“But you did the right thing, Sookie. She came to me and freely offered her blood. Since you invited her here without my knowledge, I’m at least not guilty of using her. My fault lies in letting her stay after . . . after I healed.”

“And why’d you do that?”

“Because I hoped somehow my feelings for her had changed, that I could have a genuine love for her. That would have freed me from . . .” His voice trailed off.

He might have finished the sentence, “loving you.” Or maybe, “freed me from the debt I owed her for healing me.”

I did feel a little better now that I knew he was glad to be well, even though the price was that he had to deal with Judith. And I could understand how awkward and unpleasant it would be to be saddled with a houseguest who adored you when you didn’t return the emotion. Who was the one who’d saddled him? Well, that would be me. Of course, I hadn’t known any of the emotional background. Distressed by Bill’s condition, I’d reasoned that someone of Bill’s bloodline could heal him, and I’d found that there was such a person and tracked her down. I’d further assumed Bill hadn’t done that himself from some perverse pride or perhaps even from a suicidal depression. I’d underestimated Bill’s desire to live.

“What do you plan to do about Judith?” I asked anxiously, scared to hear his answer.

“He need not do anything,” a quiet voice said from the trees.

I came up out of my chair like someone had just shot a few volts through it, and Bill had a big reaction. He turned his head and his eyes widened. That was it, but for a vampire, that indicates major surprise.

“Judith?” I said.

She stepped out of the tree line, far enough for me to recognize her. The security light in the backyard didn’t extend that far, and I could only just be sure it was her.

“You keep breaking my heart, Bill,” she said.

I eased away from the chair. Maybe I could slink back into the house. Maybe I could avoid witnessing another major scene—because honestly, the day had been chock-full of them.

“No, stay, Miss Stackhouse,” Judith said. She was a short, round woman with a sweet face and an abundance of hair, and she carried herself as if she were six feet tall.

Dammit. “You two obviously need to talk,” I said cravenly.

“Any conversation with Bill about love has to include you,” she said.

Oh . . . poop. I so did not want to be present for this. I stared down at my feet.

“Judith, stop,” Bill said, his voice as calm as ever. “I came over to talk to my friend, whom I haven’t seen for weeks.”