Seeing the Love (5 page)

Natalie stood in front of the full-length mirror in her hotel bathroom. It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to fly down to Wellington. She hadn’t been back since her parents died. The prospect of meeting Lucas danced before her, as exciting as it was terrifying.

She assessed her appearance with a critical eye. Raised scar tissue snaked up both arms from the wrists to above her elbows. Livid red marks from her most recent operation covered her right ankle. Crisscrossing lines extended from her chest to her sides, and if she stopped to count the multiple other hospital-related marks, she’d be there for a while.

Long sleeves would cover her arms, as usual. She put on her favorite silk blouse with the lacy trailing cuffs. The silk was gentler on her sensitive scar tissue than other fabrics, and she preferred it even if it gave her a slightly bohemian look. Her ankle refused to heal as planned, and she wore a brace to give her extra support. A floor-length velvet skirt mostly disguised it, but she had to wear flat shoes. At least she didn’t rely on the crutches, even if she only moved slowly and with care. Lucas knew about the op. He wouldn’t be expecting her to go for a jog or anything.

She’d arrived two days early and planned to spend some time confronting her Wellington ghosts before the conference started.
Before Lucas
. First stop was the cemetery, to lay flowers on the graves, and from there she took a cab to the waterfront to sit and stare at the harbor. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and she felt almost at ease. Children raced past her on scooters and skateboards, enjoying the sunshine. After saying a mental goodbye to her beloved parents, she set off on the short walk to Waitangi Park. It was a bit stalker-ish of her, but Lucas had said he took Molly there. The chances of seeing him were so slim as to be impossible, but she’d go anyway.

In her head she imagined him.
Lucas
. She pictured a handsome man, broad shouldered and fit from working out at the gym, a beaming smile on his face.  He might be here now, walking Molly. Natalie’s ankle hurt, and she claimed an empty bench on the edge of the grass. She still wasn’t sure if she’d actually go through with it. With meeting him. It would be nice to see him beforehand, to gauge if he would be disappointed in her.
Like Phil.

*

Lucas sat on the wooden park bench and turned his face to the sky. The sun beat down upon him, warming his body even as it burned his failing eyes. Two more days until Natalie. It was so late now, there was no point in telling her. She’d find out on Monday, and if she couldn’t cope and walked away, then so be it.

“Luc.” Sarah jogged his attention, and he turned toward the direction of her voice. “Call Molly. She has a present for you.”

He obliged, and moments later felt something light drop onto his foot. The Frisbee. “I can’t throw it for you, Moll. I might hit some innocent passerby.” He ran his fingers through her fur, and then snorted with laughter when she turned and slobbered on his hand. “Thanks, Moll.”

A bump next to him turned out to be Sarah, leaning against the bench. “So, are you looking forward to seeing Natalie? Are you meeting at the conference or somewhere else first?”

With anyone else, he’d probably be cool and confident. With Sarah, he could be honest. “I’m cautious, I guess. This could be a disaster.”

“Or it might be the start of something special.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dropped a kiss onto the top of his head. “If it goes well, I want to meet her before she goes home again. Promise you’ll call me? If it goes badly, call me so that I can come and hurl abuse at her. Then we both get hammered. Okay?”

*

Several dogs were walked in the park, but only one golden Labrador. Natalie sat upright and stared. Just one golden Labrador, chasing a sunshine-bright Frisbee. Her heart raced, and her lungs tightened.

The dog bounded after the spinning disc and leaped in the air to catch it. That was Molly—Natalie
knew
it. And that beautiful, elegant woman might be Lucas’s sister… God, Natalie
hoped
it was his sister and not his girlfriend.

Natalie leaned forward, her hands gripping the seat. Time seemed to slow down. The dog pattered towards a nearby man, sitting with his side to her. Could it be him? He was sprawled on the bench, one arm lazily draped across the back, legs crossed at the ankle.

Natalie feasted her eyes. Tight faded denims encased long legs beneath the flat stomach and broad shoulders she’d imagined. A black t-shirt clung to clearly defined muscles, a hint of a tribal tattoo peeking out from one short sleeve. When the man yelled, “Molly,” Natalie knew for certain.

