Page 120 of Revelry
“I love you, you know. I know you won’t believe me, but I do. It took me far too long to realize, and I can’t apologize enough for that. But I do.”
I couldn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see if she rejected me so I just spoke while I went back and forth fetching different tools, finding comfort in the ritual of changing the shoes while declaring feelings I’d never spoken aloud to anyone before.
“We’ve been through similar traumas, and no one understands me like you. Even when we were kids you pushed me, like you could see there was something in me stuck deep down that you just needed to tease to the surface. Well, you did it, sugar. I’m not gonna lie, he’s a bit of a beast because that’s how fierce he loves you.”
I heard her shuddering breath but I still couldn’t look at her.
“I know I hurt you and I know you’ve heard from plenty of men that they’re sorry and they won’t do it again. I can’t promise we won’t have our tough times because that’s life, but I can promise to love you the hardest I’ve ever loved before through each challenging time. Whether it’s you getting stressed on the first day at the ice creamery that you’re going to open, if you’re anything like you were at the fair then that’s going to require a lot of patience on my part, but damn it’ll be beautiful to watch you shine. Or when we have kids and I struggle with the mess they make and need you to help me through it. Or even just watching you go through childbirth. Shit, I don’t know how other husbands do that.”
She was crying now. “Stop, please stop.”
I flicked my stare up to her. Her cheeks and nose were blotchy and tears streaked her cheeks, her eyes watery and pained. My heart twinged knowing I’d put those tears there and wanted to swipe them away.
I shook my head fiercely. “No Gertrude, I won’t stop. I won’t stop until you understand.”
She bit her lip and looked away. “Tate…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I can’t…”
“I know sugar, I know. I don’t blame you. I told you, I’m going to earn you.”
I headed to the forge and swapped over the horseshoe inside, taking the hot one to the anvil and inspecting the shape, needing to soften it slightly. I banged the hammer down on the edge, twisting it over the anvil until the curve smoothed out, then brought it back to Fitzwilliam. The hoof sizzled as I held the shoe to it and then I brushed away the charred keratin. We didn’t talk but there was a peace between us that hadn’t existed in a while.
“Thanks for keeping me safe,” I said when I finished.
She snorted and stroked Fitzwilliam’s snout but didn’t speak. Her tears had stopped falling but the tracks remained. I liked that she didn’t try to hide them, didn’t try to wipe them away.
I rubbed the back of my neck, scared to ask this next question because I really needed her to say yes.
“I need a favor.”
I think it was my tone of voice, she understood I was asking for something serious.
“Sure.”
“I need to go somewhere, and I need you to come with me. Are you free tonight?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I can help out a friend.”
She was so damn good to me, after everything. But she had one thing wrong. I stalked to her, her eyes widening. I towered over her, then cupped her jaw, running my thumb softly over her cheek.
“We’re not friends, Gertrude.”
*
I glanced at Gertrude one last time before I rang the bell. She gifted me with a bright, confident smile and squeezed my hand in reassurance. My heart clenched and my stomach flipped dramatically as I realized it was too late to leave.
There was the sound of the chain being unlatched, then the brown wooden door swung open and I was staring at my father. His mop of dark hair was lined with white streaks. His gray eyes widened in shock before he smiled, lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes. He looked between me and Gertrude over and over like he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Tate, son, what are you doing here?” he asked.
Son.
I remembered the last time I saw him; he was walking away from me and getting into his car. My mother was screaming abuse in the background, and I kept running after him, begging for him to take me too. My hands latched around his waist as I peered up at him. I was fourteen and my growth spurt hadn’t kicked in yet.
I was just a young boy desperate for love.
Now we were the same height, now I stared directly at him. All the memories that I had choked down years ago began to rise to the surface in a tidal wave of emotion, crashing into me. A strangled sound fled my throat.
Gertrude’s hand gripped mine so tightly my bones cracked, but I didn’t care. I needed the reminder that she was here, she was the only reason I could do this. If I didn’t have her by my side, tempting me with the life I could lead if I worked for it, if Iearnedher, I never would have gotten to this point. I owed her more than I could say.
