He holds out a matching wedding band to me. “Forever. I need forever with you, because I haven’t been happy when I haven’t been with you.”
I find my hand reaching for it even before my mind fully engages and processes what he’s said. The ring sits there in my palm, a mate to the one now on my finger.
I guess I’m silent for too long because he drops to his knees again, his hands resting on the tops of my thighs.
“I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I was stupid, and I was wrong. I let my mother guilt-trip me to take this job and I thought I could convince you to leave Maudlin Falls and want to be with me. But I had it all backward—I never should have left here, or you. This is where I belong, and I always have.”
When I meet his hazel gaze I see the pain there, the longing.
The grief.
Once again, my mouth engages before my brain. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you before?”
“You were, baby. I was stupid. Really stupid. Never should have left you. I will go to my grave hating myself for walking away from you and for the time I wasted between us.”
This feels…too easy? Is that what I’m looking for?
I don’t know but with my head pounding it’s hard to think. Heck, it’s hard to listen to him without wincing. He’s not screaming but my ears feel like they’ve been turned up to eleven.
Jester twines himself around my feet, then rubs his head against Desi before looking up at me and maowing. Like even my cat’s asking me to give Desi another chance.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. My heart wants to say yes and jump at this. My head says slow down because I’ve been emotionally scorched once already by this man.
The gold band warms to my touch. I roll it between my thumb and index finger as I struggle to process all of this. I know he wants me to put it on his hand right now, to reassure him that everything’s forgiven, except I need more.
I can’t manage anything over a whisper. “How do I know you won’t leave me again? How do I know there’s not more to this I’m not seeing right now? If this were someone else telling you about their ex suddenly reappearing and proposing, would you tell them to jump for it, or wait? Honestly?”
He sadly sighs. After he takes the glass from me and sets it on the table, he cups my hands again. “I would tell them to be very careful and take their time,” he says. “I’d tell them to guard their heart and make him work hard to earn it back.”
I force myself to look him in the eyes again. “Then why should I trust you yet?” Another thought hits me. “How many guys have you slept with since me?”
Despite the pain in his expression, I don’t take the words back.
I can’t.
“I’ve dated a few guys, yeah. But none of those relationships lasted. Mainly because I couldn’t make myself sleep with them. I couldn’t see myself with them. Every single guy, I compared them to you. None of them could come close.”
A shaky breath escapes me in a whoosh. “How many guys?”
To his credit I can tell he doesn’t want to discuss this, but he answers me. “Five. Two I only dated a week each. Two of them lasted nearly a month each. The last guy, Freddy, is the son of a friend of my parents and he works at the firm. We dated nearly two months. I broke up with him three weeks ago. I didn’t sleep with any of them, I swear.”
It takes everything in me not to shove his hands away. “Can you see where I’m suspicious?”
“I can, and I don’t blame you for it.”
Silence settles over us for a moment. “You going to ask it?”
He slowly shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. You had every right to live your life after I walked away.”
“No one,” I tell him, feeling the jagged edges of the bitter words rasp against my tongue even as I hurl them at him. “There was no one for me. Not even just dating, not even to have coffee or dinner with. You know me. You know I don’t enjoy being around most people, especially strangers, and by myself.”
He squeezes my hands once more. “I’m sorry, baby. In the beginning, I thought I’d be able to convince you to want to move with me.”
“I won’t give up the store. I haven’t changed my mind there. If you want me, that has to be good enough for you. This is my life, and my future. You have to live here, with me, because I’m never leaving this town.”
He nods. “I know. It wasn’t fair of me to ask it of you, either.”
Damn him for shooting down every last one of my protests.
Damn him for taking responsibility and completely absolving me.
Damn him for making this stupid-easy in a dangerously comforting way.
I gently disengage my hands from his and twist the ring off my finger, holding both gold bands in my palm. “I can’t tell you yes today,” I finally say despite my heart screaming at me to throw myself into his arms. “But I’m not telling you no. I’ll tell you not yet. That’s the best I can do right now. I don’t know how long it’ll be, or what it’ll take, to turn that into a yes. That has to be good enough for you for now.”
He eagerly nods. “I’ll take anything, baby. Anything. As long as there’s hope, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
That word cuts into my soul, too. “How many of them did you call ‘baby’?” I don’t bother keeping the bitterness out of my tone. I think I’ve earned the right to be petty.
“Only you.”
To the best of my knowledge he’s never lied to me. I don’t want to think he’d start now, when he knows if he did and I discovered it that I’d never give him another chance. “How do I know when you leave here you won’t change your mind again?”
To his credit he nods. “You don’t. I’ll work my ass off to regain your trust. I do have to go back to Miami at some point. I need to empty and sell my condo there, and I have to sell the apartment in New York.”
I don’t know if I want to get my hopes up. At one time, this man was my forever. I’ve cried a river of tears worthy of the falls outside of town over him.
“Where are you staying right now?” I ask.
