Текст книги "All of Me"

Автор книги: Kelly Moran

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

chapter

twenty-seven

To say he woke up the following morning wouldn’t be accurate, because Alec had never fallen asleep after they’d made love. He’d lain awake all night, watching Faith sleep, stroking her arm, wishing she hadn’t actually said the words he knew to be true. Almost wishing she didn’t mean them. Except he wanted her to feel the same, and the utter fullness that encompassed his heart wouldn’t allow him to reject the gift she’d given.

He hadn’t told her he loved her back, not because he didn’t, but because it wouldn’t change anything. And Christ in heaven, he loved her more than he loved any one thing or person. More than his need to write, than air, than his own troubled life.

Regardless of everything they’d been through, he hadn’t loved Laura. Not like this. Not to the point he’d crumble to ash without her. That’s how he knew it was real with Faith. Because he hadn’t actually missed Laura. He’d just harbored the guilt and sadness for what could have been. What happened to her was tragic, and he’d give up just about anything to undo that day. But that wasn’t possible.

He wasn’t out the door yet, and he missed Faith.

The pink hue of dawn peeked through her window and the squawk of seagulls told him he’d put things off long enough. They’d said their good-byes last night. There was no need to drag this out and make it harder on her.

Carefully, he slid from the bed and tucked her arm under the sheet. He dressed quietly, watching her, because he couldn’t seem to stop. She was beautiful in a natural way. Without makeup and frills. She didn’t need them. He didn’t have a picture of her—and that was probably a good thing—so he’d take this mental image with him.

He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the little charm he’d bought for her bracelet weeks ago. Even then he’d known. In fact, he was pretty damn sure he’d loved her the second her amber eyes met his that day on the beach.

Striding into the kitchen, he scratched one word onto a piece of paper and headed back to put the note and the charm on her nightstand.

Closing the front door behind him was the hardest thing he’d ever done. A panic attack nearly made him turn around, but somehow he put one foot in front of the other.

He walked across the drive, attempting to let the heat and humidity soak into his bones. The effort was fruitless. He had a feeling he’d never be warm again. When he made it across the mimosa grove and onto the other property, Jake was leaning against the hood of Alec’s car with his arms crossed, eyes tracking his movements.

Alec schooled his voice to resonate a calm he didn’t feel. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, making love to your wife?”

Jake offered a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. I did. Many times. And I have the whole honeymoon to keep doing it.” He straightened. “I wanted to see you off.” He pulled Alec into a hug that had the air whooshing from his lungs. “I love you.”

Alec gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. “Jesus, man. I love you, too.”

Instead of preaching at him like Alec expected, Jake pulled back and smacked his shoulder. “Drive carefully.”

Alec made no promises, and a week later, as he sat in his home office in his New York apartment, thought it was probably a good thing he hadn’t. Alec had almost no memory of the drive back and only a vague recollection of what he’d done to pass time since returning. It was as if someone had vacuumed out his soul. There was nothing left. He should be appreciative for the shocking numbness, but that would take effort.

He knew he’d written the first two chapters of the next book, because they were on the computer screen, but damn if he knew how he’d managed it. It wasn’t a half-bad start either. Only minor tweaking needed.

He’d eaten whatever his housekeeper put in front of him, not that he’d tasted anything. Coffee kept his brain going, because if he stopped drinking it, he’d fall into bed, where the sheets still smelled like her. Which was probably all in his head, because their trip to the city had been weeks ago, yet he hadn’t allowed the housekeeper to change the sheets because . . . shit. They smelled like her.

Sighing, he threw his pen down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. He pressed his palms over his eyes. Groaned. Wanted to weep.

Fuck this. What he needed was air and to be outside of these walls. The torment of missing Faith would never cease if he kept this up. He was one step away from being loonier than his characters.

He strode into the living room and stopped. Tilting his head, he examined the creepy as hell room he’d hated since the minute the decorator finished with a flourished wave of her hand.

One by one, he took down the posters and framed covers, tossing them into a pile in the middle of the floor. The sculpture was next. Raising it over his head, he dropped it on the frames, satisfied when the glass cracked and the sculpture shattered. He shredded the cushions on the red couches with a screwdriver and sat back on his haunches, breathing heavily.

