NICOLE WAS PUTTING THE FINISHING TOUCHES ON HER sister’s birthday cake when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. That couldn’t be Claire this soon. She wasn’t due for another hour.
She wiped her hands on the dishcloth before heading for the front door. When she opened it, her heart seemed to stop beating.
There was Brad, in a wheelchair with a cast on his leg. Behind him was one of his daughters. The younger one, she thought. Brad was here, at her home. He’d come to see her. She’d succeeded at last.
Nicole had played this scene in her mind a thousand times. She’d imagined him, defeated and destroyed. She’d pictured herself, exultant in victory, glad that she’d had her revenge. She’d envisioned many things about the moment she would see him again, but never that he would be in a wheelchair when it happened.
“Brad.”
“Hello, Nicole.”
She cleared her throat. “What happened to you?”
“I was in an accident.”
“I guessed that much.” She opened the door a little wider. “Do you want to come in?”
“No. I think it’s better that I stay out here. In plain view.”
She didn’t care for the way his words made her feel. But if he thought she would issue any sort of retraction, he was mistaken. It wasn’t in her to back down. Not ever.
Brad glanced over his shoulder. His daughter looked at him for a few moments, then nodded, turned, and walked back to his car that waited at the curb.
“What is it you want, Brad?”
He looked at her, and her heart quickened. That’s the reaction she’d had around him from their first meeting. There was something about him that made him seem unlike any other man she’d known. There was something about him—in his eyes, in his smile, in the tone of his voice—that drew her to him. It always had. If only . . .
“I came to ask your forgiveness,” he said.
He’d surprised her again. “My forgiveness?”
“Yes.”
Crossing her arms, she leaned a hip against the doorjamb and tossed him a saucy grin. “And here I thought you’d be telling me I needed forgiveness from you or Katherine or God.”
There was something in the look he gave her—patience, peace, understanding, something—that made her grin fade.
“Nicole, I’ve had plenty of time to think things over and pray about everything that’s happened, and I realized that I was unfair to you. I thought of us as good friends and dedicated coworkers, but I see now that I crossed a line somewhere along the way. I never meant to, but I did. I’m sorry because my actions gave you the wrong impression. And that must have hurt you.”
She’d expected him to bring up what she’d told the media—an affair, promises made and broken, mismanagement of charitable funds. She’d expected him to threaten her with legal actions of some sort. But he didn’t.Not a word of accusation from him. What was wrong with him? He should be hurting or furious or both. Instead he watched her with . . .What? Compassion? Pity?
So help her, if he felt sorry for her, she’d slap him from here into next week.
“I apologize for anything I did or said that made you think I felt anything beyond friendship. In the future, I will be more guarded, but that doesn’t undo the past. Will you forgive me?”
She’d called Katherine a fool for staying with Brad. Maybe she was wrong about that. Maybe Katherine was smarter than Nicole had believed.
Apparently accepting her silence as an answer, Brad nodded. “Thanks for at least listening.”
Still without a word of accusation or condemnation, he turned the wheelchair around and rolled it down the walk. His daughter came toward him and pushed the chair the remaining distance to the car.
Nicole remained in the doorway until passenger, his wheelchair, and the driver were in the automobile. Only then did she take a step backward and close the door.