“No, it wasn’t, but I’m glad you did.” He thought he’d felt pain enough, but he hadn’t known the half of it.
Shanice slid into the driver’s seat and Roman closed the door. She lowered the window. “Please don’t think less of her.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Roman leaned down slightly. “When you talk to Brian, tell him I’m going to be gone for a while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you going?”
“San Francisco.” He’d already packed and planned to leave the next morning. “Tell him I’m taking care of unfinished business. He’ll understand.”
“Safe travels, Roman.” Shanice drove away.
Roman entered his apartment and tossed his keys on the coffee table. Sinking onto the couch, he put his head in his hands. “Jesus.” It was a soft, broken cry. Shanice talked about the men in the club, and he saw himself—callow, callous, a user. If Grace had stayed at the cottage, he’d have had no qualms about seducing her.
A blonde. In a black dress. Just his type.
“Jesus.” Roman’s voice came out in a broken rasp, hanging between self-disgust and despair . . . and anger, too. God, You should have left me in hell. It’s what I deserve.
Saved by grace, Brian had told him more than once.
Grace.
Leaning forward, Roman wept.
GRACE SAT OUTSIDE beneath the covered patio with her aunt while Samuel toddled around the backyard. She’d already plucked one wiggly worm and glossy snail from his fist, thankfully before he popped them in his mouth for a taste. He headed for the big red ball, accidentally booting it. With a squealing laugh, he went after it.
Aunt Elizabeth chuckled. “He’ll make a good soccer player.” She sipped her green tea.
It was a little chilly outside, but Samuel needed running room. He’d been cooped up in the house for the last week while rain pattered the roof.
“What’s on your mind, Grace?”
What always seemed to be on her mind lately: Roman. She didn’t speak his name aloud. “Nothing but the usual.” She couldn’t bring herself to talk about him. Not with her aunt. Not with anyone. How long was it going to take to get over him?
“Is your business going all right?”
“It keeps me very busy. Jasper referred another student. Thankfully, because one of my clients no longer needs my services. He got an A on his final.”
“Just like Patrick.” Aunt Elizabeth grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up the past. What about your social life?”
“Church on Sunday and the ladies’ Bible study midweek.”
“Have you met any eligible bachelors?”
“I’m not looking for one.”
“Because you’re still in love with Roman Velasco.”
Grace wasn’t going to lie. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”
Samuel pounced on the ball, and it shot out from under him like a rocket. Grace and her aunt laughed. Samuel let out a screech of surprise and propped himself up on his arms. He got to his feet and went after the ball again.
“Nice to see he doesn’t give up.” Aunt Elizabeth set her teacup on the saucer.
“Not when he wants something.”
“What about you, Grace? Why don’t you just call Roman and see what happens?”
“I know what would happen, and I’m not taking the risk. Besides, you’ve done without a man all your life. So can I.” Regretting her angry outburst, Grace stood. “Would you like more tea? I’m getting more coffee.”
“You can’t even bear to talk about—”
“If Roman wanted to pursue a real relationship, he’d find me.”
Aunt Elizabeth set her teacup and saucer on the end table. “And how on God’s green earth is he supposed to do that? You changed your number and moved to Merced. You swore me and all your friends to secrecy. What’s the man supposed to do? Hire a private detective? Hunt you down like one of the FBI’s ten most wanted?”
“Has he called you?”
Aunt Elizabeth didn’t speak for a moment. “No.”
“He’s never asked Shanice either. So there’s the answer.”
Aunt Elizabeth wilted slightly. “I didn’t know.” She looked away. “I thought . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind what I thought. It’s none of my business, and I’m sorry I butted in.” Her expression turned to one of pain and concern. “I just want to see you happy.”