Anger was better than feeling nothing. There was production in anger.

Paint. He could change the wall color himself. Yes, he needed paint. A lot of it to cover the dark, slate-gray cavern. Something happy. So fucking happy it made his teeth ache. Like the mint green of Faith’s bridesmaid dress.

Growling, he grabbed his keys and slammed the door behind him so he could go to the hardware store. To not buy mint-green paint.

He needed this. A mindless task that involved physical work. Maybe that would eradicate Faith from his head.

Except, as the taxi dropped him off and drove away, Alec stood on the sidewalk facing Laura’s nursing home. A pleasant twenty-bed facility with white trim and shaded by sycamore trees that he had no intention of ever setting foot inside again.

He froze, his joints locking and his limbs nothing but deadweight.

Blackouts and missing time were the first signs of insanity. But no. He wasn’t crazy. He was desperate and lonely and missing home. This was where he was supposed to be, even if his subconscious knew it before he did.

It was time. Long past time.

Nausea rolled in his gut and threatened to choke him as he made his way to the front desk to sign in. The white halls and antiseptic smell were the same, as were the simplistic pictures and the pounding of his heart behind his ribs.

Out of respect for her parents and because visiting would serve no purpose, he hadn’t been here since the day she’d been admitted. He paid the bill once a month and called the nurse weekly, as a formality. Unless they read his books, no one here knew his face.

Her room at the end of the hall was the nicest money could buy, even though Laura would never be able to open her eyes and see it. Pink curtains shielded the harsh sunlight coming from the window just feet from her bed. Against the wall were beeping monitors and a pump bringing oxygen to her lungs. Cards and stuffed animals dotted every square inch of available space.

He stood just inside the doorway until he could force his feet to move to her bedside. The short, wispy strands of blond hair had grown out to shoulder-length—gone were the dyed pink tips she’d preferred. The luscious curves that had first drawn him to her were withered to an almost skeletal state. They had her dressed in a blue blouse she would’ve hated and a loose pair of white pants. A capped IV was in one arm and a catheter bag hung on the opposite bed rail.

Because his legs could no longer hold him, he sat on the side of the bed by her hip and lifted her cool hand. He swallowed hard, taking in the tracheotomy tube protruding from her windpipe.

“Hey, Laura. It’s been a long time.”

Of course, she didn’t respond, but talking to her gave him an odd sort of comfort. He rubbed circles in her palm with his thumb, remembering she used to like that small touch. Her fingernails were neat and clean. Before her accident, she was always elbow deep in acrylics while working on a canvas. It was strange, seeing her hands without at least some dried paint around the cuticles.

“Jake got married. I went home for the wedding. You would’ve hated it. Elegant and traditional. It was really nice, though.”

He sighed and gathered his wits to tell her everything. She may not be able to hear him and understand, but that didn’t make the telling any easier on him.

“I met someone in Wilmington. Her name’s Faith and she’s really quiet. I know, a total contrast from you, but we . . . fit somehow. She has this crazy way of drawing out the best in people. Somehow, she found some good in me.”

His breath hitched and his voice cracked, sending tears pouring down his face. “I tried not to fall for her. Honest, I did. But she’s so damn lovable.” He wiped his eyes, but more tears came anyway, so he gave up. He felt like his chest was cracked wide open, splitting his ribs and exposing all the ugliness inside. “Even my dad loves her. But, Christ. Her own damn parents don’t. I know we complained about ours a lot, but hers take the cake. They made her believe she was invisible. I mean, she did nothing but love them and give them everything she had, and they just . . .”

He stilled as his voice trailed off, his gaze landing on the wall, eyes not seeing what was in front of him. Rather, the image of Faith’s face at the moment she had bravely confessed her love floated in his memory. Even when she knew he’d leave. Even though she knew he might not say it back. Even though no one had ever shown her any real version of love in her own life.

“They let her go. Just like I did.” Cementing her belief that she wasn’t someone worthy of their love. That no one would stick because, hell, everyone in her life walked. “I’m no better than they are.”

