The morning Kaylee had walked out on Jeff, he’d woken up hopeful and optimistic.

They’d been fighting for weeks, and he’d been alternating between despair and simmering frustration, but he’d made the resolution to really try to work things out again. He’d planned a romantic dinner and had even bought her a gift—an expensive pair of earrings—so she would know he wasn’t trying to keep nice things from her just because.

He’d gone over the evening again and again in his mind throughout the day, and he was excited as he got home.

He’d found a mostly empty apartment.

Kaylee had taken almost everything—including a couple of pieces of furniture he’d owned before they got married.

He still felt nauseated when he remembered that moment—the empty apartment, a concrete symbol of exactly what she’d wanted from him.

And how little she’d wanted him.

He felt a flicker of that same feeling as he opened his eyes in Balm in Gilead on his last full day there. Nothing really prompted it. He could just feel it roiling in his gut.

It was just natural, he supposed, to think about this past relationship when he was building a new one.

And he was building a new one. There was no question about that. He and Vivian had come to some sort of crossroads the day before. Both of them knew it. She’d let go of what she’d been holding on to; she’d surrendered the social mask she liked to wear.

They’d been together for real as they lay together on the balcony yesterday, and he’d known she knew it too.

He was in love with her.

No sense in trying to deny it.

He’d probably loved her for a while now but had been trying not to recognize it.

He could now.

She was in this too.

His heart could be safe with her.

They’d come to a resolution yesterday afternoon, and both of them knew it.

He wasn’t going to make another mistake like he did with Kaylee.

Tomorrow they’d be going back home, back to the normal world. But things wouldn’t be the same as they’d been before.

He’d have Vivian now.

He pushed down the faint sick feeling, prompted by a two-year-old memory, as he lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Soon he felt hopeful and optimistic.

Something good was going to happen today. He wasn’t going to run away from it either.

He was going make sure it happened.

Both he and Vivian were over thirty. There was no reason to play around or waste time. If they wanted to be in a relationship, then they should really do it. She’d hesitated at first, but that had changed yesterday. She was in this as much as he was now.

He spent a few minutes—not getting out of bed—imagining what it would be like to date Vivian, to get engaged to her, to marry her, to make love to her, maybe even to have children.

The imaginings were so irresistible to him that he could have stayed in bed thinking them through for much longer. But he was usually up and dressed by now, and he didn’t want Vivian to knock on his door and discover him still in bed.

So he rolled out of bed and took a quick shower. He was pulling on a shirt when there was a knock on the door.

He swung it open to find Vivian standing there, wearing shorts and a sleeveless top that showed off her shapely arms and legs and tanned skin. She was giving him an intimate little smile.

His heart leapt in his chest, and he smiled like a dope back at her.

“Did you sleep in?” she asked, her blue eyes taking in his damp hair and lack of shoes.

“A little.”

“You didn’t even shave.” She lifted a hand to rub her palm along his jaw. The light touch was delicious against his stubble, and he had to smother a moan.

“Maybe I’ll grow a beard,” he managed to say in a dry voice.

She chuckled. “I don’t know if you’re the beard kind.”

“I could be the beard kind.”

Her eyes were soft and amused. “If you grow a beard, you’ll have to stop always wearing ties to work.”

“Is there some rule against tie wearing and beard growing?”

“Of course there’s a rule. It’s one of the foundational rules of the universe. Guys who grow beards can’t always wear ties to work.”

He tried to think of something smart to say to sustain their banter, but he couldn’t do it. His heart was too full of her—of this clever, funny, beautiful, generous woman—and there was nothing he could do but respond to the feeling.

He pulled her into a hug.

She hugged him back, and he held her in his arms for a moment in the entrance of his bedroom.

It would be nice—really nice—if he could pull her into his room all the way, carry her to his bed, show her exactly how much he loved her, body and heart.

But it wasn’t their time yet, so he pushed down the urge enough to loosen his arms.

She was flushed and smiling as she pulled away. “You’re in quite a mood today.”

“I woke up thinking about you,” he told her.

“Me too,” she admitted. “I woke up thinking about you too.”

***

They went down to breakfast, and then the staff went to the craft room at Mel’s suggestion so they could make another scrapbook of memories and compare their impressions and creative abilities between the first day and today.

Jeff didn’t actually like crafting of any kind—not any more than he had when he’d first arrived—but he had a good time anyway, watching the staff interact in an easy, friendly, relaxed manner and watching Vivian in particular.

