Page 40 of The Proposal (Brides of Beaufort 1)

He swallowed. “Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“Pretty much since the beginning.”

His words caused a shiver to run through me. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. That’s what I was trying to tell you at prom. Couldn’t you tell?”

I hesitated. “It’s not that simple.”

“No?”

“No.” I purposely took another bite in order to stall for time. Logically, I knew going into tonight that it was wrong of me to have made this decision for him. But now all I felt was guilt. How was I going to admit to him that I was the reason we hadn’t been together for years? Because if it weren’t for the way I’d kept him at arm’s length all this time, who knew where we’d be?

“Let me in, Shel.” His voice was quiet, laced with so much concern it made my stomach tighten. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Promise you won’t hate me?”

He let out a short laugh. “I could never hate you.”

“I pushed you away because I didn’t think it was fair for you to be saddled with me and my heart condition for the rest of your life,” I blurted, pausing to gauge his reaction. When he did nothing but stare at me, I took a deep breath, continuing. “I convinced myself that you could never have romantic feelings for someone you’ve had to take care of like a hospice nurse, but I think deep down I knew how you felt. But I didn’t want you to have to worry about me forever. I wanted you to be able to marry someone who wasn’t at risk for sudden cardiac arrest at any given moment. I wanted you to be able to grow old with someone. To have kids with someone.”

The last point came out on a whisper. We hadn’t ever talked about my feelings on the subject of kids. It was too painful. I’d intentionally let him assume that someday I’d find someone and we’d start a family. But that wasn’t true. I never planned to marry. I never planned to have kids. I couldn’t risk passing this genetic condition on to anyone else, and if I wasn’t willing to do it with Paul, I sure wasn’t going to do it with someone else.

He might as well have been made of stone for how little he moved as he sat across from me. He barely blinked, barely breathed as he considered my confession. Finally, he took his napkin off his lap and put it on the table in front of him. “Wow.”