Slowly, he moved his gaze back toward the woman in the bed. Adrenaline tore through him, making his body shake. “I guess I really came to say good-bye.” He sniffed and blew out an uneven breath. “I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of, however long you’re here. You’ll get the best of everything. Always. But I can’t do this anymore. You and I . . . we never would’ve made it. And to keep lying to myself, to keep holding the guilt inside over a mistake you made while too young and swamped in grief, wouldn’t be fair to Faith. Or myself.”

Though it hurt to let go of her hand and lay it gently on the bed, hope bloomed in his chest. It had been so long since he felt it that he almost didn’t recognize it. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I wish you well, Laura.”

*   *   *

Mia shoved another Tootsie Roll in her mouth and spoke around it. “Are you sure you don’t want one? Candy therapy works wonders.”

Faith leaned back on the Adirondack chair on the deck and forced a smile. She’d been doing that for a week, forcing a smile. Love wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. It was supposed to be joyous and everlasting.

Love wasn’t supposed to sneak out before dawn and leave a heart-shaped charm for the bracelet it bought you with a note that said, Always.

She sighed. “You and baby are craving the sugar. I’m good.”

Mia had been coming by to keep Faith company in the evenings, after she was finished working with Ginny. Lacey and Jake were due back from their honeymoon any minute now, but Mia had taken it upon herself to be Faith’s babysitter so she wouldn’t wallow too deep in misery while they were gone.

It was nice of Mia to try and make her feel better, but nothing was going to accomplish that. Alone or with friends, busy or bored, Alec was there, hurting her all over again. Hurting himself. When would this end? When would the pain stop?

“Why don’t you go back to Charlotte for a couple of days?” Mia suggested. “Maybe the comfort of home will help.”

“There’s nothing there for me.” Another realization she’d come to this week.

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Alec had wanted her to cling tight to her friendship with Mia and Lacey. He was right, too. Her friends should know more about her, other than that she had a sister who died. Opening her eyes, she looked at Mia and spilled her guts.

“So, there’s no one but you guys. My parents will always be my parents, but they’re not you guys. I’m better off in Wilmington.”

Mia took her hand in hers and squeezed. “Then here you shall stay. You’ll always have us.”

Appreciative that Mia didn’t barrage her with questions or sympathy, Faith looked at the ocean. Sunlight hit the waves and reflected. A few sailboats dotted the horizon. Calming as the water was, it, too, only reminded her of Alec.

“I think I need to find my own apartment.” There wasn’t anywhere on the estate she could go that didn’t tie back to a painful memory. She’d miss waking up to this view, but she needed a change. She couldn’t keep going on like this.

“I’ll help you look for a place, if that’s what you want.”

Faith didn’t know what she wanted, besides Alec. And she couldn’t have him.

Mia leaned forward. “My mother was an alcoholic. I think she drank to forget about the pain, until one day she got so deep in the bottle no one could get her back out.” She sighed and glanced away. “Like your parents with you, she never formed a connection to Ginny. I don’t know why. Maybe because of her depression or Ginny’s disability, who knows. I tried to make up for that by being everything Ginny needed. I had no support system and no backup plan.” She trained her blue gaze on Faith. “And then I came back here. It wasn’t easy, and there was a lot standing in our way, but Cole loved me. The rest of it didn’t matter. My mother’s inability to love wasn’t Ginny’s fault, and it’s not your fault either that your parents are incapable. They’re the ones with the loose wire, not you.”

Faith didn’t know what to say, other than Mia and Cole were perfect for each other. Ginny was darn lucky to have Mia. It took a lot of strength to not only carry on, but to carry someone else when there was nothing left. She knew Mia was right, too, but it was hard to argue the point when her parents had been perfectly capable of loving Hope.

Regret and understanding shone in Mia’s eyes. “You just need one person, Faith, to make you believe in yourself. One person to make you believe you are someone. Because you are someone. Don’t doubt that for a minute.”

Lacey swept around the house and onto the deck, holding several shopping bags and a brown paper-wrapped package. “I’m suntanned and I’m exhausted.” She plopped onto a chair. “Honeymoons are awesome.”

Mia grinned. “Sounds like you had a fabulous time.”

“It really was spectacular. What’s wrong?” Lacey zeroed in on Faith.

Before she could answer, Mia filled in the gaps for Lacey.

