Longing by Karen Kingsbury Page A

every moment, every line of their conversation. Her night with Cody Coleman … a too-quick hour stolen from yesterday. When she couldn’t stand the thought another minute, she headed inside. As she did she realized that watching him walk away hadn’t caused the same physical pain in her heart as before. Maybe because she loved Brandon Paul. Here alone she felt God reassuring her that she’d said the right things, made the rightchoice in loving Brandon. Because the truth was this: After only a day apart she missed Brandon, more than she had been willing to admit.
    Even to herself.

Six
    C ODY COULDN’T SEE THE END OF B AILEY’S DRIVEWAY FOR HIS tears. Maybe he’d said too much, shown more of his heart than he should’ve. He definitely hadn’t planned to tell her everything, to be so honest. But once he sat across from her, smelling her perfume and the shampoo in her beautiful hair … once he was inches from her, he was helpless to do anything but open up about how he felt.
    Exactly how he felt.
    As he drove home north on Interstate 37, he allowed the conversation to play again in his mind. The look in her eyes, the way he could still read her heart the same way he could read it when she was a high school girl. She still cared, still loved him. But her feelings were different now—that much was clear. She was in love with Brandon Paul now. Cody would respect that. It was why he hadn’t called her out on her feelings, why he hadn’t forced the issue when he admitted how he still loved her and when she couldn’t say the same back to him.
    If he hadn’t been so afraid of losing her, he’d still have her. It was the most bitter irony, and it plagued him, weighed on him. He ran over their conversation again, replayed the minutes. She’d moved on, and she’d accused him of doing the same thing, but then …
    Then, what?
    Suddenly his response was as clear as if he’d just watched a video of himself during that part of their talk. He had actuallystarted to say what? That he hadn’t moved on? That he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for Cheyenne? Which could only mean that … that he still loved Bailey. Still wanted her more than he had known until tonight.
    A sick feeling came over him and Cody couldn’t go another minute without addressing the issue. He took the next exit, turned left and then right into the parking lot of a closed supermarket. He put his car in park and killed the engine.
    If he loved Bailey, then what was he doing with Cheyenne? She’d had a headache tonight. It was why he felt okay about going to the Flanigans’ house. Cheyenne wasn’t expecting to hang out with him. And the minute he’d known that, he had run to Bailey. Again his words came back to him.
I didn’t move on …
that’s what he was about to tell Bailey. Yes, he’d stopped himself, but the truth remained and it hit him like a sucker punch.
    He didn’t love Cheyenne … he loved Bailey. The way he had always loved her. At least his heart felt that way here … now … after being close enough to touch her. Maybe he didn’t want to explain the situation, because to do so would mean first explaining it to himself. His feelings for Cheyenne had been strong from the moment they met at Tara’s dinner more than a year ago. But in light of this new realization, he couldn’t have felt love or infatuation or longing.
    Rather what he felt for Cheyenne was sympathy and concern, pity even.
    The reality of that turned his stomach and made him furious with himself. Yes, he was attracted to her and, yes, he enjoyed being with her. But all of that was still wrapped up in some sad sort of feeling sorry for her. Cheyenne had given him purpose; she’d helped him get past the flashbacks of war and the pointless way his life felt after he’d walked away from Bailey. She helped him feel less lonely, and he helped her get through missing herfiancé and then he’d stood by her during the rehab she’d needed after her car accident.
    But