Page 70 of The Surrender

“Jude.” I remove my head from his arm and tighten my hold. “I’m so sorry.”

He smiles down at me, then slides his hand into mine, leading me to a bench under a willow tree. “Sit,” he says. The gold plaque on the back of the bench catches my eye.

Evelyn’s Bench

“I had it put here for Mum to sit on when she visited.” He lowers next to me, keeping hold of my hand. But now Jude sits here. “She used to wear heels.” He peeks down at mine. “All the time. Even her slippers clicked the wooden floors around the house. It was her thing. Shoes. Dad used to say she’d put Imelda Marcos to shame.”

I laugh lightly, moving in closer, resting into his side as we sit on his mum’s bench and sip wine.

“She visited him every week. At least, that’s what she told me. I think she came most days.”

“She was lost without him,” I murmur, remembering Jude telling me that.

“She died in her sleep.”

“What?”

“She wasn’t taking my calls,” he says quietly. “So I went round and found her in her bed.” His voice cracks. “She was perfectly healthy. There was no explanation. Sudden Adult Death Syndrome, I think they call it.” I know what he’s going to say next, and I’m not sure I can hear it. “But I think she died of a broken heart.”

“Oh, Jude,” I whisper, looking up at him.

“I didn’t have a chance to miss Dad.” He stares forward, that jaw starting to pulse again, as if he’s biting down on his back teeth. “I was the eldest boy. I had to make sure everyone was okay. But Mum? All I’ve done since she’s been gone is miss her.”

I chew at my lip, once again seeing those pills in Jude’s bathroom cupboard. Will he use this opportunity to tell me he might have struggled in the past? But I feel like he’s still struggling. So why isn’t he taking the pills? This enlightenment does, however, explain his anger since she died. He was so focused on being strong for his family after his dad passed away, he didn’t have room for grief until Evelyn died. And now it seems like he’s dealing with a tsunami.

Laughing under his breath, Jude peeks down at me. Smiles. Dips and presses his lips in my hair. “I ended things with Katherine a year after Dad died.”

Every muscle in my face aches to screw up. I don’t want to think that he was going to marry someone. “Why?”

“She was needy.”

I release an unattractive snort of laughter, and Jude looks down at me with another grin.

“And jealous,” he says, wiping away my amusement.

Well, that makes sense. I’ve definitely detected a touch of the green-eyed monster. A touch? But ... “Jealous of who?”God, please don’t hit me with a past of cheating and betrayal.

“Of my relationship with Mum,” he replies. I don’t do a very good job of hiding my recoil. “Katie hated—”

“Wait, Katie?”

“Katherine. She was known as Katie until she got married and decided it wasn’t grown-up enough for her. Anyway, Katherine hated that I put my mum first. Hated that I would change our plans so I could have dinner with Mum instead. I just ... I don’t know. I didn’t have the energy or patience for her. She was always pleasant to Mum, but I sensed the underlying resentment. Mum was oblivious, though.”

“I don’t like Katherine,” I declare, not that he needs to hear it. He knows. And I hate that he still slept with her.Hate it.

“But most of all, I called it off because what I had with her wasn’t a patch on my parents’ love. Seeing them together made my heart so happy. Then seeing how devastated Mum was when Dad died made my heart break. I didn’t feel like that about Katherine. I want what Mum and Dad had.”

I stare forward, feeling like a swarm of butterflies have been released inside me, as Jude gets up, places his wine on the ground, and crouches in front of me. Relieving me of my glass, he sets that down too and takes my hands gently. “The way Mum looked at Dad,” he says, his eyes pouring with sincerity. “I see you looking at me like that, Amelia.” His gaze searches mine, waiting for me to speak. I have no words. My heart is speeding. “And I know for fucking sure I look at you like I adore you, because I really fucking do.”

I’m not sure it’s acceptable to swoon in a graveyard, but here I am swooning in a graveyard. And I know, right in this moment, I’m looking at Jude like I adore him. Because I do. I can deal with his ... quirks. And maybe now, after years of grief and no direction, only Arlington Hall to keep him going, he sees a future.

With me.

I cannot believe I’m thinking this. I’ve been well and truly swept off my feet, and it isn’t just all-out crazy chemistry that’s blindsided me. It’s Jude Harrison in his entirety. Including his vulnerabilities. Including his quirks.

I reach for his wide shoulders and pull him into my seated body, and he drops to his knees between my legs. “I really fucking do too.”

He holds me tightly, and it feels so poignant. I wasn’t prepared for him. He wasn’t prepared for me. “Promise me you’ll always listen to me when I talk,” he whispers. “See me when I’m in front of you. Take my hand when I give it to you.”