Everyone seemed to have a good time here this week.

Everyone looked more rested and refreshed and genuine.

And Vivian in particular. She’d shed that perfect mask she always wore and was really being herself. She was having a good time, but it was more than that.

She wasn’t trying to make sure everyone liked and respected her. She was here for real, happy for real.

And he couldn’t help the swell of pride that he was part of the reason it was true.

She needed him. He could really help her. He had something to offer her that she recognized, appreciated, valued.

He wasn’t just a date or a business partner to her.

She wanted him for who he really was.

By the end of the morning, he was more determined than ever to make this evening really special, think of some way of capping their week with a night she’d never forget.

He had no idea how to do it though. He was limited to the resources of the center, and he wasn’t even sure what those resources were.

After lunch, he went to find Zeke. He needed to ask someone who worked here, and no matter how taciturn and unsmiling Zeke was, Jeff was more comfortable asking him than Cecily with her characteristic prim coolness.

He wandered around for a few minutes and found Zeke outside, working on the flower beds that ran along the sides of the pool deck.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t a normal tone for him, so he wasn’t sure he succeeded. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Zeke looked up from where he was crouching on the ground. He didn’t say anything, but he was obviously waiting and listening.

Jeff cleared his throat, feeling like an idiot. “I was wanting to… to do something special this evening… for someone.” Damn, could he manage to sound any stupider? “But I wasn’t sure what was possible. Here. I mean, I wasn’t sure what you had here I could use.”

Zeke blinked. “Special?” he asked gruffly.

“Romantic,” Jeff admitted.

He was normally a mature, basically confident man. Only Vivian could make him willing to feel like such a fool.

Zeke didn’t reply for a moment, and his face reflected no expression. Then he said curtly, “We have a boat.”

Jeff raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“We have a boat,” Zeke repeated.

It took a few seconds for Jeff to process, but he eventually realized the words weren’t just a random, disconnected statement. Zeke was actually making a suggestion for something he might do for a romantic evening.

Jeff relaxed slightly. “Oh. Yeah. That might be good. She’d enjoy that. Although I’m not much of a boater.”

“Just a small motorboat. It’s easy to handle. I can show you.”

“Okay. That would be great. Thanks.”

“You should get a bottle of wine,” a new voice came from behind Jeff.

He turned to see Daniel Duncan, leaning against the railing with an amused smile.

“Sorry,” Daniel added. “I couldn’t help but overhear. But you should definitely get a bottle of wine. And finger food. Something easy to eat. Don’t try something that needs plates or forks. I’ve tried that for a romantic picnic, and it ended up being a huge pain. And a mess.”

Jeff chuckled, not even offended by this intrusion. “Yeah. I don’t think I’m going to try a four-course meal on a boat. But wine and finger food is a good idea.”

“There’s a market in Buxton,” Zeke said, still not smiling although he seemed genuinely engaged in the conversation. “They have flowers too.”

Flowers. He could get Vivian flowers.

“Okay. Great. When can you help me with the boat.”

“Hour or two. Just come find me.”

Jeff nodded and thanked the man, who soon apparently forgot he existed.

Daniel was still standing nearby, an amused look in his eyes. “Easy food and nothing messy,” he said. “That’s my best suggestion.”

“Got it. So you’ve made a mess of a romantic evening before?”

“More than once,” Daniel said. “Although my wife almost burned the house down in her attempt to create a romantic evening for us once, so I still say I’ve come out ahead.”

Jeff laughed. He genuinely liked this man, and he wasn’t embarrassed about someone else knowing his plans.

He was excited now about tonight.

He wanted to tell Vivian that he loved her, and he wasn’t even afraid.

***

The romantic evening didn’t go quite as smoothly as he had hoped.

He went to the store to buy what he needed, and then he found Zeke, who showed him the boat and how to use it.

It wasn’t very large. It wasn’t very complicated. Jeff wasn’t worried about making it move or getting it out onto the water where he wanted to.

But the first complication came when he discovered Vivian had made other plans for the evening. She and the staff were going to sit around the fire pit on the beach one last time before they left. Vivian looked happy, pleased with the idea, and Jeff had no idea how to convince her that he had a better idea.

As he stood still in the hallway, trying to think of some way to handle this, Vivian frowned and stepped closer to him.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, searching his face with something between confusion and concern.

“Nothing.”

“Well, something’s wrong. You sound like you don’t want to join us this evening. You don’t have to if you don’t want, but everyone would think it was strange. Aren’t you feeling good?”

