Page 133 of The Broken Heart Playlist
“But you didn’t.”
He looks away and then back at me again. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
He hesitates for the tiniest instant. I can feel the tension radiating from him. “You were different. So guarded and closed off. Brittle. And I picked up the clear message that you wouldn’t welcome any reminders of Oliver, as well as anyone with any connection to him. I didn’t want to destroy my chance before I even had one, so I kept quiet. As time went on, it became harder and harder for me to find the right moment to tell you the truth.”
I sit up a little straighter. Something about his story doesn’t make sense. “You used a different name before you even met me. You didn’t buy the house as Garrett Walker. You were already calling yourself Gideon.”
He nods. “I changed my name because I invented a product called TribalMind. It’s a platform that allows users to share ideas and learn from other people’s experiences. It became wildly successful, and I made a lot of money. Unfortunately, I also made quite a name for myself in the industry. Journalists were constantly badgering me for interviews and people were coming up to me, pitching new product ideas and asking me to invest. That’s one of the reasons I got burnt out. I needed anonymity for a while, so when I moved to Brown Oaks I used another name. Which I continued to use when I realized how much you hated any reminders of Oliver.”
I mull over his words. “Aaron ran a search on you and found nothing.”
“I paid someone a lot of money to make me anonymous and give me a fresh start. Journalists are fairly intrepid and I didn’t want any of them following me here. I just wanted an opportunity to get to know you in peace.”
“When were you planning on telling me?”
“I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “The longer I kept quiet, the harder it was to tell you. I think a part of me hoped I could keep it a secret forever. Or at least until we were both so old, you didn’t have the stamina to run from me.”
An unexpected laugh bursts out of me. I mean, I shouldn’t laugh, this is serious and in no way a laughing matter, but the picture I have in my head of the two of us, old and gray, yelling at one another, is so vivid I can’t help chuckling. After a moment, though, I feel reality crashing back and the humor fades from my face.
“What happened when Aaron came over?” I ask him.
“He threw a few punches, but the man showed remarkable restraint. If the roles were reversed...” He shakes his head. “I don’t like to think what I would have done.”
Pain ripples through me. I stare at him, at the man I thought I knew and loved.What next?I think. I don’t have any kind of answer. I only feel a weariness that goes beyond physical exhaustion.
“Kate, I am so very sorry,” Gideon says, his voice laced with regret. “I know I messed up, I messed up hugely, but I’m asking you, I’m begging you, to please forgive me.”
A strange ache spirals through my chest. Forgiveness. That’s what this boils down to. Do I forgive him?
A healthy relationship is founded on trust. And no matter his reasons, Gideon deliberately deceived me. It’s a hard thing to forgive, but not an impossible thing.
I think back to everything Gideon’s done for us—he helped Lisset regain her love of reading, saved her birthday party, he broke down my walls and helped me to embrace life again. Grandma would no doubt tell me that a man who voluntarily irons your clothes can’t be all that bad. Gideon got our beginning wrong, but he got so many other things right.
I could choose to withhold my forgiveness and make him pay some more, but it feels as though we’ve both been punished enough.
In the end, it’s not an easy choice, but it’s a clear one. “I forgive you,” I say simply.
Gideon stands and pulls me to my feet. He palms my cheek and uses his thumb to wipe away my tears. For a breathless moment, he doesn’t say anything and then his words spill over me like molten lava. “I love you, Kate. These last few weeks without you have been pure torture. Only when I’m with you do I feel complete. I want to take care of you and Lisset. Not because you need me to, but because I want to.”
A warmth settles over me at the look in his eyes. I feel seen, appreciated, cherished. Loved.
He rests his forehead against mine. “But you know what I want most of all?”
“I don’t,” I whisper.
His voice is strong and steady. “I want to one day call youmy wife.”
I burst into tears. His arms close around me and I bury my head in his chest, my fingers tangling in his shirt. I’m enfolded in his easy strength, the reassuring familiarity of him.
“I love you, Gideon Walker,” I say on a ragged breath.
“I love you, too, Kate Miller. Now and forever.”
“You better watch out for Grandma,” I warn him after a watery hiccup. “She’s already asking Google for revenge strategies.”
“Your grandmother scares me a little.”
