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It fell short.

She folded her arms around her middle. She hadn’t eaten all day, yet she didn’t feel hungry. If anything, the nervous vibration in her stomach made her feel as sick as Sylvie had looked. “I’m in a position to talk to Dryden, to understand the way he thinks, maybe even to find out who the copycat is and where he is holding Nadine Washburn. I can’t leave. You of all people know that.”

“Nadine Washburn?”

“The woman who disappeared from the laundromat.”

“You’ve already decided that she’s the one, huh? Last I heard, Perreth was still reviewing security cam footage from the area.”

“She’s the one, and my father is going to help us find where she is.”

“You have a very optimistic view of what Dryden is going to let you learn.”

“Optimistic?” She threw up her hands and let them land against her thighs with a stinging smack. “We have to use what we can get, don’t we?”

“Within reason.”

“What’s reasonable? Or maybe you should ask Nadine Washburn’s mother that question.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “If Nadine has been abducted by the copycat, I want to save her every bit as much as you do.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Then what’s your point?”

“I know what it’s like to be tied to a bed in the darkness waiting to die. I know what she’s thinking. I know what she’s feeling. I’m the only one in this room who truly understands what’s within reason and what isn’t.”

Bobby’s face went rigid. “I understand perfectly. I was there when you were kidnapped, remember? I might not know what Nadine feels, but I more than understand the pain her mother is living through. The worry. The helplessness. The guilt.”

Obviously somewhere in his last monologue, Bobby had stopped talking about Nadine’s mother and started describing himself. “Why on earth would you feel guilty about last fall? Vincent Bertram nearly killed you.”

He shook his head slowly, his black eyes boring into her. “Losing you nearly killed me.”

“Bobby, don’t.”

“I’m sick of pretending that you breaking off our marriage was good for both of us. Ever since you walked into that damn diner this morning, all I can think about is how I shouldn’t be seeing the way you brush your hair from your cheek or hearing that tremble in your voice when you’re frightened. Or your scent… God, I certainly shouldn’t be leaning toward you every chance I get just to breathe you in.”

She turned away from him. She wanted him to stop. He had to stop. She couldn’t hear this.

“Damn it, Diana. When you’re around, I can’t see anything but you.”

“Then why did you insist on going with me? Why didn’t you let Val handle my meeting with Dryden? Or even Perreth?”

“You haven’t heard anything I’ve said, have you?”

On the contrary, she’d heard every word, every hitch in his voice, every loaded pause. She could feel the intensity of them vibrating in her bones. “I’ve heard enough to know we shouldn’t be together.”

His footsteps sounded behind her. He gripped her arm and turned her to face him. “Losing you once almost killed me. Losing you, to Dryden, to the damn copycat…”

His face was so close, she could reach out her hand and trace the line of dark stubble on his cheek. She could lean forward, just a little, and find herself in his arms.

“It’s not going to happen. And the only way I can make sure it doesn’t is to be next to you when he tries.”

She looked down, unable to peer into his eyes one second longer. She’d been an idiot to think anything between her and Bobby wouldn’t be personal. Looking at him across a crowded room would be personal.

“I can’t go back, Bobby. You say you almost lost me; well I lost myself long before our wedding day.” That is, if she’d ever found herself in the first place.

Diana could feel his gaze on her, his eyes searching, struggling to understand.

She didn’t know if she could help him. Not any more than she’d been able to when she’d given back his ring. Even after months of therapy, she wasn’t sure she understood any of this herself.

But she had to try. It was only fair to him that she try. Taking a deep breath, she met his eyes. “I’ve always been what other people wanted. My adopted mother. My adopted father.”

Bobby’s face grew hard, as if he sensed what was coming.

“You.”

“I never asked you to be anything but who you are.”

She longed to run her hand along his cheek, to smooth away the hurt, to take back the words. But she couldn’t let herself. She had to tell him the truth. At least the small part of it she had figured out.

Diana took a step to the side, putting a little more distance between them, hoping it would help her think. “I know you never asked me to be what you wanted. You never even told me what you wanted. Not in words. You didn’t have to. I sensed it. I gave you what you were looking for before you even knew you wanted it.”

“We were happy together. We loved each other.”

“I loved you.”

“But you don’t believe I loved you?” His expression didn’t change, but anger sharpened the edges of his voice.

“I never gave you the chance. I never even let you know who I really was. I was afraid to.”

“Afraid? Why?” He took a step toward her, the lamplight behind him casting his face in shadow. “I didn’t do anything to make you afraid.”

“I didn’t say you did, Bobby. It’s me. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. I make myself what others want me to be.”

He watched her under lowered brows.

She couldn’t tell if he was following her or not, but she had to push on.

“I suppose it’s how I survived as a kid. My father… my adopted father wouldn’t hurt me if I could just do what he wanted. Be what he wanted. And it became my way of dealing with the world. At least that’s what my therapist helped me uncover. I didn’t even know I was doing it until I was tied up in that dark cabin waiting to die. I had to draw on myself to survive. On the strength inside me.”

Diana closed her eyes. The room spun out of control. Just like the days and nights in the cabin. The raw vulnerability. The fear. “Bobby, there was nothing there.”

“You were frightened out of your mind, Diana. Anyone would feel that way.”

She opened her eyes and focused on Bobby. “You would never feel that way. You know who you are. You know where your strength lies.”

“I’m a detective. I have training to fall back on. It’s not the same thing.”

“Sylvie didn’t feel that way. Or Bryce. If they had, we’d all be dead.”

He closed the short distance between them. Reaching out, he touched her arm. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I’m being realistic.” She forced her mind closed, shutting out the sensation of his fingers on her skin. “I never made decisions for myself. My adoptive father dictated how I should feel, how I should think, what I should do. My mother went along with it.”

I never dictated anything.”

“No. You fixed things for me. You took care of me.”

“And how is that bad? That’s how a man should treat the woman he loves.”

Loves. Not loved. As if Diana had to wonder how he still felt about her. Or at least, how he felt about his idea of her. “I have to learn to take care of myself.”

That wasn’t quite right. She tried again, groping through her mind for an emotion just out of her grasp. “No, I have to feel like there’s a me inside worth caring for. A me that isn’t dictated by my need to please others. A core me.”