Her eyes were soft on his face, and in any other situation, he would love the tender intimacy of her look, as if she had every right to take care of him, to find out what he wasn’t saying.

Now, however, it was very inconvenient. “I feel fine.”

“Then what’s the matter? Are you feeling antisocial for some reason? You haven’t been around much all afternoon. I looked for you.”

“I was… busy. I’m not feeling antisocial.” She wasn’t going to let it go, and there was no possible excuse for his response, so he had no choice but to tell her the truth. “I was just… I thought we might do something else this evening.”

“Like what?” She still had absolutely no idea. Her eyes were wide and innocent. “I’m sure the others would be willing to do something else if—”

“Not the others. Just us.” For no good reason he felt silly explaining himself. And really young.

Her eyes widened even more, and her lips parted slightly. He saw the recognition wash over her face.

“It’s not really a big deal,” he said. “I just thought maybe you and I could…”

“Do something else,” she finished for him, her mouth turning up just slightly in a little smile.

“Yes.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward, kissing him gently, deliciously. “You’re the sweetest man. Did you know that?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You can mock if you want.”

“I wasn’t mocking! You really are sweet. There aren’t many guys left like you around anymore.”

Since she seemed to mean it, despite the soft amusement in her tone, he relaxed and slipped his arms around her waist. “Then you better hold on to the one you have.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I already know.” She kissed him again, just as lightly as before. Then she asked, “What did you have planned for tonight?”

“What does it matter if we aren’t going to be able to do it?”

“Maybe we still can. We can do the beach thing with the others but call it an early evening. Say we’re tired or whatever. Would we still have time afterward?”

“Sure,” he said, his heart warming at the realization that she wanted them to do what he’d planned, that she wanted to spend the evening with him even if they had to do some maneuvering to make it work.

It was like a miracle. Like a dream.

That Vivian—his Vivian Harper—wanted to be with him like that.

“Good,” she said. “We’ll do it afterward then. I’m looking forward to it.”

So was he.

***

So after that first complication was dealt with, things went fine for a while. They had an early dinner with the others—after Vivian had declared she was starving and they needed to eat early tonight—and then they went down to the beach to sit around the fire pit. Garrett brought his guitar again, and they hung out for more than an hour.

At a quarter to eight, however, Jeff was starting to get restless. He wanted to move on to the next part of the evening, and the others showed no signs of wrapping up. Vivian kept meeting his eyes, and he could see she was amused by his impatience.

She might want to spend the evening with him, but she wasn’t in a hurry—not like he was.

He hemmed and hawed for about ten minutes, trying to find a time to break in and declare it time to call it a night. Every time he started to speak, though, someone else would beat him to it, suggesting another song or telling another story.

Eventually, Jeff felt like groaning every time anyone opened their mouth.

Finally Vivian must have taken pity on him. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned loudly. “All right. You all can stay out here longer if you want, but I’m going to call it quits for the night.”

If the others were surprised by her early retreat, they didn’t act that way. The others followed her lead—as they nearly always did—and everyone agreed to break up the group for the evening.

As everyone wandered off in different directions, Jeff lingered on the beach, waiting with Vivian until the others were out of sight.

No one would think it was strange. He and Vivian talked privately all the time, and it would be normal for them to walk back together.

When they were finally alone, he took her hand and led her down the beach toward the boat dock.

“Where are we going?” Vivian asked, having to walk quickly to keep up with his stride.

“You’ll see.”

“I thought your head was going to explode for a few minutes there.”

“You could have helped me out earlier, you know.”

“I know. But it was just too funny watching you bite back your annoyance every time someone said something.”

“I’ve planned a very romantic evening here,” he told her with narrowed eyes. “You could try to be a little appreciative, you know.”

“I do appreciate it.” Her face was flushed and warm and pretty and fond. “What kind of romantic evening do you have planned?’

“Just tell me you don’t get seasick.” It had never even occurred to him, but that would be the perfect ironic end to this day.

“What? No, of course not. Are we going out on a boat?”

“Yes.”

He led her down the dock to where the small boat was tied. It was all prepared, thanks to Zeke, and Jeff had put all his provisions in earlier.

It was just after eight. The sun hadn’t yet set. It was a warm, pleasant evening, and he was going out on a boat at sunset with Vivian.

He didn’t even mind the slight frustrations in getting to this place.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” Vivian said as she situated herself in the boat and saw the wine and bag of groceries and flowers he’d gotten. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

The humor had left her face now. She looked almost awed. And very touched.