“Oh, sweetie.” Lacey jumped off her chair and wrapped her in a hug. “Jake didn’t tell me Alec was already gone. I thought he’d wait until we got back . . . never mind. How are you holding up?”

“I tried to offer candy therapy, but she refused.”

Lacey peeked into the nearly empty bag. “Craving much?”

Faith laughed, for the first time in too long. “She’s been eating them day and night for the past week.”

Lacey patted Faith’s knee. “I have something that might make you feel better. I meant to give it to you before the wedding, but things got crazy with last-minute details.” She lifted the package and handed it to her. “It’s sentimental, so be prepared. I just . . . I hope you like it.”

Faith accepted the package, confused. “You didn’t have to get me anything. What’s the occasion?”

“Consider it a late birthday present. It’s not exactly store bought.”

Lacey and Mia exchanged a look she didn’t understand, so Faith tore into the wrapping.

The instant she recognized what she was looking at, tears blurred her vision. She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Oh. Oh no. I made it worse.” Lacey moved to sit next to her, their hips brushing. “I painted it, so I can destroy it. Don’t cry.”

“I . . . love it.”

Through the watery haze of tears, she looked at the image of herself and Hope smiling on the canvas. Faith recognized the pose as one from a photo taken in the hospital. The one sitting on her fireplace mantel. Except in Lacey’s painting, Hope had all her hair and the beach spread out behind them.

“Sweetie, stop crying,” Lacey said. “Are you sure you like it? I won’t be offended.”

Mia came over and sat on her other side. The two people she’d grown to love as if they were her own sisters sandwiched her in a hug.

Hope would have loved them, would have loved this place.

“I love you guys. Thank you, Lacey. This is perfect.”

chapter

twenty-eight

Faith sat on the edge of her bed, phone clutched in her hand and the portrait Lacey gave her a few days ago in front of her for courage. Sunlight spilled into the room through the window at her back, the warmth calming her nerves.

Alec was right. It was time to stop wasting her time and thoughts and efforts trying to make her parents love her. Time to stop offering her heart to those who would never accept it. She’d spoken to her parents twice since Alec left, and both times the conversation had been shallow and brief. She’d tried to talk about Hope, about her feelings, but they’d rushed her off the phone.

She sucked in air and connected the call. Her parents’ answering machine kicked in, playing their greeting. Right about now, Dad would be picking up Mom from choir practice, so it was the perfect time to leave a message. If she waited just ten more minutes, they’d be home. Mom would make lunch and Dad would start a pitcher of unsweetened tea. They’d stand side by side in the kitchen, as they did every day, barely conscious of each other.

The beep startled her and she fisted her pendant in reflex. “Hi. It’s me.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to leave a message like this, but when I try to talk to you, you don’t let me. I just . . . I want you to know that I loved her, too.” She pressed her hand over her eyes to try to combat the tears and get through the message. “I miss her, too, and I’m sorry, so sorry I couldn’t save her like you wanted.”

She rose and paced the floor, pausing a moment to catch her breath. “I even understand why you did what you did. But she died and I didn’t. I’m still right here and all I ever wanted was for you to love me half as much . . .”

Cutting herself and that thought off, she shook her head. “None of that matters.” Her gaze dropped to the bracelet on her wrist. “I fell in love. I wanted you to know. It’s the best and worst feeling imaginable. And I’m going to miss Hope every day, but I’m moving on. I love you.”

Her voice cracked as she disconnected the call. Hot tears trailed down her cheeks as her chest released a violent sob. She curled up on her bed and wept. Soul-jerking tears that she had subdued for too long. She pressed her face into the quilt and let go.

Afterward, as her cheeks dried and the vise in her throat eased, she vowed to shed no more tears for the past. If it took all her energy and years to accomplish, she was going to move on. She had wonderful friends, a job she loved, and the ocean to heal her when things became too overwhelming.

When she thought she could manage, she got up and padded down the hall to the kitchen to start a kettle for tea. A knock on the front door came as she took a bag out of the cabinet. She wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not Jake, as she opened the door.

“Hey.” He rocked on his heels. “Mia said you were on the market for a new place?”

