Page 9 of The Apartment


  Their dinner was enjoyable, but Sean couldn’t help feeling ill at ease. He was intruding on a day reserved for mothers and their children. When he could, he made his excuses and left. He felt Hilary’s eyes follow him as he walked out of the restaurant, but he had no reassurances to offer her. He loved her, but that and four bits would buy her a cup of coffee.

  * * *

  “Sean,” Hilary cried, her eyes shining, when he came into the apartment early Monday morning. “Where have you been…? I expected you back Sunday evening.” There was no chastisement in her words, only relief and a good deal of delight. She threw her arms around his middle and squeezed tight.

  He resisted the urge to hug her, realized it was a lost cause and wrapped his arms around her waist. Closing his eyes, he drank in the warm scent of her.

  “Mom thinks you’re wonderful. We talked and talked and talked. I don’t know what you said, but whatever it was has changed everything.”

  Sean frowned. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Not according to Mom. She claims you helped her realize I was an adult now, capable of making my own decisions. It’s time to let me soar on my own power.”

  “Your mother’s a special woman, Hilary. So are you.”

  “We had a marvelous time. I can’t remember ever feeling closer to her.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.” He knew his voice sounded stiff and unnatural.

  Hilary eased back enough so she could look up at him. “Is something wrong?”

  How beautiful she was. His fingers stroked her cheek before he steeled himself and said, “I found an apartment this weekend, Hil, and I’ve already moved in.”

  “But…what about the deposit and the first month’s rent the Greers owe you?”

  “I’ll collect that later.”

  “But I thought you said you didn’t have the extra cash. You told me you couldn’t afford—”

  “I couldn’t. I got my first paycheck this Friday.”

  The sunshine seemed to drain from her eyes. “In other words, you’re outta here.” She broke completely away from him and laced her fingers together so tightly they went white.

  “I want to give us time, Hil, away from each other, so we’ll know if what we have is real.”

  “Of course it is. How can you doubt it? It doesn’t get any more real than this.”

  “What we feel might well be the result of our living together. Any two people in such close proximity—”

  “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

  Sean sighed. He’d known this was going to be hard, he just hadn’t known how hard. “Yes, Hil, that’s what I believe.”

  “But that’s—”

  “I want you to promise me that you’ll start dating other men.”

  For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. He could almost see her erecting a shield against him so he wouldn’t see her distress. “Is that what you want?” she asked, her voice a monotone of pain.

  It wasn’t, but it was the best way he knew to figure everything out. “Yes.”

  “What about you…will you be dating other women?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I see.” She did her best to put on a cheerful facade. “All right, you’re on. We’ll give it a few days—a week at the most—then we’ll—”

  “It’s going to have to be longer than a week, Hil.”

  “Two weeks?”

  “More like two months. We’ll meet at the Ritz for dinner.” He walked over to the calendar, flipped the pages and checked the date. “At seven,” he said.

  “Two months…You’re sure you want to wait that long?” she moaned.

  He nodded, thinking sixty days was an absolute minimum. “I don’t want there to be any room for doubts when the time comes. Agreed?”

  An eternity passed before she reluctantly nodded.

  * * *

  Hilary had never known time could pass so quickly. It helped that she was extraordinarily busy. She’d taken Sean at his word and dated several times. First she’d gone out with Arnold, and then someone else she’d met through Mr. Murphy at the music store. Both were very nice young men, but she’d experienced none of the spark, none of the excitement she’d had with Sean.

  She’d missed him dreadfully, and wondered about him each and every day.

  “There’s an old saying,” her mother had repeatedly told her in their weekly telephone conversations, “about setting someone free, and if he returns, it’s meant to be.”

  “There’s also an old saying about hunting him down and making his life miserable if he doesn’t,” Hilary reminded her.

  Louise laughed. “You do love him, don’t you, sweetheart?”

  “Very much.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do if he finds someone else he loves more?”

  Hilary bit into her lower lip, refusing to entertain the notion. “It won’t happen.”

  “I’d hate to see you hurt.”

  “I’m not exactly looking forward to that, either, you know.” Hilary felt closer to her mother in the last two months than ever before. She had Sean to thank for that, and she would thank him when she saw him again.

  “Whatever happens, you know I’ll always be here for you.”

  “Yes, Mom, I know. We’re here for each other.”

  * * *

  The evening she was scheduled to meet Sean arrived bright and clear. He was waiting outside the restaurant for her, pacing the sidewalk, looking a thousand times more handsome than she remembered. Her heart was in her throat as she approached him. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides for fear she’d reach out and touch him, and she dared not.

  “I’m not really hungry,” she said, glancing toward the restaurant door. “How about if we go for a walk instead?”

  “All right.”

  “So,” she said when they’d gone about half a block. “Did…you follow through with your word and date other people?”

  He nodded. “Dozens. What about you?”

  She nodded. “Two.”

  “Arnold and who else?” he asked brusquely, then apologized.

  “Carla and who else?” she answered.

  He laughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “Well,” she said, when she couldn’t stand it any longer, “what do you think?”

  “That I could get accustomed to listening to symphony music.”

  “What about becoming accustomed to the third-chair flutist?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know how it happened, Hilary, but you’re in my blood. The hell if I know what I’m going to do about it.”

  It was just what Hilary had been waiting for. Before another moment could pass, she launched herself into Sean’s arms. “You idiot, there’s only one thing to do about it. Marry me.”

  His thick arms circled her waist and lifted her from the sidewalk. “I guess there’s no help for it. I’m crazy about you, Hil.”

  At once laughing and fighting back tears, she spread eager kisses down his face. “Can we call my mother? She’s sitting by the phone, waiting.”

  “She is?”

  “Of course she is. I know my mother.”

  * * *

  Hilary and Sean were married five months later in December. The church was decorated in a profusion of red and white poinsettias. When it came time to give the bride away, Louise Wadsworth stood, and with happy tears in her eyes, whispered, “I give my daughter.”

  It was just another small step like all the others she’d taken over the years in learning to let go.

  * * * * *

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  Debbie Macomber

  National Bestselling Author

  Sheila Roberts

  Discover two heartwarming tales in one stunning collection!

  First Comes Marriage by Debbie Macomber

  Janine loves her grandfather but balks at his plan to choose her a husband. Zach, the intended groom, has recent
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  Sweet Dreams Chocolate Company has been in the Sterling family for generations, but now it looks as if they’re about to lose it to the bank. Unfortunately, the fate of Sweet Dreams is in the hands of Samantha’s archenemy, Blake, the bank manager with the football-hero good looks. It’s enough to drive her to chocolate.

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  ISBN: 9781488024658

  The Apartment

  Copyright © 1993 by Debbie Macomber

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  Debbie Macomber, The Apartment

 


 

 
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