Page 115 of Impossible Love

I try to say something and choke.

“May I come in?” He’s so calm, so reserved, so beautiful.

I’m on fire inside. “Cal?”

He laughs softly.

“What the hell are you—”

“Stop, please, Victoria. I need a couple minutes of your time, and after that, you can throw my ass out. Or you can call me every name you can think of and if you run out I can give you some fresh options and then you can throw my ass out. Or you don’t have to say anything at all. Whatever you want to do to me, you have the right. But please, let me say some things first. If I don’t say them, I’ll be haunted by my silence for the rest of my life.”

I feel too weak to stand, but I manage a nod.

He takes a few steps into the apartment, glances around to see it empty, and frowns. Then he readies himself to speak. “I am sorry, Victoria. I am profoundly sorry for being such a selfish know-it-all asshole, for not believing what you were telling me, for thinking the worst about you when in here”—he taps his chest—“I knew you were innocent. I just couldn’t hear the truth in my heart because of all the shouting going on inside my stubborn brain.”

My eyes widen. This is what I’d wanted. This is the only thing I’d asked Cal to give me. I would have stayed with him the rest of my life had he said these words.

But he hadn’t.

And now I’m torn. Yes, just a few moments ago I’d been fantasizing about driving up the ranch road, stripping down, and lying in wait in his hot tub. But that’s just a fantasy. This is real.

Cal MacLaine stands just feet away, waiting for my reply. Is it too late to forgive him? Am I a generous enough person for that? Am I strong enough to risk my heart again?

Everything about him seems to reflect sincere humility. The tilt of his head. The sorrow in his expression. How he’s unsure what to do with his hands. I realize that I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve only seen Cal in three modes—angry, sexually charged, or Alpha male no-nonsense-got-it-all-under-control with a touch of grumpiness.

But I’ve never seen this. If Cal had traveled with a hat, he’d have it in his hands right now.

I open my mouth to speak, but he stops me.

“There’s more to this apology, and I need you to hear all of it. Then I’ll go.”

I manage to croak out, “All right.”

His face twists in emotion. “Victoria, the first time I laid eyes on you, it felt like a live wire had been inserted under my skin. You were the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen, even in those dumb-ass shoes. But I absolutely hated how sure you were that you’d get my family to roll over on Sulfur Springs.”

I nod. I’d been so wrong.

“And then, before I even realized what was happening to me, I found that I was enjoying your company. I came to appreciate your smarts, your kindness, your willingness to help out, and the way you made me laugh.”

I remember what Phyllis said to me the morning I left Yosemite Ranch: “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him laugh the way he does when you’re with him.” Maybe it’s true.

“And I recently learned what’s happened here…” He looks around at my empty condo again. “You are one brave badass of a woman, Victoria, braver than some SEALs I’ve known. And I am in awe of you. I’m so proud of who you are. It couldn’t have been easy.”

My jaw comes unhinged.

“Now for one the last part…” Cal looks down at his cowboy boots, sniffs in a deep breath, and looks up at me again. His violet eyes are so intense that they look black in the daylight. “I love you, Victoria Backlund.”

I hear myself gasp.

“I fell in love with you in San Francisco. I’m still in love with you. I’ve missed you so fucking much this last month that I…” He stops, shakes his head. “That’s all I wanted you to know. That I love you. That I’m deeply, truly sorry, from the bottom of my heart. That I know how badly I fucked up. That I lost you because I deserved to lose you. And I want you to know that I will treasure the short time we had and everything you taught me.”

I finally stand, rigid. I’m in shock.

Cal gives me a small, sad smile. He waits for me to say something, but I don’t. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me, but no words form in my mind or come out of my mouth.

I must be terrified. If I tell him to go, I could be making the hugest mistake of my life. If I forgive him, I could be making a different—but equally huge—mistake. There’s no guarantee he won’t crush my heart again.

But I’m locked up. Paralyzed with uncertainty.

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