Page 277 of Unexpected Heroine

Before speaking, I shimmy to press myself flush against him. “The thing is, babe. Although Viktor had my name, he still didn’t break me. I was foolish to think my name could protect me. A name isn’t a weapon or armor. It’s just a name.”

The lines around his eyes redden. “Lettie, I think I know why I lied about my name.”

Slinking my fingertips through his hair, I lean my forehead on his. “Tell me.”

Even if I already know.

“It’s the same reason I find it hard to believe Big Al loves me. Why it’s easier to believe my coworkers teasing is out of malice or hatred of me, rather than because they’re treating me like they treat each other. Like siblings. A family.”

“Go ahead and say it. I promise I won’t see you any differently.”

His nostrils flare with a ragged inhale, and the fingertips resting around my waist dig in deeper. “When we met, I’d already fallen halfway in love with you. From watching you. And I didn’t think there was any way Violet Anastasia Holt could ever love Tomer Stillman.” Another deep inhale, and his chest quivers against mine. “Because... because...”

He can’t finish, so I do it for him. “Because your father made you feel unlovable.”

Through anguished nods, he adds, “He said I’d always be alone. No one could ever love me. I was a freak. Ruined everything. He said I didn’t deserve a name. That’s why he called me boy. Like our dog. The one he wouldn’t let me name.”

If his dad wasn’t already dead, he would be as soon as I found him. Lettie the Lamb would become Violet the Vengeful.

A choking sound emanates from the back of Tomer’s throat. He’s so dead set on holding in his emotions it’s literally clogging his airway.

I don’t hide my tears or try to hold them back.

Holding him and loving him the best I can, I simply cry and release my sorrow. Each tear that falls carries with it pieces of sadness that would darken my soul if I didn’t set them free.

If only he could do it too.

Sure, he cried on the day I left him. A few other times since my rescue. But that was because of what was happening to me or out of panic that I was leaving him. Tears of desperation aren’t the same.

He needs to cry for himself. For the loss of his youth. That’s where his darkness stems from.

And I get it. He was never allowed to experience emotions as a child. Grew up thinking he wasn’t lovable. Why would you want to feel anything when all you knew was hate?

And yet . . .

I gather my composure with a series of intentional breaths. “Tomer, you know what?”

He wipes away my tears again, gazing into my eyes with hope reflecting in his. “What, sugar bear?”

“I come with good news. Not the church kind.” I chuckle at my dumb joke, then quickly continue, “Your father was wrong. You aren’t unlovable. You aren’t a freak. And you damn sure won’t be alone if I have anything to say about it.” I squeeze him with my thighs, matching the pulsing of my arms to wrap him up as tightly as I can. “Despite knowing your name, whether he used it or not, he didn’t break you.”

“Lettie, I am broken,” he contends.

“Not the way I see it.” I caress his cheek, speaking softly and honestly. “You learned how to love. He taught you hate, but you still love. Bigger and deeper than most. I’ve felt it since the day we met. Safe. Cherished. Loved. Because of you. Not James. Tomer loved me.”

“Lettie, could you ever love me back? The real me?”

Attempting to stifle my sass, I bite my lip. It doesn’t work. The brat must brat.

“Are you blind, old man?”

Our tension melts into soft chuckles.

I release my lower lip from between my teeth. “Can’t you see I already love you?”

“Seeing it and believing it are two very different things. I’m trying, but I’m still cold,” he taps his fist to his chest, “in here. Cold and dark.”

“You said I’m like the sun for you, right?” Lowering my palm to his chest, I place it directly over his heart, hoping to spread some of the warmth he says I bring him.

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