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“What are you doing here?” And why was he holding my hand and looking at me so tenderly.
He squeezed my hand. “Isn’t this where proud bastards come to seek forgiveness for their prideful behavior?”
I tilted my head, still confused. “Well, yes, but—"
“Shelby.” He reached up and wiped away some of my tears. “I could never stand to see you cry, especially when it was my doing.”
I looked down at our clasped hands that belonged together, then back up into his misted eyes. “Aren’t you with Marlowe? Or Macey?”
“Why would you think that?”
“I saw you last night on the couch sleeping with both of them.”
He grimaced before groaning. “Darlin’, I didn’t mean to fall asleep there. I came looking for you last night to apologize about standing you up when Bobby Jay and Marlowe invited me to watch a movie with them while I waited for you.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend. “Wait. Wait. Did you say Bobby Jay and Marlowe?”
He flashed me a crooked grin. “They’ve been seeing each other.”
I shook my head, astonished. “That can’t be. He’s not her type. She’ll eat him alive.”
“That’s their business.” He shrugged.
“What about Macey?”
“What about her?”
“You were together last night.”
He scooted closer to me. His lips rested on my forehead, filling me with warmth and a comfort only he could provide. “Shelby, I’m not with Macey. I’ve only been trying to come to terms with all that has passed between us. I know that’s hurt you and for that I’m sorry, but you don’t know what you did to me, leaving like you did.” He leaned back. There was no malice in his eyes, only hurt.
I squeezed his hand. “If I could go back and change it all I would. At the time, it all made sense. Something had changed between us.”
He let out a heavy breath. “I know.”
“Why did you keep Worlds Collide a secret from me?”
He thought for a moment. “Will you go on a walk with me?”
I nodded.
We stood together, our hands clasped as if we were holding onto every ounce of hope we had. We walked out into the warm morning sun in silence, but together. My heart could hardly believe it. Was there a chance for us? We naturally drifted in the direction of the park a block from the church, our clasped hands swinging between us.
“Shelby,” he breathed out when we passed the church’s parking lot, “remember when you tried on your wedding dress for me?”
I nodded with a smile.
His face, on the other hand, was filled with consternation. “You never looked so beautiful or happy.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”
He squeezed my hand. “No darlin’, I never wanted you more, but it hit home that day that unless I did something different, I could never afford to give you that moment.”
I tugged on his hand and stopped. “Ryder, it was you who gave me that moment. Do you think I was that happy when I tried the dress on with my momma, who criticized everything about it from the cut of it to the fact that it wasn’t white?” Not to mention who I was marrying, but I left that bit out. “But the way you looked at me in it and knowing that it was the dress we would become man and wife in,” emotion bled through my voice, “that’s what made me happy.”
“But Shelby, I couldn’t buy that dress for you.”
“It was never about the dress. It could have been any dress.”
Red crept up his neck and face. “You kept saying things like that, but how could you know for certain, never having to do without? The more we planned our wedding, the more I realized what you were really giving up.”
“I only ever looked at what I was gaining by marrying you,” I sighed and kept on walking. “I wish you would have believed me.”
“Shelby, it was never a matter of believing in you. It was believing in myself. I wanted to do right by you.”
“You could have told me about what you were doing.”
“I could have and probably should have, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of failing you and I knew it was a long shot. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
I stopped and peered into his eyes. “My only hope was for us was to go through life together and raise a family.” Tears trickled down my cheek.
He reached up and gently wiped the tears away with his thumb. “Then why, at the very least, didn’t you confront me, or at the most, why didn’t you trust me?”
The ache in his voice killed me. I closed my eyes for a moment, part of me wanting to hide from him, the other trying to put it all into words. With a deep breath out, my eyes opened wide. He deserved at least that from me.