Jeff’s heart did a familiar little flip-flop. “Why wouldn’t I do it?”

“For me?” she breathed.

She was such a complex incongruity of confidence and insecurity—always so polished and sure of herself, except when it went deep. He reached out and cupped her cheek with one hand. “Only for you,” he murmured, rather thickly.

Fortunately, the complications he’d faced in getting here disappeared as soon as they set off from the dock. The boat moved easily, and he had no trouble steering or turning it. They went out far enough so it felt like they were completely alone, and they drank wine and ate bread and cheese and grapes and strawberries and chocolate truffles as the sun set.

Eventually the food and wine were gone, and it was starting to get dark. Vivian was leaning against him, and his arm was holding her close. Everything felt just about perfect, and he knew she felt the same way.

It felt like it had the previous day when they’d been lying on the chaise together on his balcony.

But better.

Even better.

This was the moment—the moment when he could finally know for sure his heart was safe.

She wasn’t going to hurt him, reject him, throw him away the way Kaylee did.

They’d agreed to be real with each other, and he believed it was true.

She wanted this as much as he did.

She turned her head to gaze up at him, her eyes almost glazed with pleasure and something deeper. “Thank you for doing this,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to.”

“Well, I’m glad you wanted to, but it must have taken some work and planning, so I should be able to thank you for it anyway. I didn’t even know you could drive a boat.”

“I can’t really. Zeke showed me how.”

“You actually managed to get Zeke to help you? That was definitely an impressive feat.”

“He actually was good about helping. I don’t think he’s a bad guy underneath all the rudeness.”

“Maybe not. But I still appreciate everything you did. I’m never going to forget tonight.”

“Good. Me either.” He stroked her hair back from her face and then couldn’t resist the lovely curve of her lips. He leaned forward to kiss her. “I love you, you know.”

He’d wanted to tell her. All day he’d been thinking about telling her. But he hadn’t really planned to say it then.

As soon as he said the words, he felt a chill of anxiety. Maybe he should have waited longer. Now he felt naked, vulnerable, uncertain—and he hated feeling that way.

She blinked, staring at him in the dim light from the boat and the moon and the stars. The sun was gone now, taking most of the light in the world with it.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed it again and let out a little breath.

His heart, which had been bursting to near explosion for a while now, suddenly dropped painfully.

This wasn’t good.

This couldn’t be good.

“Jeff,” she said at last.

He cleared his throat. “You can’t be surprised, Vivian.”

“I’m… I don’t know. I mean, it means a lot to me—that you’d say that—but it’s… it’s still early. Too early for that.”

He could see, in a certain way, that her words made perfect sense. They’d been together romantically for less than a week.

But they’d been together in every other way for years.

Despite the way this felt like a complete rejection, he was determined not to be unreasonable. Just because Kaylee had rejected him didn’t mean Vivian would too.

He took a deep breath and nodded. “I understand. It hasn’t been that long since things have changed. I know.”

She was searching his face almost desperately, as if she was searching for signs of his feelings. “You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset,” he said, still striving for calm despite the aching irony in his tone. “But I do understand. It’s okay.”

She swallowed visibly and inclined her head as if she realized how he felt and sympathized. “I’m really sorry. It’s just… so soon.”

He nodded again and said with more composure, “I know. As long as you’re in this for real, I’m really okay.”

“I am.” She reached over to put a hand on his forearm. “I really am. I promise.”

He could see on her face that she meant it, and he was able to take a deep breath for the first time. “Good. I’m glad.”

She smiled, a slight sheen of tears in her eyes. “This is real, Jeff. I’m in it for real. I’ve never… It’s never been like this for me before.”

He took a deep breath and started to relax.

He could do this. He could be patient. He wasn’t going to get his heart broken again.

Vivian wasn’t Kaylee. History wasn’t going to repeat itself.

He was safe in this. She might not be able to say the words.

“So it’s okay if we at least let the staff know we’re dating?” he asked, wanting final confirmation of his reflections.

He was watching her carefully, so he immediately saw when something froze up in her expression.

His heart sank, and this time no attempt at reasonableness could bring it back up.

He knew what this meant.

He knew.

“If this is real,” he said slowly, “then surely we don’t have to keep it private.”

“It is real,” Vivian said, growing urgent again. “But it’s still so early—”

“It’s not early. Maybe it’s early for I love you, but it’s not too early to treat this as something more than a dirty secret.”

