Page 86 of Second Time Around

He must have felt her gaze because he raised his head. “You have my cell number. If you ever need anything—anything at all—call me. I mean that. I wish—” He shook his head.

“Me, too.” She walked over to lay a hand on his shoulder and rise on her tiptoes, brushing a kiss over his lips. “I’d prefer that you not come with me in the limo. Too many memories. Good ones.”

When she stepped away from him, she saw a cloud of hurt darken his face. A feeble spark of pleasure flickered inside her. He’d wanted to ride home with her. That would be something to hold on to.

She hit the down button on the elevator and stepped inside as the door opened.

His mind had gone blank. No, that was wrong. His mind had gone hollow. Echoing. Dark.

The elevator’s hum ceased, so he knew Kyra was walking down the hall to the front door. He should be there to hold it open for her, but he couldn’t make his feet move.

Why the hell was he standing here instead of spending these last few minutes by her side?

Because she wanted to leave without drama. He could give her that since she’d given him a whole night to say good-bye.

As the loss hit him, he folded slowly down onto the bed, his elbows braced on his knees, his head hanging.

Why couldn’t he love her?