Page 130 of Close Match

There’s a flurry of well wishes before I’m able to guide her down a crowded hallway back to the dressing room we were in hours before. Once we’re inside, her head bows. Her hair cascades forward, exposing the smooth nape of her neck. I swallow hard. “What do you want to do?” I ask quietly.

“I just want to go home.”

“Do you want me to call you a car?” It’s the last thing I want to do, but I can see the trembling exhaustion beginning to set in.

“No.” I remain silent by the door, uncertain whether I should stay or go until she takes the decision out of my hands. “Will you walk me back? I’d like to talk.”

“Of course. I’ll step outside.” I fumble for the knob behind me.

“Thank you. I’ll be just a moment.” She comes closer until mere inches separate us. And then she quietly closes the door in my face.

I fear that’s only the beginning of what’s going to happen on the way back to her condo.

* * *

She’s changedinto an oversized cardigan, leggings, and ballet flats. After the heels she’s been wearing all night, I imagine they feel like heaven on her feet. She’s struggling to shrug on a long black coat while holding on to an enormous purse. “Let me,” I offer quietly.

She stills before turning her back to me. I hold the collar of the coat while she slips in one arm and then another. “Would you mind holding this?” She hands me the oversized leather bag.

I take it and it almost pulls my wrist to the floor. “Jesus, what do you have in here? Anvils?”

Linnie’s lips tip up, revealing a flash of her dimples. “Shoes, makeup, you know—all the things I don’t want to leave here overnight.”

“How about I carry this while you navigate?”

“It’s not that heavy,” she protests. I take a chance and lay my hand on her shoulder. Even through layers of coats and clothes, I feel her stiffen.

“You’re running on empty, Linnie. I can help with this.” I hold her gaze for a moment before she acquiesces.

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she nods toward the right. “Let’s head out the back. If we try to go the way we came, we’ll be here till dawn.”

“Whatever you say.” We begin walking. After a few more well wishes, we’re left alone on a dimly lit staircase heading down a flight. To break the awkward silence hovering between us, I tell her, “I’m sorry to hear about your godmother.”

She pauses on the stairs. Then she begins running. It takes everything in me not to slip and fall while I’m in dress shoes as I chase after her. “Linnie, wait!” I call out.

Through the dimness, there’s a glimpse of light as I hear Linnie slam the door open with all her might. She rushes through it. I’m seconds behind her. New York glory is lighting the street behind us for what’s going to be our confrontation. I can feel it.

Slowly, I let her bag slide from my shoulder down my arm until it lands at my feet while I wait for her to speak.

I don’t have long.

“I thought I could do this.” Tears are beginning to form in her gem-colored eyes. “But it’s eating me up inside. I needed to know there was hope, but I didn’t even have that. You threw me—us—away and yet you’re here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re on a good path, but why? Why are you here after all this time? I was waiting for you to reach out to me the way you did Dad and Char, and you let me go!”

“Then why did you invite me to come?” I ask her quietly.

“To show you I did as you asked. I moved on.” I want to wrap my arms around her, but I have no right. “Then you stood during ‘Sober,’ and there was no way for me to ignore you. Damn you, Monty!” she hurls at me.

Yes, damn me. Damn me to hell and back for sentencing the woman I love to live the same hell I was right alongside me. I can’t change what was, what happened. I can only admit I was wrong.

“I deserve to know why.” Standing tall and proud, she faces me. “I understood your problem. I fought to get you help. And still…”

My heart clenches thinking about how different my life could have been if it hadn’t been for her strength and will.

Both of which the world saw tonight.

“I’m sorry, Linnie. There isn’t a thing I can say to make the thoughts in your head easier.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “If there’s a slim chance you’re able to forgive me, please understand this. I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to make it. At the time I wrote that letter, I was terrified I wasn’t going to be able to recover.”

“Monty.” She steps forward and lays her delicate hand against my chest. I want to shake it off as penance, but I can’t. I’m not that noble.