Page 107 of The Marriage Mistake

He huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking. I loved the way he touched me. My chest ached because it felt so good, and I was sure this was some sort of lie. It had to be a lie, because otherwise it meant that my wildest dreams were coming true.

Good things didn’t happen to me. Not like this.

Jack was obviously on a quest to prove me wrong. He stroked my cheek and murmured, “It was exactly your place to tell me that I was going wrong with Darby, because your place is right here beside me.”

I opened my eyes. “Jack,” I whispered, my heart aching all over again.

But it wasn’t the ache of shattering. It was the ache of healing, of an old wound knitting itself shut.

“I love you,” he repeated, whispering.

I wanted to believe him, but I was terrified. I’d grown up knowing that no one—especially not the men in my life—cared about me. No one would save me. No one would protect me from the harshness of the world. Jack had already hurt me once; what if I trusted him a second time, and he did it again?

My chin fell to my chest, and I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, all I saw were those torn-up shreds of paper littering my floor.

The divorce he refused to sign.

The money he refused to accept.

I met his gaze again. “You’re throwing away three hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” I whispered.

His shoulders softened, and he shook his head. “I don’t care about the money. All I want is you.”

The words resonated through me, vibrating down to the bottom of my soul. He didn’t have to be here. He could’ve signed those papers and sent his bank account information, and we’d never speak to each other again.

But he didn’t do that. He’d gotten on a plane and crossed half the country to fight for me—me, the woman no one had ever fought for.

He was here.

For me.

I couldn’t deny the evidence of my eyes and ears any longer. Jack was telling the truth: He didn’t care about the money. And if he was telling the truth about that, it meant the other thing he’d said…

He loved me. He loved me.

I exhaled, leaning into him. He pressed his lips to my forehead, and it felt so right to be here, in his arms. But I still felt the need to hold back. Protect some small part of myself, because giving him all of me felt like too much of a risk.

I swallowed down my fears and scrambled for something to say. What came out was, “Did you miss Darby’s recital to come tell me this?”

Jack’s lips were still lightly brushing my forehead, and I felt them curve into a smile. “No,” he said. “There was no recital.”

I pulled back to stare at him.

He shrugged. “She quit piano. She’s at a cabin in the woods with half a dozen thirteen-year-old girls. They’re all dressing up as Labubus or something. I don’t get it, but she was excited. She said to tell you that she misses you.”

The final wall inside me ceased to be. It didn’t crumble and fall down, leaving rubble around my heart. It just—vanished.

Jack had come all this way. He’d refused a huge amount of money because he wanted me instead. He’d listened to my advice and listened to his daughter. He’d admitted that he was wrong and tried to make amends. He’d apologized, and he’d told me he loved me. Multiple times. Not only that, but he’d told Darby he was coming to see me, which meant he’d been honest with his daughter about what was going on between us. This was real.

He’d seen Darby, and now he was seeing me. Choosing me.

The change must have shown in my face, because his smile went soft. “Do you believe me now?”

“I—” I gulped. Somehow, my hands found their way to his chest and curled into the waterproof material of his jacket. “You really love me?”

“Ember,” he answered, “the love I feel for you is so overwhelmingly big I can’t sense the edges of it. My life only makes sense when you’re in it. Darby’s life only makes sense when you’re in it. Please, babe, come home. Let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

Happiness was a hot rush that spread from my chest outward. My fingertips reached up to stroke the stubble on his jaw as I said, “Now I get why you like it so much when I beg.”