She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Um, yes. I’m not in any hurry, but I planned on looking for an apartment next week.”

He nodded and swallowed, seeming nervous. “I think I found the perfect spot. Are you up for a short drive?”

“Well . . .” She glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen. What the heck? She needed to get out of the house anyway. “Sure. Just let me turn the burner off.”

Pocketing her cell and keys, she moved the kettle and switched off the stove.

They climbed in Jake’s pickup truck and made their way down the drive.

He turned the radio down. “It’s not far.”

“Okay.”

She tilted her face toward the window and the trees whizzing by for all of thirty seconds before Jake pulled into another driveway. She lifted her brows in question.

“Told you it wasn’t far.”

A house came into view. It resembled something more appropriate for the mountains than the beach, and it needed a lot of help because it had obviously been left unattended for a long time, but she liked the unique architecture. The front porch wrapped around both sides. Unlike Lacey and Jake’s house, or Cole and Mia’s, this one was higher up on the bluff. Behind the house, the ocean gleamed in the sun for as far as her eye could see.

“Jake, I can’t afford this.” By like five million dollars or so.

He turned to her but didn’t meet her eye. “Just trust me. Let’s go take a peek.”

Sighing, she followed him out of the truck and over the broken concrete driveway. Palm trees, mixed with pines and overgrown fauna, surrounded the property. The porch seemed sturdy. The exterior was in decent shape. Considering it was composed of logs, it didn’t need paint.

Instead of knocking, Jake turned the knob on the front door and stepped inside. “Come on.”

“Jake, we can’t just walk into someone’s house.”

“It’s been in foreclosure for years.” He rolled his eyes when she still wouldn’t budge. “Come on, darlin’.”

She stepped inside and through a small foyer to a living room that was way bigger than it looked from the outside. A floor-to-ceiling redbrick fireplace was situated in one corner. To the right was a staircase and straight ahead the kitchen. Nearly the entire ocean side of the house was glass. There were hardwood floors throughout, although they needed to be refinished. Two small rooms with built-in shelves were off the living room, and she imagined they’d make a great office or library.

Jake hurried her along to the second floor and pointed out three bedrooms. “The master is through here.”

Again, she wondered what they were doing here. Never in her wildest dreams could she afford this house. It was lovely and full of promise. It spoke to her of serenity and just enough seclusion to be comfortable. But still, it could never be hers.

She walked into the master bedroom and gasped when she saw the wall-to-wall windows. The ocean spread out before her, and a set of patio doors led out to a porch. It was so amazing her eyes misted. Oh, to have this view every day . . . Not that she could.

Jake cleared his throat from behind her. “Do you like it?”

“Yes. I love it . . .” She turned and the words died in her throat. The blood rushed through her veins with such force that the roar in her ears deafened.

Jake slipped from the room.

Alec crossed his arms and smiled. “I’m glad you like the house. Because I bought it.”

*   *   *

Faith stood staring at him through those round amber eyes that he missed with every beat of his heart, and he knew he hadn’t prepared himself enough for what seeing her again would do to him.

Ten days. Ten of the worst goddamn days of his life he’d spent away from her. It was an eternity as far as he was concerned. His hands itched to touch. His arms needed to hold. But he stayed where he was—he had to follow the plan.

“Alec?”

Her mermaid voice whispering his name was nearly his undoing. He took a step forward.

“What are you doing here?” She fisted her pendant. “Wait? You bought the house? This house?”

Distracted by the way the light softened her pale skin and haloed around her body, he almost didn’t answer her question. He’d missed her freckles, too. Every last one of them.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. I bought this house. Would you like to know why?”

She nodded and ran her hand across her forehead as if not believing her own eyes.

“I pictured you opening your eyes every morning here in this room, with the view of the ocean you love so much, and you’d smile as you woke up. You would drink your tea out there on the deck, shaking your head at me for eating a donut and guzzling coffee. You do have much healthier eating habits than me. I may try to break you of some of those in the next thirty years.”

Her eyes went from wide to bulging. “Alec—”

“Not done.” He nudged his chin toward the hall. “The three other bedrooms are to fill with kids. Loud, energetic little monsters with my sense of adventure and your big heart.”