He turned to face her for a second, as though recognizing he was being watched, and the breath caught in her chest. He was gorgeous. Thick hair tumbled onto a tanned forehead, above mirrored sunglasses. When he laughed, she caught a glimpse of strong white teeth and sensuous lips. He raised a hand and idly scratched at a stubbled cheek. Relaxed, healthy, and delicious, he was more than she’d ever hoped for, and more unattainable by the minute. He looked as though he should be gracing the front cover of a magazine, not lounging in the sunshine of a city-center park.

Natalie swallowed and took a deep breath. She had so wanted to see him, and now she had. Any daydream she’d nurtured of meeting him, of forming more than a casual friendship with him, evaporated. He’d never want her. She felt sick at the prospect of a date with him, of waiting politely while he tried to make small talk until he could escape. She couldn’t do that. Better to just walk over now, say a brief hello, and then slink away and go home. She’d claim illness from the conference, and nobody would question her. She’d be telling the truth, in a way. She’d be heartsick over Lucas.

It was the oddest thing. Lucas would swear he smelled a hint of lavender drift past him. His thoughts leapt straight to Natalie, just as light footsteps approached.

“
Bonjour
. You must be Lucas?” For a fraction of a moment, he thought he was dreaming. The soft lilting tone was so familiar, he had to be…

“Natalie?” He gazed in the direction of the voice, his heart thudding painfully. What was she doing here?
Fuck
. He wasn’t ready for this.

“I saw Molly with the Frisbee and guessed it was you.”

He wanted to see her. Dazzled by the bright sunlight, he couldn’t even be sure where she stood. He angled his head and made his best guess. She sounded awkward, and panic filled him, crowding his lungs and tying his stomach in knots. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I came early. There were things I wanted to do.” Her voice changed direction, and he felt Molly shift position by his feet. “Molly is beautiful. You’re so lucky.” She sounded wistful, and he flinched at the irony of her words. Had she guessed? Molly’s harness lay on the bench next to him. She couldn’t have missed it.

“You smell of lavender,” he blurted, and felt his cheeks heat.
Great
. Now he sounded like an idiot. He braced himself for the rejection he knew was coming and sat up straight, his shoulders stiff.

“I’m glad I saw you here. I’m not staying for the conference, so I doubt we’ll have time to meet up after all.” Yeah, she knew. How fucking pathetic was he to think she might be interested? He scrambled for something dignified to say and failed. She hadn’t finished speaking. Hadn’t she humiliated him enough? “It was nice to see you at last. Let me know if you want to carry on with the lessons, but don’t worry, I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Jesus
. He longed for a giant hole to crawl into. “Just go, Natalie.” He ground the words out, his jaw rigid with tension. He stared at the ground, and dug his fingers into Molly’s fur. She whined, and he softened his grip. For Christ’s sake, she was still there.

“Have a great trip to France.  Hope you enjoy the sights.”
What
? He focused all his efforts—all his energy—on maintaining his calm façade.
Please go
, he begged silently.
Leave me the fuck alone
.

“You get the most amazing view from the Eiffel Tower. Make sure you take a camera.” She bumbled on, every word hammering another nail into his heart. He was surprised it was still beating.

*

“Are you trying to be funny?” The dark-haired woman interrupted Natalie’s awkward speech, her tone icy. “Have you taken lessons in being insulting, or does it come naturally?”

“
Sarah
.” Lucas sank his head in his hands and hunched over, as if in pain. “Leave it, sis.”

Natalie stared at them both, bewildered. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she swallowed, trying to control her wayward emotions. She was giving him a way out, so what had she done wrong? The woman stared as though she wanted to kill her where she stood, while Lucas wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I don’t understand.” Natalie’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“Just go, Natalie.” Lucas sounded exhausted. “Yeah, I should have told you, and I’m sorry. Okay? And forget the French lessons, eh? I think I’ve had enough now.” He lifted his head slightly. “Will you grab Moll for me, Sarah? I’m going home.”

