Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next morning, at ten o'clock Chicago time, I walk up the concrete path to Erica's door. I'd arrived in America at seven o'clock UK time, but that meant it was one a.m. local time, so I had to wait until I knew Erica would be awake. Aye, she would've woken up well before ten, but I wasted a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to wear and what to say once I see her. The clothing I sorted. As for what to say…

I haven't got a bloody clue.

Casey starts barking on the other side of the door, but it sounds like a happy bark, not the way he snarled at the cacan Presley. Casey's barking becomes whimpering and then he gives a little chuff like he can't wait for his mistress to open the door.

It swings inward, and I see Erica for the first time in two months. Watching her from afar in the courtroom didn't count.

She smiles, but it's a bland expression she might give to a stranger. She stands straight as a board, her shoulders back.

I'm standing the same way, but it's anxiety tightening my whole body. My pulse beats so fast I feel slightly weak in the knees, and I have to remind myself to breathe. Despite her impersonal demeanor, the sight of Erica makes me want to pull her into my arms and kiss her while spewing romantic nonsense about how much I love her.

She says nothing. Just gazes at me with dispassion.

I ball my hands into fists, then flex my fingers in an attempt to relax. "Good morning."

That's all I can manage to say.

"What do you want?" she asks.

Never have I heard Erica sound so…cool and unaffected.

It's bollocks. I know that. Still, my shoulders slump, and I shove a hand through my hair. "Please, Erica, let me talk to you. Please."

She wrenches the doorknob, fingers tight, the knob clicking with each half revolution, back and forth, back and forth. Click, click, click. She gnaws on the inside of her lip.

Casey pushes between us to leap up on me.

Well, at least the pup is glad to see me. Since Erica is still gnawing on her lip, I know her cool composure is an act. She must feel as anxious and confused as I do. I scratch behind Casey's ears, but it's a half-hearted reflex. The pup scampers back into the house and straight to the sofa where he jumps onto the cushions and plants his chin on the sofa's back, observing us.

Is that blood I see on her lip? I reach out to touch it, and my thumb comes away spotted with red. "You're bleeding."

"It's nothing."

My throat tightens as I run my thumb over her mouth. "Why are you chewing on your lip like this?" Suddenly, I realize the reason why she bites her lip so hard her teeth break the skin. "It's me."

Frozen, she stares up at me for several seconds without speaking. Then she utters three words. "Go away, Lachlan."

"Please, gràidh." I stroke my thumb over her lip twice more. "Don't hurt yourself because of me."

She barks out a harsh laugh. "Hurt myself? I don't need to. You've done a rather spectacular job of it for me."

Can't speak. Can't move. Go away, Lachlan, she said. Although the words had stung like a physical slap, I hadn't gone icy cold until she told me I'd hurt her more than she could ever hurt herself. But I won't give up. There will be no more running away. I will not leave Chicago unless Erica goes with me, and whatever it takes, I will prove to her I will never cause her pain again.

She squeezes her eyes shut to stave off the tears pooling in her eyes. Her lip trembles under my thumb.

I move closer until our faces are inches apart and whisper, "Don't cry."

Erica cracks her lids open.

For eight weeks, I've stayed a literal ocean away from her. To be so close to her but not hold her in my arms hurts in a way that I've never experienced before, like I've found a lost treasure after decades of searching but I can't keep it.

With both hands, I cup her face as I gaze into her eyes and pray she recognizes the pain in mine that matches her own, the anguish I'm responsible for causing. I slide my hands into her hair, massaging her scalp with my fingers. "I made a horrible mistake, and I've regretted it every day since, more than you could possibly know." My voice broke, but I don't care. And I don't give a fuck that tears are gathering in my eyes, burning like acid. "I know I broke your heart but—"

"Broke my heart?" She sniffles, her tone no longer cool but racked with pain. "You destroyed me, Lachlan."

My chin drops to my chest. What else can I say? I've destroyed us both, but there must be a way to make things right.

Her body slants toward me.

I bend closer, my mouth millimeters from her ear. "Please give me a few minutes to explain why I treated you so terribly. I need you to understand."

"Your ex-wife's a raging bitch. I get it." Her voice has evened out, though tears still shine in her eyes.

"I was afraid, I admit it. What I feel for you is so strong, I can't control it." My hands find her upper arms, though I had no conscious thought to touch her, and my fingers knead her flesh gently. "I thought I needed control, to protect myself from being tricked again. But I was wrong. I don't want to be without you anymore, you're everything that's good in my life. I need you, gràidh."

"Stop calling me that." She shakes free of my hands, stumbling backward a step. "It's too late. Go back to Scotland and move on."

"I can't do that." Rolling my shoulders back, I straighten and fix my gaze on hers. "I won't pester you, but I'm not leaving town without you. I'll be staying at The Langham. You can reach me there or call my mobile."

"Don't hold your breath." She squints at me. "The Langham, huh? Guess you're done slumming it out here in the burbs."

I know she's insulting me only as a means of scaring me away, but it won't work. "I would've preferred to stay with Gil and Jayne, my good friends, but I didn't want to crowd you."

"Instead, you're hanging around to stalk me."

"Erica." I scrub a hand over my face, sighing. "I told you I won't bother you."

"But you're not leaving town without me." She scrutinizes me for a moment, her sharp gaze making my skin itch. "Go home, Lachlan."

"I am home." I capture a loose lock of her hair between my fingers, tucking it behind her ear. "You are my home. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for what I did, making you happy—if you'll let me."

She says nothing, though she rubs her arms as if she's cold.

I trail a fingertip down her cheek. "I've waited two months, mo leannan, the worst months of my entire life. I'm not leaving you again. Not ever."

Her chest heaves as she inhales a ragged breath. "It's not enough. I can't—I won't—"

The time has come to prove to her I mean every word I've said, and I will do whatever it takes to convince her—even expose every raw nerve to her.

I fall to my knees at her feet, tipping my head forward until my forehead meets her belly. Then I grasp her hips to hold her to me with my face crushed against her body. "Give me one more chance. I don't deserve it, but I'm begging you, please. I won't bollocks it up this time. I swear to God, I will be the kind of man you need, the kind you deserve."

Her breaths come fast and shallow, audible to me even from down here. She sounds like she's about to cry. I tilt my head back until our gazes collide. She's holding a hand to her mouth while short breaths hiccup out of her.

I surge to my feet and pull her into my arms like I've dreamed of doing for eight weeks, then I bury my face in her hair, loving the sweet, familiar scent of her.

She sags into me briefly, then wrestles free of my embrace while swiping tears from her face. "No."

Though I had expected that response, it still hurts like a sword driven through my heart. I nod, my shoulders collapsing, and rub the heel of my hand on my chest. My words come out as a monotone. "If you want me, you know where I am."

I turn to leave and hear the door shut behind me. Aye, she rejected me. And aye, it hurts like hell. But I haven't flown thousands of miles across an ocean to give up now.

No matter what it takes, I will win back her trust.