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He kissed with such intensity, as if to assure himself this was real and it was truly me he was kissing. Finally, he sighed and the kiss slowed into a steady rhythm until his lips glided off mine, only to kiss the corner of my mouth. From there he planted soft kisses across my cheek, speaking beautiful words in between each kiss. “You are my hero, Ariana. After everything you’ve been through, you persevered. You make everything and everyone around you thrive. I’m more alive when I’m with you.”

My head fell against his shoulder. “How can I be your hero? I run from life.” I ran from you. I didn’t have the heart to say that to him.

“No, you run your life. From what Brock says, you run the studio better than your grandma ever did, and you helped Dani get Children to Love up and running. And . . . no one, not even me, could have gotten Whitney to eat ice cream in a blanket fort, except you.”

“Jonah, it wasn’t me. She only did it because I told her people who eat ice cream are happier and they live longer. She had to google that, of course, and what she found scared her. She thinks she’s going to die young because she doesn’t have any friends.”

Jonah stiffened. “Not even one?” His heart sounded broken.

“None. Didn’t she tell you?”

“She likes to talk about what she learned at school and her teacher, whom she seems to like a great deal. Whitney says she often sits with her at lunch,” he choked out. “I feel like I’ve failed at my most important job.”

I snuggled in closer to him. “Believe me Jonah, you’re doing a good job. The mere fact that you’ve provided her with a stable, loving environment puts her ahead of the game. And more importantly, you want what’s best for her. She’s a lucky girl to have you as her dad.”

He rested his chin on my head. “More than anything, I want her to be happy and well-adjusted. I want her to see past her own brilliance.”

“She did use a contraction tonight, and she asked for more chocolate cookies to go with her ice cream. She’s on her way to becoming a juvenile delinquent,” I teased.

Jonah’s muted laugh rumbled in his chest. “Thank you for taking such good care of her tonight. You don’t know how much it means to me. To have you both together is incredible.”

“I hope you don’t mind, I promised her I would take her to Dinosaur National Monument.”

“I don’t mind at all. We should make that a camping trip.”

“Maybe we should wait until it’s warmer for that. I love to camp, but not when it’s ten degrees at night.”

“I have ways to warm you up,” he groaned against my ear.

“I thought we were taking this a day at a time.”

He kissed the top of my head. “You’re right. We should take things slow. A lot has happened to Whitney and me this year. She knows I like you, and that her mom and I aren’t getting back together.”

“How does Whitney feel about that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. She only repeats Eliza’s talking points back to me, as if it was all a sterile business transaction. I’m afraid for the time when she does start to feel the weight of the divorce. I think it hasn’t hit her because Eliza was gone more than she was at home. Honestly, things aren’t a lot different other than we live in a new house and she goes to a new school. A school of my choosing this time. I want her to have a normal upbringing.”

I drew circles with my finger on his taut chest. “I wanted nothing more than to be normal growing up, but now I’m not even sure if there is such a thing. Honestly, I don’t think Whitney is meant for normal, but there is nothing wrong with that as long as she’s safe,” my voice betrayed me and hitched.

“I’ll always do my best to keep her safe.” Jonah’s arms tightened around me. “I wish I could have kept you safe. I wish you would let me now.”

“That might be kind of hard considering the person you would be keeping me safe from now would be myself.”

“You are scary,” he joked.

I playfully smacked his chest.

“Honestly, though, you need to stop fearing yourself. If you could only see yourself like I do, you would know how amazing and capable you are. You would know you aren’t your mother.”

I desperately wanted that to be true. And more than anything, I wanted the truth. “Jonah,” I whispered, “my therapist thinks I should open my father’s letter this year.”

Jonah’s heartbeat ticked up. “Are you going to?” I knew he thought I should. When I’d told him about it all those years ago, he thought it was weird I never had. And he’d never trusted my mom’s motives. He was smarter than me.

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