“I have a room over in Sarcan. The motel there.” I’m pondering my next statement when he adds, “If you don’t want me to stay here, I’m okay with that. No pressure. I didn’t want to assume anything.”
Overwhelmed, I close my eyes again. “Let’s start with breakfast and could you please grab me some Tylenol from the cabinet? And more water?”
He kisses me on the forehead. “Absolutely, baby.”
I sit there, eyes closed, trying not to hope.
But it’s darned hard not to.
Chapter Ten
Desi
Tom hasn’t thrown me out of the house yet, so I consider that a huge win. He also doesn’t make me take the rings back. Instead, he sets them on the table while I bring him another glass of water and the Tylenol.
Not going to lie—it stings that he won’t wear them right now, but I get it. That he didn’t throw them at me is a win I’ll greedily accept.
His bloodshot brown eyes still look gorgeous to me. I’m finally able to stare into them again in person.
I’ve dreamed about this day. I mean, I didn’t think he would be hungover and feeling like crap. I had pictured it a lot more romantic.
Still, I’ll take it and give thanks for it.
“Are you hungry? I was making us French toast but I can make you something else. Anything you want.” Yes, this was calculated on my part. It was his favorite breakfast and he loved when I made it.
He nods and sips some water before downing a couple of the capsules. His gaze doesn’t focus on mine like I wish he would, either. “I should be able to eat that.” He won’t look me in the eyes and that stabs at my soul.
I hurt the man I truly love. “Do you want coffee? Or can I make you a cup of hot tea?”
He points to the pantry. “There’s a box of peppermint tea in there. Maybe I should start with that. And some ginger ale, too, please. In the fridge.”<
br />
I retrieve the box of tea bags from the pantry, leaving the door open because I’ll need to get the syrup out for the French toast. Then I nuke a mug of water in the microwave for his tea. I get a can of ginger ale in the fridge and pour it over ice for him.
The whole time I’m dodging Jester, who wraps himself around my feet. I fed him earlier so I guess he’s forgiven me for my long absence.
“Oh, I need to give him a can of food,” Tom says.
“Already done. I didn’t want him to wake you up. He followed me down here when I got out of bed.”
He’s holding his glass of ginger ale in both hands and slowly nods. “Thanks.”
I could stand here all morning staring at him, but I know that’s…creepy. Instead, I return to what I was doing while he sits back in his chair to watch me cook.
I’ve missed cooking. We used to cook together all the time, me normally taking the lead. I’m a better and more adventurous cook than he is, and it used to be one of our favorite things to do together.
After I moved to Miami, I didn’t want to cook for only myself. It was too depressing and reminded me of Tom. Sometimes, I’d cycle through anger at him for not wanting to leave Maudlin Falls, and anger at myself for walking away from him.
Yeah, I’ve stacked some paper and built a healthy retirement account for myself, have a nice car that’s paid for, a closet full of expensive suits, and a condo in Miami anyone would kill to live in, but there’s a major problem with all of that—none of it means anything without Tomas in my arms, at my side.
Sharing my bed with me.
I will never walk away from him again as long as he lets me stay.
It’s obvious Tomas doesn’t feel up to talking right now, so I resume my breakfast preparations. I’d hoped to surprise him with breakfast in bed this morning.
Once I finish cooking, I plate everything and bring it over to him at the table, where I sit across from him. Belatedly, I realize we’re occupying our usual places where we always sat to eat.
Before.
So much of my life’s been trapped in stasis without him in it.
I risk reaching over and stroking the back of his hand. “I mean it. If you’ll take me back, I promise I’m here to stay.”
He still won’t look me in the eyes. “I need time, Des,” he eventually says. “I survived being hurt by you once. I can’t go through that again.”
We eat mostly in silence. I can tell he’s feeling like crud and I don’t press him for more.
I do note how he keeps glancing over at the rings, where he set them on the table.
When we finish eating, he starts to rise to help me with the dishes but I reach over to stop him. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you go relax?”
“What about filing the paperwork?” he asks. “You need to get started with that, don’t you?”
“I have time to do the dishes first. It’s the least I can do. Why don’t you go grab a shower? It might help you feel a little better. Relax. Take a nap. I’ll let you know once I’m done with my paperwork.”
Tom slowly nods. “Okay. Thanks.”
He stands and stares at the rings for a moment before picking them up and leaving the room with them in his hand, which leaves me fighting the urge to jump for joy and punch the air.
Yes!
Pressuring him for an answer will absolutely not work. But if he’s holding on to the rings, it means he’s probably halfway to trusting me again.
I hope.
* * * *
It only takes me a few minutes to clean up the kitchen. I’m nearly finished with the dishes when I hear a loud clunk that startles me.
I turn and see Jester in the pantry, standing on one of the higher shelves and staring down at the floor.
“What are you doing, goofball?” I walk around the counter island and realize he’s knocked a jar of peanut butter onto the floor.
Thankfully, it’s a plastic jar.
He maows at me as I reach in and extricate him from there before he can knock anything else off the shelf. After setting him on the floor, he immediately darts over to the jar and starts batting at it with his paws.