Her gaze darted to the doorway and then back to him. “Kids?”

He shrugged. “I prefer three, but we can negotiate.”

“Three kids,” she mumbled, her tone indicating she wasn’t fully caught up to him yet. His Faith, ever surprised.

Though he grinned—because damn, she was adorable all flustered—his heart was pounding a mile a minute. There was no guarantee she’d want the same things. The option of a future together hadn’t been a possibility before, and now that it was and he was doing his spiel, he was in full freak-out mode. He had to make her see, make her understand, there was no future for him without her.

“Can you follow me downstairs? I can tell you the other reasons.”

“Oh. Yes. Sure.”

With her following silently at his heels, they descended the stairs and stopped in the living room. “I’d like to tear down the wall between those two rooms and make it one so I can use it as an office. On your days off, you could snuggle on an oversized armchair here and read a book while listening to me type. I know you like the sound because you get this little smile on your face when you hear me working.”

The confusion in her eyes began to clear, and was replaced with hesitant optimism.

He waved his hand toward the kitchen, indicating she should precede him. After only a moment, she walked around the corner and then came to an abrupt halt.

Her gaze swept the room, taking in Cole, Mia, Lacey, Jake, Ginny, and both his parents. Slowly, she craned her head around to look at him.

Alec came up behind her and dropped his hands on her shoulders, touching her for the first time since being home. He brushed his thumbs over her soft skin and inhaled her sugary scent. The pull was still there between them, stronger than ever, even with her in shock at finding the others waiting in the kitchen.

He kissed her temple and spoke into her hair. “The house can hold our whole family. For get-togethers or holidays. Whatever. Not only the family in front of you, because make no mistake, they are your family now, but also the family we can build together. The one I want to make with you.”

She emitted a choking sound—of disbelief or joy, he wasn’t sure. Her hand flew over her mouth, then both hands covered her face. Her shoulders shook with a sob.

Alec darted a quick glance at Jake.

Jake shrugged, looking just as lost.

Alec blew out a breath and dug in his pocket. “Turn around, Faith. Please, look at me.”

She dropped her hands and moved to face him, her teeth working her lower lip and doing everything in her power to hold off the tears. Her eyes shimmered, pleading with him.

“I said good-bye to Laura while I was in New York. I should’ve done it a long time ago, but I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t met you yet.” He dropped his forehead to hers and swallowed past the lump. “I put my apartment on the market. The bank accepted the offer I put on this house. The house I want for us, because I don’t ever want to be away from you again.”

He edged back far enough to hold out a little black box between them. It held an antique ring with a tear-drop diamond. The beauty was in the intricate gold band, as the carvings and design were similar to her pendant’s. It wasn’t big, nor was it flashy. It was perfect for Faith. Delicate and unique. An old ring because she was an old soul.

Her chest stopped rising and falling. Her eyes grew huge.

“I love you, in case you hadn’t figured it out. Marry me?”

Her gaze lifted from the ring to his face, exploring every inch as if searching for a lie. One day, if it was the last thing he did, she’d look at him and accept that she was worth the moon and more. In the meantime, he’d work at it for as long as it took. Forever if he had to.

I love you, he mouthed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re my one person.” She smiled and took his face in her hands. “Mia said it only takes one person to make you believe in yourself. You’re my one person. I love you, too. So, so much. Of course I’ll marry you.”

The air whooshed from his lungs. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to her toes, smacking a kiss on her lips. They had an audience behind her—an audience who was cheering like fools—so he’d do a proper kiss later. In private. All damn night long.

“I love you, Faith.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her again, wishing like hell the others would just go away for a while. Two weeks. A year, tops.

Jake laughed. “You had us worried there for a minute, Faith.”

“Yay.” Lacey clapped. “A baby shower and a wedding to plan. I can’t wait to get started.”

Faith laughed, but her gaze never left Alec’s. “I can’t wait to get started, either.”

Congratulations went around many times over as he slid the ring on Faith’s finger. Cole warned them to be careful of how much leeway they gave Lacey in planning, and Mia waved her hand, dismissing his concerns. His parents chimed in, chatting about venues and ideas for the house.

But in Alec’s opinion, Ginny said it best.

“Welcome to the family.”