Loving by Karen Kingsbury Page B

out.”
    “Maybe not.” He came to her and pulled her into his arms. “If you’re in Bloomington and I’m here … that could never work forever.” His voice dropped to a whisper and he used his shoulder to catch another tear. “I have to be here. You know that.”
    “Maybe I’d only stay in Bloomington for a few months.” She felt like she might be sick. They walked together back to the sofa, sat down, and faced each other, their hands joined once more. As Alex maneuvered the boat back into the harbor, the ride grew smooth again. Up ahead in the dock parking lot Bailey could already see two black cars waiting near the marina entrance.
    Paparazzi.
    “I don’t know how to do this.” Now the tears were hers, andshe blinked twice so she could see him clearly. “I want to be with you.” She studied him, holding on to him with her eyes. “I love you.”
    “Then stay.” He swallowed hard, clearly trying to gain control of his emotions. “Stay, Bailey.”
    “I’m not sure I can.” An avalanche of sorrow crashed in around her. She nodded to the waiting photographers. “Look at them.”
    There was nothing else to say. Brandon searched her eyes for a long time and kissed her, a kiss that hinted at defeat and goodbye. For now anyway. Their tears ran together, and Brandon put his arms around her, holding her close until they felt the boat come to a stop in the slip. Brandon paid the captain and they gathered their things. Brandon seemed determined not to let the paparazzi see them struggling. He forced a smile as they stepped out of the yacht, and he put his arm around her as they walked back to his car.
    “Smile. Please, Bailey.”
    “I am.”
    The photographers stayed in their cars this time — their view of Bailey and Brandon exiting off the yacht unhindered. Bailey could feel the cameras trained on them, hear their shouts. The pressure to look happy made her feel like she was playing a role, and along with that came worse doubts. Crazy, irrational thoughts like maybe her whole relationship with Brandon had been nothing more than her own happy movie, and now … well, now the movie was over. Fade to black and roll credits.
    The paparazzi didn’t follow them to the private parking garage, apparently content to chase them wherever they were headed next. When they climbed into the car and the doors were shut, Brandon turned to her. “Can I ask one thing?”
    “Of course.” The sadness between them was almost more than she could take.
    “If you leave Monday, can I drive you to the airport?”
    “Yes.” She leaned closer and hugged him for several seconds. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see this coming, Brandon. Really. But if it’s just for a few months maybe it makes the most sense.”
    He hesitated, but his eyes told her there were no guarantees. “I get it.”
    They were alone in the dark of the parking garage, the paparazzi waiting for them out on the street. So here, at least, this was real. For a couple minutes no one was taking pictures or tracking their every move. “I’m not breaking up with you.”
    He started the car and backed out of the space. A quick glance in her direction told her that she didn’t need to verbally break up with him. Her actions would do that all on their own. The minute they were out in the open, the photographers were at it again — three cameras aimed out the windows of the car shooting in their direction.
    Brandon acted like he didn’t see them. He kept his expression the same, distant and desperate, as he drove by. Immediately the paparazzi flipped a U-turn and began following them. But Brandon didn’t go faster. He only kept an even pace. “They can crash into us if they want to.”
    Bailey flipped down the mirror in her visor and studied them. “They’re too close.”
    “We’re fine. They won’t really hit us.”
    But Brandon’s refusal to react to the photographers didn’t ease Bailey’s fears. The paparazzi were willing to drive crazy, pulling into the