“Dude, no.” I take it away from him and when I straighten to put it away, he leaps at my hands, like he’s trying to snatch the jar from me.
“No!” Still I laugh, because he’s adorable. I’ve really missed him.
I replace the jar and manage to keep him out of the pantry as I shut the door. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Maow!” He sounds indignant and sits there, tail flicking as he glowers up at me. Like he’s mad that I took a toy away from him or something.
“Sorry, but I need to get this work done. It’s important.” Upstairs, I hear the shower start.
Good, because Tom looked pretty rough there by the end of breakfast. I’m hoping he’ll lie down for a nap and relax. Then, by the time I’m done, he might feel a little better so we can talk more.
If he feels up to it.
I won’t pressure him to talk, or to forgive me and “move on.”
I know I hurt him. That means doing this at his speed, and in his way. No rushing in the world will help.
Although the fact that he still hasn’t thrown me out hopefully bodes well for my chances.
I make myself another cup of coffee and set to work after checking my e-mail on my work cell. I have a couple of phone calls I need to return. And there’s a text from Freddy on my personal phone, sent late last night after I’d already come home with Tom and put my phones on chargers down here.
Greeeat. Like his calls, Freddy’s texts are also silenced and easily ignored, unless I happen to look at my phone and see them.
His whiny tone comes through even without hearing his voice.
Your mom called me today and we talked. I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me. I know whatever this is, we can work it out. How many times do I need to apologize? Will you PLEASE call me?
The last thing in the world I want to do is talk to Freddy.
Make that the third-last thing, followed by talking to my mother right now.
The absolute last thing I want to do is to ever leave Tom’s side again. Meaning I need to have a talk with Tom in detail about Freddy, just in case my ex decides to start trouble.
Once word of what I’ve done to bork this deal spreads around the office, it will upset Freddy and make him look bad. I have a suspicion—a near certainty—that Freddy will try to start trouble between me and Tom.
He’s always been inordinately interested in my relationship with Tom. Obsessed, if I’m being honest. He probably thought if he knew more about that time of my life, it’d help him figure out how to get into my bed.
The problem is Freddy is a liar and not the most ethical person. I couldn’t trust he wouldn’t cheat on me. On top of the fact that I wasn’t super-attracted to him because he’s kind of a douchebag, the cumulative effect chilled any romantic ardor I might have summoned for him. Literally, the only reason I stuck it out as long as I did was to keep my mom happy.
I delete the text and start with my work calls so I can quickly wrap those up and resume my research to complete these forms. I’m actually paying for all the filings on my personal credit card, not the business one. I can afford it, for starters. It’s the least I can do to hopefully begin steps toward making amends with Tom.
Burying myself deeply in this work, I don’t realize Tom’s standing in the kitchen doorway and watching me until I look up when I hear Jester maowing.
“Hey. Feeling any better?” I ask. He looks a little better.
He nods and walks over. He’s handsome even in a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt, and with his brown hair damp and mussed from the shower.
Freddy’s never caught dead without his hair perfectly coiffed and usually wears pretentiously expensive clothes, even when dressing “casual.”
I’ve missed Tom’s comfortable style. The way he always accepted me as I was. Never a raised eyebrow or snide remar
k if I decided I wanted to wear jeans somewhere. Or, heaven forbid, shorts.
When I open my arms wide, he steps into my embrace and I tightly hold him, my face pressed against his stomach. Feeling his arms drape over my shoulders is incredible beyond description. The sweet scent of his laundry detergent and fabric softener mixed with his soap and shampoo hits me and nearly drives me to happy tears.
That was something else I didn’t realize how much I’d missed, the wonderful way he always smelled. Even using the same products didn’t make my clothes smell the same. I think it was due to the water in Miami, maybe.
God, I’ve missed him.
“Am I disturbing you?” he asks.
“Never, baby.” I tip my head back to look into his eyes. “This is the best day of my life.”
He plays with my hair, the way he always did. There were plenty of times in the early days when I sat here working in the kitchen and he would stop by to check on me. Later, I tried not to bring work home so I could be fully focused on him when I was here.
My guy lets out a sigh. “I’m going to need to get my truck later. Feel like driving me?”
I eagerly nod. “Absolutely.”
“Not right now,” he adds. “Once you’re at a stopping point.” He glances at my laptop. “It can wait until later.” I don’t speak because I sense he has more to say.
Sure enough, he does.
“It doesn’t make any sense for you to stay in a hotel. We’ll be almost to Sarcan, anyway. You can get your stuff and bring it back here. If you want to.”
My throat goes dry, hope coursing through my veins. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He plays with my hair again. “I can’t promise you when I’ll be ready to move forward again, but I want you here. This process won’t go any faster for me if you’re staying in a hotel. And I kind of feel like I got cheated out of my reunion snuggles last night.” A playful smile curves his lips.
How Many Times Do I Have to Say I'm Sorry? (Maudlin Falls) Page 8