She gasped at his last words, as if he had struck her. “I don’t think it’s dirty, I just…”

“Don’t want anyone to know you’re with me.”

“It’s not about you. It’s…” She couldn’t seem to find the words to finish the thought.

He didn’t need the words. He understood completely.

And the understanding had crashed down around him like a tidal wave.

He had to wait for a minute before he’d managed to compose himself. Then he finally said in an unnaturally calm voice, “I’m okay with you not being able to tell me you love me. But I’m not okay with this. You agreed that we would be real with each other. This isn’t being real. This… isn’t what I want.”

Part of him ached at the fear flickering on her face as he spoke, like she knew she had just stepped over a cliff but there was no way to pull herself back. But the rest of him was feeling that same wash of absolute rejection he’d felt when Kaylee had cleared out their house and walked out on him without a word.

And there was no talking himself out of it this time.

“Don’t say that, Jeff. Can’t we just wait for a little while longer?”

“How long?”

She gave a helpless shrug.

“You don’t know because you’re not sure we’re actually going to ever get to that point.”

Vivian made a little wordless noise. Then she took a breath and said, “Please. Things are going well. Why do you have to—”

“Why do I have to what? Take this seriously? Take you seriously? You’re saying I shouldn’t?”

“Jeff, don’t make it sound like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t care. You know I do care. You know how much this… this means to me.”

He did know.

He’d seen her change over the past week, open up to him in a way she never had before, in a way she never had with anyone.

But he’d been wrong about her too.

He’d thought she was in this all the way, and she clearly wasn’t—not like he was.

He’d thought he could trust her not to reject him, and he couldn’t. Not really.

She was still looking for a way out—in case she wanted one later.

“It means a lot to you, but you don’t want anyone to know about me,” he said in that same clipped voice he didn’t like. There was no other way he could speak though, not without completely losing it, completely humiliating himself.

“I’m not ashamed of you or anything, Jeff. I’m just not ready to… to…” She trailed off, and there was a little sob in her voice.

She was almost as upset as he was.

Almost.

For a moment he couldn’t say anything.

Vivian swiped a tear away and reached out to clench his shirt in one of her hands. “Jeff, please don’t do this. This doesn’t feel right—for you to be angry at me because I’m not in exactly the same place you are.”

“You think I’m angry?” he breathed.

She winced, as if she’d been stabbed. “Jeff, I’m doing the best I can. I told you that I was… I was complicated and high maintenance and wouldn’t be an easy person to be with. I’m… I’m trying. You said you were up for the challenge.”

He had said that, and he’d even meant it—but she could hardly expect him to keep pouring himself into something if she wasn’t going to reciprocate, if she was going to keep holding back on him.

If she didn’t really want him after all.

They sat together in silence for more than a minute, no sound except the soft slap of the water against the boat and their heavy breathing.

“Jeff?” she said at last, the one word an aching question.

“Let’s go back,” he said.

She grabbed at his arm. “Jeff, are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. You’re the one who isn’t. You’re the one who’s just trying something out with me.”

She gave a little jerk as if he’d struck a blow.

Then she clenched her jaw and gave a small nod. “Okay. Fine.” She wasn’t meeting his eyes, but she also wasn’t crying anymore. “If that’s the way it is, then fine.”

Jeff felt sick. Physically ill. His stomach churned with it as he took them back to the dock.

Vivian got out of the boat quickly, even before he’d tied it up.

She looked like she was about to hurry away, but she glanced back at him once more before she did.

She didn’t say anything, and it was dark, so her face wasn’t clearly visible.

But it felt like her look was a question.

He shook his head, knowing the answer, realizing he should have known it all long, had he not let his foolish dreams and desires lead him astray again. “This isn’t going to work,” he said hoarsely.

“Okay,” she said, sounding like she was swallowing the one word. “You’re probably right.”

She turned and walked away—striding quickly across the sand in the dark.

He should go with her. He shouldn’t let her walk by herself on the beach at night. It was a private beach, but there was nothing to keep strangers out.

He stood where he was and watched her go.

He hadn’t handled that well. At all. He’d reacted out of pain, and he’d hurt her in the process.

But ultimately it was for the best.

She’d taken this too well.

She hadn’t been torn apart by what was clearly a breakup.

Her heart wasn’t breaking like his was.

So whatever had been between them would have fallen apart eventually.

Better to do it now while he still had some hope of saving a few small pieces of his heart.