Chapter 2

“People fight sometimes. When something really matters. When they’re passionate. That doesn’t mean you get to just run away.”

“But I’m not,” Dario said, without thinking. The words contained a simple truth that he couldn’t deny, but that didn’t mean Ruby needed to hear them.

“You’re not what?”

“Passionate.”

Ruby was silent for a long moment, then released a slightly shaky breath. “I see. So, this is it? This is the end?”

“Of this particular conversation. I’m here now. I’ve signed my contract, and I’ve found a place to stay. There’s really not anything left to discuss.”

“We were going to be married,” Ruby said. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It did. It does. This doesn’t have to…change anything. It’s just a job, Ruby. You can fly out to California and visit me.” The words probably sounded as hollow as they felt. Dario was still staring at the church, shining so bright in the midday sun that it actually was starting to hurt his eyes.

“No, Dario.” Ruby sighed, and now he didn’t think her eyes were flashing anymore. She sounded as tired as he felt. “It changes everything. When you’re in a relationship with somebody, you just don’t do whatever the hell you want and expect the other person to just accept that. I don’t know why I called. I guess I was hoping it was some sort of mistake.”

A single white puff of cloud floated in front of the sun, momentarily casting both Dario and the church in a shadow. He blinked, and the church looked normal again. Not shining with any great, awesome light. He even noticed that a few of the flowers were wilting on the side of the building, and there were patches of brown in the grass.

“I am sorry, Ruby. I really didn’t mean to…”

“Yeah, I know. Have a nice life, Dario.”

He didn’t feel particularly numb when he slipped the phone back into his pocket. He’d had at least twenty variations of the same conversation in his adult life. The names changed, as did the details, but overall, it was the same conversation. Dario suspected he would be unnerved if a relationship didn’t end in that conversation sooner rather than later. It just seemed to be the way of things. He couldn’t hand over every part of himself. There were elements he held close to the chest. Memories and emotions and certain, basic truths that he didn’t share. In fact, he couldn’t even let on that they existed at all.

He wasn’t shocked, but he did need a drink. He took a step forward, closer to the church, and imagined letting himself into the building. Imagined what it would be like to step into a strange building that seemed completely familiar to him. It would probably be exhausting, and definitely be disappointing. The cloud passed overhead and he turned on his heel, heading back the way he came. There was a bar on the edge of town that looked like the sort of place he needed. He’d down a couple of beers, have a plate of nachos, then drive himself twenty miles up Interstate 5 to the motel room that would be home for the next six months.

* * * *

Dario didn’t stop at two beers. He had fully intended to. But he was thirsty, and every time he thought about the church, he heard Ruby’s voice, and that prompted him to take long, deep swallows. Like a dying man at an unexpected oasis. When he reached the bar, there had only been two people in the place beside him. But as the sun began to set and more people filtered in from the surrounding fields and construction sites, the place filled up quickly. Dario didn’t see any reason to move from his stool at the corner of the bar.

Nobody in the room bothered him at all. The women kept their distance—he supposed he didn’t exactly look like a good catch at that moment—and the men were most interested in the women. All except one, who sat at the other end of the bar and occasionally studied Dario from beneath a thick fringe of lashes.

Dark blond scruff shaded the strong jaw, though it couldn’t hide the cleft in his chin, or the lines around his mouth. Fresh sunburn reddened his cheeks and the powerful forearms that rested on the edge of the counter. He worked outside. His gray T-shirt was the common costume for the men in town, the beer in front of him the common escape. But his interest in the others seemed fleeting, like he watched them all from behind a wall of glass, a spectator of the world rather than a participant.

One of the waitresses brought a plate of chili fries and set it front of the stranger. Dario couldn’t hear what was being said over the music blaring from the speakers in the far corner, but he saw the man shake his head and gesture toward Dario instead.