The flight home was lonely, mostly because her wretched heart refused to accept the facts her logical brain understood. Maybe Paul claimed that she was his, and maybe he was even right. But if he was hers, he’d denied her the opportunity to be by his side. To hold him when he needed her and to comfort him in a time of stress.

She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that their news was enough to give the man a heart attack—clearly, there was a heart issue to begin with, and although the raise in blood pressure surely exacerbated the situation, there was a prior condition involved.

A quick web search told her that most people in Paul’s dad’s situation recovered, but it didn’t help heal her heart any. From her mother’s texts, what happened was called stress cardiomyopathy—not a heart attack, although it was often mistaken for one. He’d recover fully, and wouldn’t suffer any long-term damage to his heart muscle, based on what her mom said.

Her newly minted stepfather would be okay. Her mom had headed to the hospital to be with him, so she’d be okay. Hell, even Paul would be okay, once he realized his father had an excellent prognosis—based on her mother’s texts since she’d left the hotel.

The only one, so far as Liza could see, who didn’t stand a good chance at recovery was her.

Dammit, she loved him. She knew better than to let herself fall for him again—had she ever fallen out of love with him, really? But she’d gone and jumped with both feet.

Too bad all she had to show for it was a gorgeous ring and paperwork to file with the court.

Once she’d made it back to her apartment, she looked around the empty space in dread. Before, this place was her solace. She’d worked hard, furnishing it with things that made her happy, yet none of the things did a thing to make her feel better now.

Probably because they were things, and she didn’t want things. She wanted Paul.

No sense sitting around and soaking in her own misery. With a sigh, she dropped her bags and sat at her desk. When all else failed, she could always get back to work.

Paul felt like a class A asshole before Liza’s mother came to sit with him in the waiting room. Somehow, having her there made him feel even worse.

He’d spoken out of hand to Liza, and he’d have to play hell to earn her forgiveness. When he made it back to the hotel, he’d have some major groveling to do. But it wasn’t until they said his dad would recover that he’d been able to see past his own fear.

Hell, he’d never been so scared before. It was all well and good to know he was a grown man and didn’t need his father anymore, but it was another entirely to have to accept and own the fact that he might lose his dad forever.

Life was short, as proved by this little incident. He and Liza wasted too much of theirs already, worrying about what other people thought. It was time to start living for themselves.

“You’re being awful quiet,” Liza’s mother pointed out.

“Thinking,” he said, honestly.

“You’ve always loved her, haven’t you?” she asked.

Glancing at her, it was easy to see that her daughter would look a lot like her one day. Their family aged gracefully, and Liza’s mom was still beautiful in a wise-woman sort of way. “Yeah,” he admitted. “You didn’t seem nearly as shocked as Dad when we announced that we’d gotten hitched.”

Liza’s mom—his new stepmother—leaned back in her seat with a smile. “The way you two look at each other? I’m just happy it’s more than lust. For a long time, I thought that was it. It has only been in this past week that I believed there was something more.”

He blinked at her, surprised. “What made you think that?”

“I’ve loved your dad, even when we didn’t get along, most of my life. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, the love in his eyes, for more years than I can count. How hard is it to recognize that same emotion on the face of his son? Not very, my boy. Rather easy, to be honest. You love my Liza, and now you’ve gone and pushed her away. Not your smartest move, and if she’s anything like me, she’ll run.” The older woman closed her eyes, resting her head on the wall behind the row of seats.

He said, “I’ll just talk to her. Tell her Dad is doing better and—”

“Her flight left an hour ago,” Liza’s mother pointed out.

“Flight?” he asked, feeling stupid and panicked all in one breath.

“Yes, Paul. She went home. After all, you told her this was a family affair and to basically fuck off, didn’t you?” Liza’s mother blinked at him, waiting until he acknowledged the truth.

“I can’t go after her,” he said, thinking through the situation as quickly as he could. “I can’t leave my dad.”

“Stay here. Be with your father until he recovers…then go after our girl.”

“You’re not worried about the stigma?” Paul asked her.

“Pfft,” Liza’s mother said with a wave of her elegant hand. Her new wedding band flashed angrily in the light. “You live in one state, we live in another. Who in the hell will know you’re stepsiblings by marriage if you don’t tell them?”

He swallowed hard. “You make a good point,” he admitted.

Just then, the doctor came in and Paul stood with her to listen to the results.

She was right, though. He’d stay with his dad, but once he was sure he’d be okay…

He was going after his girl. And he wasn’t wasting another moment on worrying about what people might think.