Page 72 of Running to You

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you remember your company’s New Year’s Eve party?”

Even as she shook her head, he saw the faraway look in her eyes that told him the memories were returning.

She’d planned it as a grand celebration after the sale of the company. But earlier that day, the new owner had called to give her a heads-up that, though he’d promised not to, there would be layoffs. Rather than waste his time telling her the names of those who’d lose their jobs, he gave her the three names of those who wouldn’t. Eliza’s name was on that list, along with two low-level employees.

Everyone else got the axe January second. Eliza’s friends. Her second family. Of course she’d resigned in solidarity.

Sam could understand why the jerk had wanted to warn her, probably trying to avoid a big ugly scene at the office. Why it couldn’t have waited until after the holidays, though… That was the part that burned him.

It was bad enough the buyer had lied to Sam about his intentions. But if he’d waited one day, everything would have been different.

Maybe not better, though. Maybe he should feel thankful the jerk had ruined his plans.

Eliza attended the party that night with the horrible secret tucked inside. Sam’s heart had ached for her, knowing how much she loved and respected her coworkers, most of whom her late father had hired and trained. He’d trusted her with his company, and from her perspective, she’d blown it.

Meaning, Sam had blown it.

Her lips tightened at the corners.

“You blamed me,” he said.

“You said I could trust them.”

“No. I said it was a great deal, that nobody else would pay you nearly what they were offering, and if it was about getting as much as you could for your father’s company, then you should take it. But I made it very clear that the new owners wouldn’t commit to keeping all the staff.”

“But you said—”

“I said you needed to make your own decision. That I was only there to advise you.”

“You advised me to take the deal.”

He blew out a breath. Grabbed a sweatshirt out of the basket. Folded it carefully and set it on the T-shirt. Trying to rein in his emotions. “I can’t see into the future, Eliza. It’s not fair that you expected me to. That you expected me to make the decision for you and then blamed me when it didn’t work out the way you wanted.”

“What does that have to do with our breakup? The day I ran out of that restaurant, I distinctly remember daffodils blooming. We were still together in the spring, so we got past that night.”

“Did we?” He waited for her to speak, but she clearly didn’t know what he was talking about. “Three times at that party, I overheard you asking people what they thought of me. Wondering if you were making a mistake to trust me. Three people, none of whom knew anything about me except what you’d told them and what they’d gleaned in brief introductions. You and I had been together almost a year, Eliza. A year! I loved you. I adored you. I felt terrible when that jerk laid off your staff. Obviously, I don’t understand how you felt. But after that night, I was afraid I was going to lose you. I hoped you’d be able to…”

“I forgave you.”

“I didn’t need your forgiveness.” His words were cold, but he couldn’t help it. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I did the job you hired me to do. I told you all the options. I told you what might happen. You made the final decision. And then you got that terrible news.” He cut off her retort with, “I get it, okay? I get that you were disappointed. But three times at that party—three times—you sought relationship advice from practical strangers. ‘Is Sam a mistake?’ That’s what you asked your administrative assistant. And then that plaid-pants geek from software development and some kid who worked in shipping. You can blame my stupid lunch with Kylee for our breakup, but you were looking for reasons to end it.”

Her mouth opened. Closed. He waited for her to deny it, but she didn’t. Just blinked a couple of times. Swallowed. Obviously, she remembered enough.

“I was going to ask you that night,” he said. “To marry me. But then you got the news about the layoffs, and it wasn’t the right time. For the next four months, I tried to hold it together. Hold us together. You grieved the loss of the business and your job, and maybe your father all over again. When you got angry, you took it out on me. Still, I stayed. I let myself be your punching bag. And your mother’s punching bag, and believe me, she never passed up an opportunity to take a shot at me. But I loved you. I thought…I thought you’d get past it.”

Like the idiot he’d been.

Hadn’t he learned his lesson? He always loved too much. Loved more than other people did.

His brother Michael had taught him that, taught him that nobody would stand by him. But he kept falling for it, over and over. Like a chump.

How much was she remembering? How much of this was news to her? And what emotion had tears tracking down her cheeks?

He didn’t know. Didn’t really want to know.

Which was a lie, but whatever.