Chapter 10

Susan felt a little nervous as she began closing the shop. It was going to be exciting to be at his place for the first time, but she was a little apprehensive about it, as well. Who knew what she would find there in his private world? She chastised herself for thinking the worst. Had she become so jaded by her own bad luck that he couldn’t accept how well things were going for her now?

After the short drive to his place and a ride to the top floor in an elevator that opened into a large hallway that had been renovated into a library area, Susan found herself standing in the doorway of his place. She felt a little overwhelmed as she realized how much this place must have cost. He was right about it being somewhat cold. It looked more like a museum than a home. The only signs of life were the two of them, the small staff, and Stella, who met them at the door. After a brief tour of the rather large place, he excused himself for just a moment to change, leaving her in the care of his maid, Victoria.

“Victoria, I need to make a quick phone call, and my cell phone has died. Is there a landline somewhere that I can use?” Susan asked.

“Absolutely,” Victoria responded, indicating that she should follow her to the study Paul had shown her during their whirlwind tour.

“Thank you so much,” Susan told her, picking up the phone to call her mother.

She had forgotten that she was supposed to stop by after work and wanted to let her know she would stop by tomorrow instead. As she waited for the phone to be answered and then had a brief conversation, she found herself looking at a photograph of Paul and a woman. She was standing behind him, with one hand draped over his shoulder and joined with his own. Both were smiling happily at the camera.

The same woman was on a nearby wall in a solo photograph that appeared to have been taken on a mountain side somewhere. She was in hiking gear, looking as if she was making her way up a steep slope on which she had paused and looked back for an impromptu photo. Susan was guessing that the photographer was Paul. Who was this woman, and why was she all over his study? She heard a sound at the door and looked up to see Victoria looking at her, checking to see if she was done, no doubt. Susan was guessing she was now thinking twice about letting her in here and anxious for her to come out before Paul returned from changing clothes.

“Victoria, who is this woman?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even, as if it was just a passing curiosity. She wasn’t even sure now if Paul’s staff was aware that he had been seeing her all this time. Victoria might just think she was a friend or casual acquaintance even and not think about answering.

“That is Miranda. She is Mr. Brennan’s fiancée,” Victoria responded with a clueless smile.

“Is? He is engaged?” Susan said, feeling as if someone had just punched her.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. She was. Miranda died more than a year or so ago. Cancer. It was horrible. She was so ravaged by the disease that they couldn’t even fulfil her wishes of being an organ donor, except for her eyes,” Victoria said with a sad tone. Susan stood staring at her for a moment.

“Her eyes…” Susan repeated as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Bits and pieces fell together suddenly. Could it be true? How could he have known? Surely, they didn’t relay that kind of information to those left behind.

“Are you done with the phone?” Victoria asked kindly, not realizing what she had just relayed to their guest, but obviously noting that something was wrong.

“Yes, yes. I’m done. Please tell Mr. Brennan that I had to leave,” Susan said weakly, walking around the desk and out the door past Victoria. She made her way quickly to the front door and raced down the hallway to the elevator, pushing the button repeatedly to get it open before Paul followed her. She just couldn’t see him right now. It wouldn’t be good.

Back at her apartment, her mind raced. What had he done? Why had he done it? It was clear that he had lost someone he had loved – still loved, judging from the pictures on his wall. She had died a long, drawn-out death, and at the end, all he had left of her were her eyes. It couldn’t be that somehow, he had managed to track Susan down and…and what? It was too mind-numbing to consider.

By the time she reached her place, she had a headache, a heartache, and her phone was ringing. She pulled it from her purse and saw that it was Paul before silencing it and then powering it off. No way could she talk to him right now. She had to think this through and try to make sense of it. Instead, she fell asleep crying on the sofa, consuming the bottle of wine she had in her cabinet in the process to numb the pain. The doorbell not only went unanswered, but she was completely unaware that it rang.

The following morning, she found Paul waiting for her as she unlocked the coffee shop. Her head hurt, her pride hurt, and he was the last person she wanted to see.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“What do you mean? I was worried. I came from the bedroom last night to have dinner with you, and Victoria said you had left suddenly. I was afraid something had happened at the shop or with your parents. When you didn’t answer my calls, I came by the apartment to check on you, but there was no answer. For all I knew, you were in the hospital or something worse,” he told her, the edge in his voice very noticeable.

“Something worse? Like what? Were you afraid I had gotten cancer and would have to give up Miranda’s eyes to someone else you would have to stalk?” she blurted out, ignoring the people walking down the sidewalk that looked her way. She walked into the shop and Paul followed, but she cut him off, sandwiching him between herself and the door.

“Susan, it’s not what you think…” he tried to tell her.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Miranda?” Susan demanded angrily.

“Oh, God, Susan. I wanted to, but it never seemed to be the right time, and after things began to get serious between us, I didn’t want you to think that you were some sort of rebound. I didn’t want you to think that I was still hung up on my dead fiancée,” he told her, his voice full of regret.

“Is that all, Paul? Is that all you should have told me?” Susan spat at him.

“Susan… I don’t know what to say,” he responded, looking dismayed and at a rare loss for words.

“Is it true? Are these her eyes, Paul? Do I owe my sight to your loss? Is that why you are with me? Tell me that you aren’t with me just because I have some tiny piece of Miranda implanted in me,” Susan screeched, now feeling the pinnacle of her rage at him. His silence spoke volumes as he looked down at his hands without saying a word. “Get out. I can’t talk to you right now. Just leave, and let me get my shop open. We won’t be serving coffee to you today, by the way.”

“Okay, Susan, but we need to talk about this soon,” he said weakly.

“No, we needed to talk about this a long time ago. Now, we only need to talk about it because I found out on my own. Go!” She was angry and hurt, and she needed him to leave. Thankfully, he did that, turning to go without another word. She locked the door behind him and went into the kitchen to get ready for the day, seething the entire time. The rest of the day was spent just trying to maintain a pleasant demeanor toward her customers, though her hair bristled once as she saw Paul walk by and peep in nervously.