Natalie had been dismissed. She stood there, ignored by the pair of them, and twisted her sweating hands together, unable to believe what had just happened. Her stomach churned so violently she thought she’d be sick. She swayed and reached out a hand to grab the bench. Lucas’s words replayed in her head. He should have told her
what
?

Sarah fussed over the dog, fitting a complicated looking harness on her, while Lucas stood, stretched, and rolled his shoulders in turn. She sucked in a shallow breath and tried again. “I promise I’ll go, and you won’t hear from me again, but please tell me what—” The words died in her throat. Molly now wore a Seeing-Eye harness, and Lucas had his hand closed around the grip. “You’re
blind
?” she breathed.

He froze at her words. “You finished now?” A muscle ticked in his cheek, and Natalie watched his free hand curl into a fist. Dear God, she’d hurt him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. All the phone calls and e-mails they’d shared, and he’d never even hinted.
Like I never told him about my scars.
She had to fix this, and quickly.

Sarah picked up a handbag, shot another killer glare at Natalie, and then turned to Lucas. “Let’s go get that drink.”

It was now or never. Natalie took a deep breath, scrubbed her damp eyes, and stepped forward. She closed her hand around Lucas’s arm. He flinched, as though she’d hit him. “I need to apologize to you. I made assumptions, and they were wrong. I’m sorry, Lucas.”

He flexed his fingers and lifted his chin. Proud. “I don’t need your pity, Natalie. Save it for someone else.” When she didn’t move, he said, “Take your hand off me, please.”

She could hear the strain in his voice, and like a light bulb switching on in her head, she knew what she had to do.

*

She held onto him. Lucas tamped down on his fury and snarled again. “Let go of me.”

“One minute,
please
.” She sounded stressed.

He wanted to laugh at the idiocy of the situation. She was going to think up some half-assed excuse…

“I had no idea. None at all. It was only when I saw you take hold of the harness.”

Huh
?

“I was backing out, because I didn’t think you could possibly be interested in meeting me. I got cold feet.” Her fingers loosened their death-grip to rest slack across his arm. “I wanted to have coffee with you, and if you can forgive me for my stupidity, I would still very much like to do that.”

It already felt as though his guts were spilling out across the pavement. Did he really want to sign up for another round of ritual self-humiliation? Nu huh.

“Lucas,
please
give me another chance. There are things I’ve been keeping from you too. We have the opportunity to be completely honest. Don’t we owe each other that?”

Despite his better judgement, he paused. “What things?” Did she already have a boyfriend? A husband?

To Lucas’s surprise, she took his hand and lifted it with cool fingers. He heard the soft rustle of fabric, felt a whisper of the softest silk, and then she placed his hand, palm down on her flesh. He almost jerked away in surprise, but she pressed down, holding him in place.

“I’ve been hiding these,” she whispered.

Curious, he stroked his fingers up and down her skin, feeling strange welts and lumps, and tiny indentations. What was he touching? “I have scars too, Lucas. And everyone can see mine.”

Natalie stood there in the sunshine, Lucas’s warm palm pressed to her forearm, and waited for him to speak.

Sarah broke the silence. “Up to you, Luc. What do you want to do?”

If he said no, Natalie would never forgive herself. It took the longest time, but he sighed eventually. “One coffee.”

“Should I come?” Sarah’s sharp words made it clear she was still not happy at his decision.

“No, I’m good. Thanks. I’ll ring you when we’ve finished.”

Natalie felt light-headed with relief.

“I’ll take Molly.” Lucas turned to his sister, so similar in looks, and gave her a faint smile. “Thanks, sis. You’re the best.”

Sarah gave her brother a hug and then left them alone.

Natalie wondered where to start. Coffee, she decided. “I haven’t been to Wellington for a few years. Is there a café somewhere close? I need to sit down and rest my ankle.”

“Yeah. We’ll go to Eddie’s.” He gave Molly’s harness a gentle tug. “Eddie’s, Moll.” The dog immediately nudged Lucas in the leg and set off at a slow walk. “She’s in training, and we’re still getting used to each other.”

The gentle pace suited Natalie just fine. Her ankle throbbed, little sparks of pain shooting up her leg, and she didn’t think she could walk much further. She felt relieved when Molly stopped and gave a short bark.

