Free Damsel in Distress by Liz Stafford Page B

wham-bam-thank-you-sir situation and wasn’t sure how to react. Should he say thanks? Ask for an encore? Invite her out?
    More than anything he felt hurt. In his mind, he’d been formulating their future. Planning what colleges the kids would attend. She’d only been…what—thanking him for helping with the aquarium?
    She held the door open, an expectant expression on her swollen lips.
    “Carmen.”
    “Shawn, you were great.”
    “Carmen, I—”
    “Don’t say it, Shawn. I don’t believe in relationships. I’ve seen too many bad ones over the years. People always get hurt.” With that, she nudged him in the stomach with the palm of her hand. He fell backward into the hall. The door shut in his face.
    A door opened down the hall. A curly redhead poked out. He stepped away from the door so they wouldn’t think he was trying to break it down. After all, she’d screeched like a banshee less than five minutes ago. Dejectedly he strode to his car.
     

Chapter Three
     
    Carmen leaned against the door, feeling his warmth oozing through from the other side. She knew he was still standing there, waiting, hoping she’d have a change of heart. But she’d told the truth; relationships only resulted in hard feelings, sometimes going as far as people hating each other. Even Shawn. As nice as he’d been, going above and beyond, and helping with the new tank, he’d laughed at her relationship with the fish. Didn’t he realize how much they needed her, how much they relied on her for every single thing in their lives?
    Briefly she considered the hurt she’d perpetrated on Shawn. She’d seen the flash of emotion in his eyes. He’d wanted more from her.
    No. She couldn’t give more. It was better this way. She waited till his car drove away and then went to sit in front of the newly set up tank. So far, all nine remaining damsels seemed okay. The vet had warned that she might lose more. She watched, eyes burning, alert for anything that might mean one was failing.
    Carmen awoke on the floor, her face jammed against the wrought-iron leg of the aquarium stand. She turned on the light atop the tank, the bright fluorescent illuminated the sparkling white gravel. All the fish still swam straight and true. The vet had said it would take three days for them to recover from the shock. Today she’d replace the decorations and plants that Shawn had rinsed in her kitchen sink to be sure no shards of glass remained. Again, she felt a bit sorry for sending him away.
    She called in sick to work so she could watch the fish’s progress and redecorate the tank. After breakfast and a shower, Carmen taped the background picture of a tropical beach on the back side of the tank. She pushed the colorful brick castle and the pirate treasure trunk deep into the gravel so they wouldn’t tip over on the fish. The trunk had a hole in it so the fish could swim past the fake jewels. Next came the plants. Three went back in nicely but two had died during the night. Carmen was halfway to the pet shop when she realized Shawn might be there.
    Oh well, he was a smart man; she’d made it clear how things had to be. By this morning, the pain would have dulled and he’d be recovered. With any luck, he wouldn’t even be there today.
    But he was. And he saw her the minute she stepped through the sliding doors. The fish room was downstairs. Carmen made sure not to make eye contact with Shawn as she walked on silent Converses to the stairway. She stopped a moment at the saltwater tank built into the wall. Six neon damsels swam happily there. She’d bet they’d never suffered the way her babies had.
    “How are your fish this morning?” asked a soft, too familiar voice.
    She spun around. “They’re fine so far. Two of the plants died though.”
    He took her hand. “Come on, I’ll help you pick out some more.” He led her to the far left wall where several tanks of plants glimmered in the fluorescent lighting.
    Shawn began naming the different