Once he’d poured the water into the coffeemaker, he leaned against the counter, deciding to take the bull by the horns. “You asked me last night if I’d ever had a serious relationship.”
She stopped stirring.
“When I was twenty-one I was engaged. Her name was Rhonda.”
Amira lifted her eyes to his. “What happened?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he began, “I wish I could tell you we had an argument and went our separate ways. That would have been easier than what happened.” He thought about his life a few years ago. “I met Rhonda at a party. I went to a lot of them back then. I was a bachelor looking for a good time, earning a master’s degree in finance. Rhonda was in an undergraduate program in the same field so we had a lot to talk about. She was one of those women who never ran out of things to say or suggestions for fun things to do. We had a fast life. I worked at my business during the day, earned my master’s at night. She was in her senior year, determined to become an investment banker.”
“It sounds as if the two of you fitted together well,” Amira said quietly.
“I thought we did. But she didn’t tell me something very important about herself, and I still can’t decide if that was my fault or hers. She had diabetes and she wasn’t taking good care of herself. I didn’t know that. I thought she was losing weight because she wanted to be model thin. I didn’t realize she sometimes skipped her insulin or didn’t eat when she should have. And when I found out, it was too late.”
“She became ill?”
He pushed away from the counter and jammed his hands into his pockets. “She passed out in class one day and slipped into a coma. I sat by her bed with her parents for two days, praying and hoping. But her kidneys failed and she died.”
“Oh, Brent.”
“I felt responsible, Amira. Why wasn’t I the type of man she could confide in? Why hadn’t I seen what was happening to her? Why hadn’t I questioned her more thoroughly about the weight loss? Why didn’t I see something was wrong with her?”
Amira took a few steps closer to him. “Did you ever consider that maybe she didn’t want you to see?”
“Why not?”
Her violet eyes were wide and steady and compassionate. “For the same reason that you wouldn’t admit your shoulder hurt. Why did you have to carry both grocery bags in here today? Why couldn’t you let me bring one of them in?”
“I didn’t want you to think—”
“That you weren’t strong? That you were taking too long to heal? That I’d think less of you if I had to help?”
He’d never talked about this with anyone. His dad and Shane knew what had happened, of course, but he’d never discussed it with them. He’d never told them how devastated he’d felt or how guilty. Now Amira was making him take another look at all of it. “Women don’t have an image or ego to protect,” he protested.
“Don’t they? Oh, Brent. She probably wanted to keep up with you in every way. She wanted to look good for you. She wanted to be what you wanted her to be.”
“Then it was my fault.”
Shaking her head emphatically, Amira protested, “No, it wasn’t your fault. Even in Penwyck, girls see magazines, read articles about what men supposedly want. They make themselves into a package. It’s onlywhen a woman really trusts a man, deep in her soul, that she can leave off the makeup, dress in sweats and not brush her hair.”
If only he could believe that. If only…“We dated for a year. We were going to get married. She should have trusted me.”
“Did you trust her?”
He thought about that. He’d been building his empire, wheeling and dealing. He and Rhonda had talked about finance, but he’d
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