No One But You

She swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “How about you? How long were you married?”
    “Ten years. Delanie was my college sweetheart. We met in a sophomore economics class. And before you start sympathizing with her, let me tell you we had some good years.”
    “I can see it in your eyes. You were happy.”
    “We were. I did my best to be a good husband. I worked hard on that knowing-it-all and ruling-the-world thing.”
    “But it wasn’t enough?” she asked gently.
    He ignored the hitch in his chest and took a swallow of water. “No matter how hard I tried, no.”
    “I know how that feels. A failed marriage is a lot to go through.” Unguarded green eyes met his and locked.
    Wow, he thought. The recognition he’d always had with her flared to life. Like recognizing like. Nothing registered—not the noise from the kitchen or the rise and fall of surrounding conversations—nothing but her.
    It’s more than the past pulling you. He gave his head a shake, wishing he could feel something alive in his heart. But there’d been too much grief and too much loss. He feared nothing could live there again.
    The waiter finally returned with a basket of bread sticks and their drinks, giving Wyatt time to regroup. “Why did you decide to work at Mary’s Place?” he asked, reaching for a bread stick.
    “I founded Mary’s Place.”
    “Wow, that couldn’t have been easy. It must have taken a lot of dedication and sacrifice.”
    “It was worth it. Mary’s Place is named in honor of one of my best friends, who survived her abuse with dignity, grace and courage.” Mariah stirred the straw around in her glass, not looking at him. “I met her at the women’s shelter where Jake and I lived for two months.”
    “Two months? You mean you were…”
    “A victim of domestic violence. Yes.” Mariah reached for a bread stick, needing something to do with her hands. This was hard to talk about with Wyatt. From the start she hadn’t wanted him to know the truth. Maybe she feared his pity.
    “I had no idea.” Understanding, not pity, resonated in his words. “I wish you hadn’t gone through that.”
    “It was long ago, when Jake and I lived in Toronto.”
    “Toronto?”
    “Jasper’s company had transferred him there.”
    “You were alone without family and friends nearby?”
    “It’s water under the bridge.” She broke the bread stick in half, relieved. Shouldn’t she have known Wyatt would understand? “I like to think it’s why I’m good at my job. I care, and I know how it feels to have someone chip away at your sense of self one piece at a time, hurting you. That’s why it’s important to have a safe place to go where you can heal and build yourself up. That’s why I’m so grateful for the land donation—“
    “You don’t have to thank me again. It was a parking lot I wasn’t using.”
    “It will make all the difference. We’re bursting to capacity. There’s so much need. When the construction is done, we’ll have the space to expand the programs we offer. I—“
    “Mariah. I hope you haven’t become like me, letting work, even good work, become your whole life.” Wyatt reached across the table to cover her hand with his.
    “Not exactly. I…” She tried to ignore the stun gun shock of his touch and the caring in his eyes.
    “Here’s your large pepperoni and green pepper pizzas.” The voice came out of nowhere. Mariah blinked, grateful for the interruption.
    “Thanks, Leif.” She pulled her hand gently from Wyatt’s.
    “Do you need anything else?” The teen set the pies on the table and backed away. “No? Just call me if you do. Enjoy.”
    “I should have known this is what you ordered.” Wyatt grabbed the server and scooped up a big, cheesy piece. “Pepperoni and green paper is still my favorite, too.”
    “Our first date.” The words felt torn from her raw throat. “You took me out for pizza and a school basketball game.”
    “I remember like it was yesterday.” He slipped the first piece onto her plate, his attention solely on her.
    The boys bounded over and dropped into their chairs, reaching for slices. The conversation turned to sports and video games, and yet the closeness she felt to Wyatt remained.
    Unbreakable.
    * * *
    “…and then your mother turns to me and says, ‘Wyatt Royce, don’t you have any common sense?’” He signed the credit card slip with a flourish, continuing the story. “And I’m lying there on the gym floor, looking up at