Let It Be Me, Becky Wade [beautiful books to read .TXT] 📗

tend to receive acts of service well, which is a flaw of mine. If you want to express how you feel about me, I recommend that you tell me.”

“I care about you.” His eyes held hers. “A lot. I’m worried you don’t feel the same about me because I haven’t heard from you for a week.”

“I . . .” She selected her words the way she’d carefully choose shells on a beach. “I care about you, too. I didn’t call you because it seems to me that parting ways at this point is the wisest step.”

His mouth thinned. “Why?”

“Because our . . . connection was supposed to be carefree and fun.”

“It is carefree and fun.” He spoke in a voice so much the opposite of carefree and fun that she laughed.

“No,” she insisted, “it’s not.”

“Your time with me in Atlanta wasn’t fun?”

“It was fun—up until we argued. It hasn’t been fun since then. Potentially worse, though . . . my feelings for you are no longer as lighthearted as I’d have them be.”

“Explain to me why it’s important to you that your feelings for me stay lighthearted.”

“So many reasons.”

“I’d like to hear them all.”

“Well, before I’d feel comfortable allowing my feelings for you to become more . . . entrenched, I’d want to have some assurance that you’ll be able to let me in. Otherwise, what are we doing here? We’re wasting our time because we’re destined for failure.”

He seemed to weigh her point of view. “I’ve been letting you in. As much as I can. This is me, letting you in.”

“And what about trust? Do you think you’ll be able to bring yourself to trust me?” She hastened to add, “I won’t blame you if the answer’s no. If the answer’s no, I’ll understand why.”

“Look, I can’t stand here with a straight face and tell you that I’m skilled at relationships. I’m not. But I can tell you that I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I think about you all day. In any given moment, I’m more worried about your happiness than my own. Food tastes terrible to me. I can’t concentrate. Markie has accused me of waking up on the wrong side of the bed every day this week.” He scratched the back of his neck. “You’re worried about taking this to the next level, and I get it—because so am I. I’m worried enough about where this is going that I’ve been losing sleep over it. But here’s what it comes down to for me: I’m willing to lose sleep over it. The thing I am not willing to lose right now . . . is you.”

Oh dear. Her inhibitions were swooning like Victorian women.

“I can’t guarantee that I can be what you want me to be or anything else about the future,” he continued. “We won’t know what’s going to happen with us until we let it happen.”

She appreciated that he’d refrained from spouting lies about his ability to trust. At the same time, uneasiness curved around her lungs, because she truly did see his issues as landmines.

“The timing of our relationship is terrible,” she stated.

“How so?”

“At the moment, I’m focused on shepherding Dylan through his senior year.”

“Your focus on that shouldn’t and doesn’t have to change.”

“Then next school year, when Dylan goes to college, I’ll finally have the opportunity to begin my PhD coursework online. It won’t be easy. I’ll still be working full time at the high school. Classes, studying, projects, and papers will take almost all the free time I have. It doesn’t make sense to sabotage my focus by adding a man to my life who has a very demanding career of his own.”

“Leah.”

“Yes?”

“If you told me you wanted Saturn on a string, I would do my best to get it for you. I’m a determined person, and I’m determined that you’ll get your PhD. If you’ll let me, I’ll fight beside you to protect your dream.”

His words knocked the wind out of her. “I—I don’t expect you to protect my dream.”

“It’s important to you, so it’s important to me.”

Nothing he could have said would have endeared him to her more.

“What other concerns do you have?” he asked.

“We don’t live in the same town. That’s a concern.”

“I don’t like living an hour and forty minutes away from you, but I’m willing to come here for the weekend whenever I’m not on call. I won’t pressure you to come to Atlanta.”

“You pressured me to go to Atlanta just a few days ago!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll do my best not to pressure you in the future. At least—” he looked sheepish—“not often. If there comes a time when someone needs to move, I will.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He looked her right in the eye. “Try me.”

“There are no pediatric heart clinics in Misty River.”

“If sacrifices or compromises need to be made for our relationship, Leah, I’ll be the one to make them.”

She’d been to his hospital twice. She’d seen a few of his patients. Extensively, she’d studied his specialty. She’d never condone his leaving Beckett Memorial unless he left to accept a more senior position at an even more influential hospital. So, see? Her vehement reaction to the mere idea of his moving proved her concern valid. Despite his incredibly noble words, if one of them had to make a compromise for their relationship, it would not be the pediatric heart surgeon.

She’d watched her mom subjugate her dream of living overseas for her marriage, and look how well that had turned out. Ultimately, Mom’s resentment toward her husband had boiled over.

“You’re smart,” he said. “You rely on your brain to make informed decisions. I respect that. But your decision to take over custody of Dylan wasn’t made by your brain because, on paper, it didn’t add up.” He tipped his head slightly. “Was taking over custody of Dylan the best decision you ever made?”

Confound it! He was good at this. “You know that it was.”

“When it comes to me, I’m asking you to draw on whatever part of you made that