His words hung in the air for a long moment, and for that singular moment, she couldnt believe hed had the audacity to accuse her of self-pity. What did he know about her life, about her?
Anger, swift and self-righteous, suddenly filled her. She stood, allowing the anger free reign. How dare you! she exclaimed. She glared in the direction she thought he stood. You arent the one who has lost everything. You have no idea what Ive been throughwhat Im continuing to go through.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was overreacting, that her anger far exceeded the offense, but it was an anger that had been building inside her since the night her world had exploded apart through inexplicable violence and gut-wrenching terror.
She couldnt corral the anger now that it had been set free. It was much easier to finally give in to it, to allow it to consume her.
You have your nice life in a nice town, she said, her voice strident. Ive lost my family, my career and my sight. Excuse me if I drift momentarily into self-pity. I think Ive earned the right. However, if it makes you uncomfortable, Ill take it into my room.
She desperately wanted to make a dramatic, graceful exit, but as she swept away from the table, she crashed into the corner with her hip, then bumped into the doorway.
Thankfully Jesse didnt reach out to help her, as if instinctively knowing she needed to leave under her own steam, even if she were black and blue by the time she reached her room.
Jesse winced as he heard her bump into the coffee table, then bang into the end table. A moment later he heard the slam of her bedroom door.
He released a sigh, and worried his hair with a sweep of his hand. He was sorry for his thoughtless words. But he had a feeling she didnt want to hear an apology at the moment.
Her family. Shed said shed lost her family. A husband? Children? He remembered vividly his mothers grief when his father had died, a grief so debilitating, it had eventually stolen her will to live.
It was the memory of that grief that had induced Jesse to decide hed prefer to live his life forever alone than to risk experiencing a loss so enormous. Love began with such promise, but always ended in heartache.
As he worked to clean up the dinner mess, his mind went over what little information shed given him, provoking more questions than answers.
She was right about one thing: he didnt know what had happened to her, and he had no right to judge or censure her.
He finished cleaning the kitchen and went into the living room. His usual routine was to turn on the television and relax until bedtime. But tonight he didnt turn it on, felt as if it would be rude to do so since Cecilia couldnt watch with him.
What did Paul do in the evenings? How did he spend the dark hours of his life? These questions drifted into his head, unwelcomed and disturbing.
Jesse had made the decision years ago to walk out of his best friend Pauls life, knowing his presence would forever be a reminder of the tragedy Paul had endured.
Damn Bob Sanford for handing him this particular assignment, and damn Cecilia Webster for making him remember what hed spent so many years trying to forget.
He paced the living room restlessly, his thoughts on Cecilia. Hysterical blindness. Jesse had never heard of such a condition, but he knew the mind was capable of many things.
He froze as he heard the guest room door open.
Jesse?
Im right here, he replied as Cecilia entered the living room.
Slowly she made her way across the room to the sofa and sat. I think I owe you an apology, she said as she folded her hands in her lap.
No, I owe you one, he countered. He sat down opposite her. You were right when you said I have no right to judge you or comment on where you are in your life at the moment. I dont know whats happened to you, and its none of my business. My business is to keep you safe.
Okay, youre right. You owe me an apology. For the first time since shed arrived, a small smile graced her lips. And I accept, but only if you accept mine, as well.
Done, he replied. She was pretty without a smile, but with her lips curved upward, she was more than pretty, and a stir of pleasure coursed through him.
So, tell mewhat do the good people of Mustang do in the evenings to pass the time?
Jesse
shrugged, then remembered she couldnt see the gesture. We dont have a movie theater, no bowling alley or shopping mall, so entertainment is pretty limited.
Jesse realized that while he talked, he was studying her features. Society taught people that it was impolite to stare, but in this case, there was no need to look away or avert his gaze for politeness sake.
Whatever sleep she had gotten before the interference of her disturbing nightmares had been enough to erase the circles beneath her eyes. He assumed she wore no makeup and marveled at the length of her dark lashes. She had the smoothest skin hed ever seen, broken only by a tiny mole just above the left corner of her lips.
Jesse?
He realized hed stopped talking and wondered if shed sensed he was staring at her. I was just gathering my thoughts, he said. Then he continued. Most of the adults of Mustang are porch-sitters. Almost everyone has a porch swing or chairs, and on nice evenings you can hear neighbors calling back and forth to one another. Then, at about seven-thirty or so, a lot of people drift down to the diner for dessert and coffee and gossip.