That’s when the office door bursts open again and there’s a collective gasp. Indira lifts her eyes from the screen, her expression changing from I’m-so-busy-pretending-you-don’t-exist to well-well-well-let’s-see-what-happens-now.

Very slowly, I turn and watch Richard storm back into the room.

Twenty-one

Never Wash Dirty Laundry in Public

“I can’t tell you that,” Richard says without preamble.

Storm and thunder are dancing in his brown irises, now almost black. The face I love so much is set in a look of determined anger, ferociously handsome and just plain fierce at the same time. Something lurches inside me and my throat constricts.

Richard shakes his head as if trying to sort conflicting thoughts. “I promised I wouldn’t be here, ever again.”

I drop the duffel bag and take a step forward. “Where’s here?”

Richard looks up again, his eyes wide, vulnerable, without a trace of cynicism—and as they meet mine, the world stops. That one look tells me more than a thousand words could; Richard’s expression tells me he loves me. But I can’t be the only one acknowledging her feelings. So I ask again, “Where’s here?”

“Here is where I’m about to make a fool of myself, again.”

“Why?”

“Because I do love you.”

Tears of relief spring to my eyes.

“There’s nothing foolish about that.”

“No?” He lets out a hysterical laugh. “Love has only ever brought me pain and humiliation. I tried to avoid it, suppress it, deny it.” Richard rubs his forehead and I wait patiently in silence. “But the burning just won’t go away. And I’ve never been more scared in my life. For years, I’ve managed just fine on my own. But then, no, you had to come along and ruin everything. So here is where my heart is again in the hands of a woman who can do whatever the hell she wants with it.”

“Richard, I’m not your ex.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Because it is.”

“Why?”

A painful grimace twists his features. “Because I never loved her the way I love you!” The heart that was hammering in my chest until a few seconds ago stops. “Since you left on Sunday, I haven’t been able to sleep, eat, work, think. You’re everywhere. I can’t stop thinking about you. Even if you refused to talk to me, I couldn’t wait to get to the office every day to see you, and I dread the time of day when I have to go home alone. Then when you didn’t show up today, I thought you were leaving, for good.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“This time or ever?”

“Are we talking about a job here or something else?”

“We’re not talking about a bloody job.”

“Richard.” I take another step forward. “I can’t promise everything will be perfect, that we’ll never argue or break up. And I don’t know if we’ll have a happily ever after. But I’m willing to risk my heart on that possibility. I’m in… one hundred percent.”