“All right. At first, it was fun, like a game. I enjoyed dating a woman with a secret identity. But then, as I started to care for you, I realized that you needed to be the one to tell me—to trust me enough to share who you really were.”

“Who I really was?” Megan’s insecurities flamed into anger. Lacy strikes again. She’d hoped Conner would be different. But that had been too much to expect. He was no different from the others. He wanted Lacy, not her.

“You think this is who I really am?” She picked up the wig and flung it at him. “Then take it! Take it all!”

He laid the wig back on the bed. “I just wanted you to be honest with me. I’m in love with you, Megan.”

The words cut like razors. He’d finally said them—but in the worst possible context.

“In love with me, are you?” She flung the words back at him. “When you held me in your arms, when you kissed me—was it me, or was it your dream woman you were kissing? Next you’ll be wanting me to play dress-up for you—and, believe me, you wouldn’t be the first man to ask.”

“Megan—” Shock turned his face pale.

“No, listen to me. I came up with the name and the costume to help me get singing gigs. I was Lacy Leatherwood onstage, and it was fun at first. But then Lacy started taking over my love life. Guys would ask me out, and before I knew it, they were begging me to show up as Lacy. Maybe that’s why I stuck with Derek, the man I just dumped. He was a controlling jerk in some ways, but at least it was me he wanted, not her.”

Still talking, she picked up the suitcase, opened it on the bed, and began tossing Lacy’s things into it. “I thought maybe you were different, Conner—a man who wanted me for myself. But you’re like the others—maybe worse. You strung me along to test my honesty—or so you say. But the whole time, you were lying, too.”

Megan snapped the suitcase shut, grabbed it by the handle, and stalked out of the room. “No need to see me out. I can manage by myself.”

“Can’t we at least talk about this?” Conner didn’t try to stop her except with words.

“We’re done, Conner. Don’t try to call me.” She strode down the hall, out the front door, and across the porch.

By the time she got to the bottom step, tears were blurring her eyes, but she kept walking, all the way to her car.

* * *