Her head went back in surprise. Who would have believed Max would be the one to see the difference so clearly? But still, he seemed to be utterly blind to his own strengths. He was always so carefree and debonair. She’d never known he had this insecurity at his core. She had to make him see how wrong it was.
“Oh, come on. What did we used to call you? Mr. Casanova. A new girl on your arm every night.”
His sigh was full of regrets. “You see, that’s just it.” He took a long drink from his beer and stared into space. “Lots of new girls. No true love.”
It was hard to believe that a man this appealing, this attractive, thought he couldn’t find his soul mate. She looked at him, so handsome, so adorable. Her fingers ached to run through that thick auburn hair. It took all her will to stay where she was.
“Haven’t you ever been in love?” she asked him.
“Not really.” He squinted at her, thinking it over. “I don’t think so. Not like you and Eddie.” His smile was crooked. “I used to watch you two together and I think I hated you almost as much as I loved you.”
“Oh, Max …”
“You know what I mean. It was pure jealousy. You two were so good together, so … so devoted.” His voice broke on the word and she had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from going to him.
Devoted. Yes, that was exactly the way it had been. When she’d found Eddie, she couldn’t believe her luck. They’d met in an elevator in their apartment building in Paris. As they traveled up the floors, people got off, but the two of them remained, until they were alone and looking at each other tentatively across the empty car. Their eyes met. Love at first sight. And when they finally got to her floor, he admitted his had been four stops before. How could she not invite him in for a cup of coffee? Two months later, they were married.
When he’d died, she had thought life was over. She moved in a dark, menacing fog, blindly searching for some way out of the pain, not really believing it was possible. For days, she was obsessed, thinking of ways to join him. And then she realized she had someone else to think about.
“Do you remember …?” Max’s voice choked.
She stiffened. Here it came. She had to keep a cool front. Still, she had to tell the truth, at least as far as it was safe.
“I remember too much,” she said softly.
“Me, too.” He finished off his beer and looked at her. “I think about Eddie every day.”
She nodded, closing her eyes. “Me, too.”
She wasn’t going to cry. She had to hold it back. For a moment, she let herself recall the way it had been being married to Eddie. Sunshine every day. Champagne for breakfast. Walks on the beach and dancing barefoot to a reggae tune. Driving with the top down. Love in the afternoon. Eddie was the best. The very best.
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