He took her hands and raised them to his lips. Leigh saw too deeply into him and he wasn't certain if hr liked her examining his fears, or his guilt. And he had spread them before her, stark and painful. His passions, yes, of course—she should have that part of him. But he was uneasy about the softer elements that ran like a current through him, nagging...
"Come home with me tonight."
She nodded toward the cradle filled with photographs and mementos. "Bring these. I want to know the woman you loved."
"She believed in the Hawaiian's curse. Maybe it's true." Jarek looked out to the night, where the moths were beating against the screens, trying to come to the shop lights. "Is it so important?"
"I think so. I want to understand her."
Just touching Leigh, placing his forehead against hers helped. "Sometimes there was no understanding her—or myself. I should have done something. I didn't —Annabelle is dead now."
