Brice cleared his throat as they walked along the bank of the river toward the seclusion of the park. “I haven’t liked myself very much lately,” he admitted. “I didn’t much like learning certain things about myself.”
“Brice”—her voice was soft and sad—”I didn’t want you hurt, not for the world. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t tell you about my past with Gabriel because I truly thought him lost to me. Otherwise, I would never have allowed you to think there was a chance for us. You knew I didn’t love you. I told you I didn’t.”
“I loved you enough for both of us.”
His words stabbed at her heart. “Brice, no one person can make a relationship work. It takes two people together. I wish I was the right woman for you, but I know I’m not. There’s someone out there, someone very special who will love you as you deserve to be loved.” She used her voice, giving a little push even though she didn’t like to do such things do with friends. She hated his pain, hated knowing she was the cause of it.
Brice was silent for a moment; then he let go of her arm and clutched his head. Francesca touched him. At once she could feel his pain, a sharp splintering headache growing and building at an alarming rate. She settled her fingers around his arm. “Let me help you, Brice. You know I can.”
He broke away from her, breathing heavily. “No, Francesca, just let me be for a moment. I’ve been getting these headaches the last few days and they’re killers. I even had a CAT scan done to see if I had a tumor.” He pulled a tube from his pocket, took off the lid, and shook several small pills into his mouth.
Francesca could see his hand was trembling. “You don’t need medication. I can take the pain away,” she said softly, feeling hurt by his rejection.
He shook his head again, this time decisively. “Don’t waste your time and talent on me. The pills work just fine. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be okay.”
A small frown touched her soft mouth. “Brice, I know you’re angry with me, but these headaches sound serious. You know I can help. How often are you taking these pills? What are they?”
He shrugged and cut through the park along a dark pathway, holding aside the low-lying branches to prevent them from hitting Francesca. “It doesn’t matter. Why were you looking for me?”
“Where in the world are we going, Brice? This path leads out of the park toward the cemetery. Let’s go back.”
He swung around to face her and once again she thought there was something crafty in his eyes. Then he blinked and it was Brice looking down at her with sad eyes. But Francesca was very uneasy now. Nothing felt right to her, not Brice, not the path they were taking, not even the night itself. She bit down on her lower lip while she tried to think what he could be planning. Brice was not a violent man, she knew that much about him. He was gentle and caring, even if he was ambitious.
“We aren’t going back, Francesca, not until we talk this out. If nothing else, I want to stay friends. I’m hurt, I won’t deny that, and I’ve acted like a spoiled child, but I always thought you would come around and marry me. I really did. In my mind we were already engaged.” He shook his head as he picked his way along the uneven surface of the road. “You never looked at other men, never. I thought that meant you truly felt something for me, but you had been hurt and were afraid to love again.”
Francesca could see the first of the many headstones standing like silent sentinels of the dead in the graveyard. It was a beautiful place really, ancient, a place where it was believed the sacred and the damned had to be kept apart. One side of the burial grounds was sanctified, blessed with holy water, while the other was for those who had lived lives of sin and debauchery, criminals and murderers. It was now being torn up, the dead removed to the new cemetery away from the middle of the city. The machines hadn’t yet reached the area where they walked. The imminent destruction made her sad; she had many human friends buried there.