“Yes.” He took a sip of his drink, and the smile slid from his face. “It doesn’t make any difference. If we were together, sooner or later something bad would happen. It almost happened in Mexico. When it did, it would be my fault, and I couldn’t handle it.”

He set the drink down and rose to his feet. “You need to go, Abby. You need to leave right now. If you don’t, we’ll end up in bed, and things will just get worse for both of us.”

Her legs trembled as she rose from the sofa. “It’s because of Cassandra, isn’t it? It’s always been because of her. Because you feel responsible for her death.”

“I was responsible.”

“It was an accident, Gage. She could have been driving down the freeway when a front tire blew and she was killed. Even if you’d sold her the tire, it wouldn’t have been your fault. Bad things happen to people every day. The bridge was faulty. Cassandra fell and died. It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

“It wasn’t an accident! Cassandra died because of me! She didn’t just fall into that gorge, Abby—Cassie killed herself!”

Silence fell. Abby’s knees felt weak. She dropped like a stone back down on the sofa.

Gage ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t talk about it. I’ve never told anyone, but I guess you deserve to know the truth.”

Abby said nothing. She just prayed he would finish the story, get it all out in the open at last.

“That day on the bridge . . . Cassie was halfway across when her feet slipped off the rope and she fell partway through.” He pushed out a long, shaky breath. “She was scared, terrified. I told her to just hang on. I was coming to get her.” He swallowed. “I was almost there, just a few feet away. I could have pulled her back up. I could have saved her. All she had to do was hang on.”

Abby’s eyes filled. She had never seen such anguish on anyone’s face before. His eyes glistened. The bravest, strongest man she had ever known was on the verge of tears.

“I was almost there,” he repeated, his voice thick and rusty. “She was looking up at me, looking right at me. I knew what she was going to do before she did it. I saw it in her eyes. ‘I love you, Gage,’ she said. And then she just let go.”

Emotion clogged Abby’s throat. Dear God. Rising once more from the sofa, she went to Gage, slid her arms around his neck, and just held on. A shudder went through his big body and he buried his face in her hair.

Abby didn’t let go. What a terrible thing to do to someone, she thought.