Page 134 of Gone With the Wine

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I already hated Stephanie, but now I do even more.”

I let one side of my mouth hook up at that. “My self-image had already taken a big hit after retiring. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I felt like nobody. Then…when you get cheated on, it feels like there’s something wrong with you. And it was with someone I knew, who I thought was a friend, and they’re still together.” I shake my head. “I didn’t want to talk about it at all.”

Her eyes slowly close, then open again. “I…yeah. I felt hurt that you didn’t tell me, though. I felt like you didn’t trust me, or care enough about me to talk about things like that, when I’d shared so much with you.”

“Fuck.” I groan miserably. “I am so, so sorry. Hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do. I was being a selfish dickhead. I thought making myself vulnerable would get me hurt. And yeah, that happens. But…” I drag a hand down over my face. “The other thing I did in LA was see the therapist I worked with. She told me…when you don’t let yourself be vulnerable, you’re basically telling yourself you’re not worthy of acceptance and love. Like, it’s the opposite of what you think. You think you’re protecting yourself. But when you open up, you make the conscious decision that what you’re showing other people is worthy.” I blow out a breath, my heart rampaging in my chest. “For a long time I didn’t feel worthy. But then I spent time here, making friends, with Miles and Nolan and Ana and Millie, with the people who work for me. And you. You made me feel like maybe I am worth it.”

She makes a small, distressed sound, eyebrows pulled down.

“I don’t want to feel like a loser. I don’t want to make the same mistakes I did in my marriage. You reminded me—you either win or you learn.”

Her eyes flicker and a hint of a smile brushes her lips.

“So if it takes being brave enough to tell you the truth about me, and tell you how I feel about you, then that’s what I’m gonna do.” I meet her eyes. “I love you, Bianca.”

She gazes at me wordlessly, eyes big and shiny.

“I love your crazy questions. I love your passion for wine. I love your intelligence and your sense of fun and how hard you work.”

Her bottom lip quivers.

“I love that you love my dog. And I also love your spectacular tits and ass and?—”

“Jansen!” She drops her head back. But she’s smiling.

“Sorry. I mean, not sorry, I do love your body and your beautiful face and your stained fingers.” I grin. “And I know you’re leaving. Like I said, I won’t ask you to stay. It’s your decision and if you go back to Argentina, I’ll support you. It’ll break my fuckin’ heart, but I want you to live your dreams.”

There’s a moment of silence. She looks like she’s fighting emotion. Then she says, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I was a mess. I guess I still am, but I’ve been told some hard truths, too, and I’ve reflected on them and I’ve figured out some things—I think.” She takes a breath. “And you’re right. Letting go of the past is something we have to do if we want to move forward. I let the past control my feelings about being back here. About my family and how they see me.”

“I know you want their respect. But your value doesn’t decrease because they can’t see your worth. And if they don’t, they’re just boneheads.Youhave to see your worth.”

Her eyes go glossy and her bottom lip trembles. “Yes. That’s exactly right.” She composes herself. “Rosa told me not to do it again—to leave because I’m afraid. And the truth is…Iamafraid.”

Jesus. It’s even hard to ask aboutotherpeople’s feelings. But I want to know. And…it’s Bianca. Ineedto know what she’s afraid of so I can slay those dragons for her. So I can defend her and protect her and cherish her. So I can be her warrior, her guardian…so I can give my life for her.

I may be getting a little dramatic.

“What are you afraid of?” I ask gently. She seems so confident and sure of her abilities, so self-possessed and fearless. But we all have things we’re afraid of.

A chirping noise has us both straightening.

“That’s a fucking cricket,” she mutters, eyes sweeping around the cellar.

“It is.” I grin. “Sorry. I was just thinking that we all have things we’re afraid of and then the damn cricket pipes up.”

Her lips twitch. “Well, that’s one thing, yeah. But…I’m afraid of so many things. I’m afraid my mother left me because there’s something wrong with me. I’m afraid thatanyoneI care about will leave me. I’m afraid I’ll never live up to the family name.”

“Bianca.”

“I know.” She holds up a hand. “I know. My career in Argentina was going great. I’m nominated for a big award. But coming home, I still felt I had to prove my worth to my family. To this community. But you’re right. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone. Just to me.”

I smile.

“And Rosa was right. I’ve always been afraid to let people in because it hurts being left. SoIleft. When I came home, I didn’t want to get involved with people. All I wanted was help my sisters get things started with Caparelli and then high tail it back to Castillo Lorenzo. But things…changed.”

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