The waterfront café was small but had a vacant table in a patch of dappled sunlight, and Natalie sank gratefully onto one of the seats. Lucas sat opposite her. She picked up a menu and pretended to scan the options, while sneaking a look at him. He sat up straight on his chair, tension evident in his taut arms and tight jawline. The relaxed guy from half an hour ago had vanished.

He turned to face her. “The mochas are good here. And they do excellent
pain aux raisin
.”

It felt like a peace offering, and Natalie felt a shard of hope. They placed their orders and sat in silence again. She’d asked him for honesty. Perhaps she ought to lead the way.

*

Lucas wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to talk to Natalie. Just when had he developed such masochistic tendencies? He resolved to be polite and then walk away with his dignity largely intact.

“I can’t stand it when people pity me.” Her voice broke into his thoughts, mirroring them. “They try not to stare, but they can’t help it. Now I wear long sleeves all the time.” She sounded matter of fact, and he imagined her shrugging, as if she didn’t care. “I was driving when we had the accident. We were going to an exhibition in Nelson, on the South Island.” He heard her take a quick breath. “A drunk driver took the bend too wide, and pushed us off the road.” There was a long pause. “I was trapped in the car with my parents, and I knew they were dead. They had to cut me out.”

He couldn’t stand the pain in her voice. Without even thinking about it, he stretched his hand across the table, groping for hers. He squeezed her fingers when he found them. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how that must have been.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t move her hand away, and so Lucas kept hold of it. “I’d been with Phil for nearly two years, and we were on the verge of buying a house together. Well that fell through, as you may imagine. I was off work for months, and he didn’t cope very well. He couldn’t stand how my body looked, and so he found a new girlfriend. One that was happy to wear skimpy clothes, and who didn’t freak out at the idea of driving anywhere.” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “I’d convinced myself that, when you saw me, you’d run in the opposite direction. Or worse, we’d have a painfully humiliating drink together, while you tried to figure out how to escape.”

She was uncomfortably close to the truth, and Lucas felt guilty. “Yeah,” he said. “I thought that’s how it would happen, except the other way around—if you know what I mean.” He reflected how good it felt to be holding her hand. Something he hadn’t done with anyone since he’d been married. “I’ve been losing my sight since my late teens. It’s a genetic condition, inherited from my mother. My real mother. I’m adopted, and so is Sarah.”

“You look so alike.”

He shrugged. “Pure chance. Anyway, my wife left me when it became apparent that, not only was I never going to have full sight, but I would also go completely blind. I have a little vision left, but not much.” He felt Natalie’s hand tense beneath his own. “I would love to be able to see you, but you’re just a vague blurred shape in this bright sunlight. It’s like looking through a straw. I use modified equipment at work that magnifies my screen, and I use the same at home, which is how I can e-mail.”

“That’s why you don’t like texting?” Her voice was husky.

“Nah. I never liked texting anyway.” Natalie’s skin was soft. He shifted his hand to lace their fingers together. It felt surprisingly right. Lucas blew out a breath. He’d told her and she hadn’t run away.

“You must have thought me so rude. Your sister hates me.”

“Sarah looks out for me. We’re pretty close.”

They sat together quietly for a few minutes and sipped their drinks. Molly grunted in her sleep under the table, and Natalie giggled. “You’re right, she
does
snore.”

“Oh this is nothing. Believe me.” He smiled at Natalie, wishing he could see if she was smiling back. There were suddenly so many things he wanted to say. He was curious about her. Was she really skipping the conference, or might she stay now?

“Are you doing anything after this?” She sounded hesitant.

He’d need to call Sarah but was otherwise free for the afternoon. “Sure. What are you thinking of?”

“My father has a small permanent exhibition here in Wellington. I can’t remember the name of the gallery, but it’s just a little way around the waterfront.”

“A gallery? Are you serious? What am I supposed to do? Soak up the ambience?” He couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice and expected her to apologize instantly.

She didn’t. “It’s a lot to ask, but will you trust me on this? It’s special. Not all works of art are meant just for the eyes.”