Page 158 of Severed Heart

Paralyzed by the sight of her at my feet, by her gesture, I fight for control to pull her to me, to crush her lips, knowing it’s only going to get harder with the road ahead.

“I know you’re still angry with me and don’t want to hear my apology, but will you please, please, let me say I’m sorry? Tyler, I regret so badly that morning. The way I made you feel.” She looks up to me, her eyes scanning my face as she ripples with anxiety. “And that I still regret it every day and always will.”

I nod as more of her tears spill over—these are different in nature. These are tears of the healing kind as my chest continues seizing with a need for her.

“I thought maybe if you ...” Her chest bounces as she tries her best to rein them in. “I thought that if you saw this book, you would see that all my time was not wasted... and maybe you won’t think so little of me?”

I grip the back of her neck, brushing her tears away, adding my other hand to firmly grip her face so she can see the truth in my eyes. “Do you see anything in my face that says any part of you is wasted?”

“Always saying the right things,” she tries to pull away, “I’m so sorry for—”

“Shhh,” I whisper, the need to fucking kiss her overwhelming as she scans my face. In an effort to shield it, I release her in an instant, standing. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

“You do?” she asks, a look of ...dejection... turning into one of surprise. Am I reading her right? Or is this just my hope blooming?

The notion strikes that these are probably my wants.

But ... does shewantintimacy? Her kiss in the shower said so, but she was weak at the time—at herweakest, and I don’t ever want her accusations from that morning anywhere fucking near us haunting our friendship now. Though she admitted she wanted to be intimate that night we had sex, even the morning afterwhileshe obliterated me, I won’t even let that play a factor in usnow. Resigning myself back to dedication to our friendship—which keeps me safely in her life—I decide not to mull over it or let it fuck with my head another second. Unsure if I could ever handle going there with her again, even as my heart begs for it. The fucker begged me last time too.

“But hear me,” I palm the book on the table. “Before we get to what I hope isyour surprise,this,” I run my hand over the cover, “has just become my most prized possession, fuckingever.”

“Then it was worth every minute,” she whispers as she stands. “I made you happy, Soldier?”

“So fucking happy,” I tell her. “So, in the spirit of that, are you up for a trip?”

“Tonight?” she asks, glancing out of the living room window.

“Yes, go pack a bag,” I tell her, lifting her to her feet. “We’re not going far.”

“Really? A bag? Tostaysomewhere?”

“Yeah, for a night or longer, so bring your toothbrush, pajamas, and a few day clothes.”

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’m so excited.” She stalls. “You won’t tell me?”

“Non,” I state with a wink.

“Okay, I’ll be fast.”

“You don’t have to be fast. I’m not going anywhere, Delphine.”

She nods and stops halfway down the hall, turning back to me with a breathtaking smile on her face. “Tyler! For the first time inso long, I don’t have to worry to bring my fucking bottle! It’s stupid to mention, I know—”

“The fuck it is, it’s a victory,” I tell her. “And we’re taking every single one. Big and small. That’s a big one.”

“Right, yes, it’s a victory,” she says, pumping her fist with a giggle before she disappears. Stupefied, I stare after her for long seconds before glancing back at the book as a sinking suspicion sneaks in.

Six years.

Six years. If I’m right about the day she gave up—and my seizing chest is telling me I am—it will fucking alter me in a way I might not be able to hide. I decide not to press it tonight as I run my palm over the book, her words circling back to me.“For six long years, I prayed my soldier would come back for his maps.”

Forty minutes later, I’ve done my best to put her admission aside, my anticipation spiking as I pull up the long gravel drive before she turns to me. “I know where we are, Tyler,” she draws out, “we are onyour land.”

“I knew you would,” I say, slowing to a stop at the foot of the house. The newly installed porch light illuminating a good portion of the single-story white farmhouse with light blue shutters. The porch—also newly rebuilt—houses a single step to the door and is painted the same shade of blue. Long planter boxes sit bolted beneath the windows facing us. To the right of the light blue front door sits a large window, which gives a view of a spacious living room. To the left of the door sits a slightly smaller bedroom window outlined by the same classic shutters. The totality of the interior currently lit with newly installed ceiling fans and updated light fixtures.

“I love it.” She claps. “We get to stayheretonight?”

“Yeah, we do,” I say, dipping into my jeans pocket and pulling out the key.