From the Heart

beautiful than ever. It doesn’t seem possible.” He lifted his hand with the privilege of an old friend and touched her hair. “You’ve cut it.” He glanced at his aunt. “It used to be down to her waist, straight as a dime. Every woman in Harvard envied Livvy her hair.” He turned back to her. “Still, this suits you—very chic.”
    There were a hundred questions jumbled in her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask them. He looked almost the same, hardly older, though the beard he had sported in college had been trimmed down to a moustache. It suited him, sandy blond like his hair, and gave his almost boyish face an air of experience. His eyes were as friendly as ever, and his smile as enthusiastic. Five years seemed to evaporate in an instant.
    “Oh, Greg, it’s good to see you again.” This time it was she who hugged him. It didn’t matter that college was a million years behind her. It mattered only that he was there for her to touch and hold on to—someone she had known in happier times. And in sadder ones.
    “I’m going to steal her from you for a few minutes, Aunt Myra.” Greg gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before taking Liv’s hand. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”
    “Well, well.” Myra beamed as she watched them walk away. “That worked out better than I planned.” She glanced over and lifted a brow. “T.C. just came in.” Myra smiled and ran her tongue over her teeth. “I think I’ll have a word with him.”
    “Now, Myra.” Justice Ditmyer laid a restraining hand on her arm. “Don’t go stirring up trouble.”
    “Herb.” She patted the hand before she drew away from it. “Don’t spoil my fun.”
    Greg led Liv through a pair of corridors and into the solarium. “I just can’t believe it. Running into you like this. It’s fantastic.”
    “When we were in college, I didn’t know you had such illustrious relatives.”
    “I didn’t want comparisons,” he told her. The moonlight was dim, and because he wanted to see her, Greg switched on a low light. “Living up to family expectations can be traumatic.”
    “I know what you mean.” Liv wandered to one of the windows. It was an interesting semicircular room with cushioned benches and a light scent of flowers. She didn’t sit. Seeing Greg again so unexpectedly had unnerved her. Liv thought better on her feet.
    “How long have you been in Washington, Livvy?” She was slimmer now than he remembered, and more poised. Five years. Sweet Lord, he thought, it could have been yesterday.
    “Almost a year and a half.” She tried to remember the last time anyone had called her Livvy. That too, she realized, had been left in another life.
    “Aunt Myra said you were a newscaster.”
    “Yes.” She turned back to him. In the shadowed light, her beauty struck him like a blow. He’d never gotten used to it. “I’m co-anchor on the evening news at WWBW.”
    “It’s what you always wanted. No more weather reports?”
    She smiled. “No.”
    There were no rings on her fingers. Greg crossed to her. Her scent was different, he noticed, more sophisticated, less artless. “Are you happy?”
    She kept her eyes level as she thought over the question. “I think so.”
    “You used to be more definite about things.”
    “I used to be younger.” Carefully, she moved away from him. She wanted to keep it light. “So, your aunt tells me you’re single.”
    “She would.” Greg laughed and shook his head. “Whenever I’m in town, she finds an eligible female to dangle in front of me. This is the first time I’ve appreciated it.”
    “You never married, Greg? I’d always thought you would.”
    “You turned me down.”
    She faced him again and smiled gravely. “You were never serious.”
    “Not enough. My mistake.” He took her hand between both of his. It was still fine boned and fragile, a contrast to the strength in her eyes. “And you were too crazy about Doug to see it if I had been.” He saw her expression change even as she started to turn away. “Livvy.” Greg stopped her. “Doug and I are partners in Chicago.”
    For a moment she didn’t speak. She had to fight through a wave of pain for the easy words. “That’s what you both had planned. I’m glad it worked out for you.”
    “Those first few months after . . .” He stopped, wanting to choose his words carefully. “After you left weren’t easy for him.”
    “Neither were the last few months before.” She felt cold