Page 111 of Strictly Pretend

“But you tried. You tried so hard.” I stroke her hair. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either.”

“Maybe it doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” I tell her. “Maybe that’s not what this is about.” I’ve been thinking about this for the entire flight. I couldn’t do anything but think about Emma. About us.

“What do you mean?” she asks me, her expression soft as her eyes catch mine.

I don’t look away from her, even though I feel more vulnerable than I ever have before. More than when I was told I couldn’t have children, or when I broke Lianne’s heart.

“I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding difficult situations,” I tell her. “I’m not good at asking for help. Or admitting I’m wrong.” I take a deep breath, looking at the face of the woman I’m head over heels in love with. “But I’m going to try, I really am. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I need your help making it better.”

“You need my help?”

“I need you to bear with me. To work with me. To talk to me.”

She nods. “It’s difficult, trusting somebody when you’ve been hurt so many times.”

My chest tightens. Because I know how many times she’s been hurt.

“So I need you to bear with me too,” she says. “I’m not used to having somebody to depend on.”

“You can always depend on me. I promise.” I tip her face up until she’s looking at me. My eyes search hers before she gives me a nod. “I love you,” I tell her, my chest so tight it’s hard to breathe.

For a moment she says nothing, her eyes searching mine like I have all the answers. But I don’t. I’m not sure I ever did. I just know it’s the truth.

“I love you too,” she says, and it feels like fireworks are exploding inside me.

“Thank you,” I murmur, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how good it feels to hear that.”

Then my mouth brushes against hers. She grips my shirt and rolls onto her tiptoes, kissing me harder.

Making me complete.

This woman who howls at the moon and drinks whiskey from a bottle is the answer to all the questions I never knew I had. For a moment our mouths press against each other. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And it’s heaven.

“How’s your dad?” she asks when we part.

I blink. “What?”

“You and he… did you part on bad terms?”

God, this woman. She’s actually worried about my relationship with the man who did her wrong. “Yeah, although he called a minute ago. To apologize.”

She rests her face against my chest. “That’s good. I hope you accepted it. Family is important.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that. My brothers all worked so hard to get me here fast. I owe them.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “They love you. Of course they’d do anything for you.”

“I’d still like you to meet them. If you’d like to, I mean.” I’m stumbling over my words now, because I have so much to say.

“How would I meet them?” She asks me. “As a friend? A tenant? Your girlfriend?”

“My fiancée.” I look at the ring that’s still on her finger. “You didn’t take it off.”

Not even when my stupid decisions led to this.

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