Page 87 of The Wilder Widows

“You know, I married someone a few years after I met you. I thought maybe getting married would finally chase your ghost away.”

The thought of him with another woman twisted my stomach into knots, but I had no right to feel that way. Not when I’d been the one who ended it. I’d abandoned what we had and married someone else.

“And did it?” I asked.

“No. In fact, it only made things worse. Made me miss you more, wishing she was you all those years. We only made it ten years, and I ended it.”

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

“And you? You really thought about me all those years?”

“Every day,” I answered.

“Then tell me why, Sylvie. If you felt that way about me, the way I felt about you, why didn’t you wait? Why marry that guy when I told you I was coming back?” Hurt darkened his eyes as he searched mine.

The truth swirled around on my tongue, and I opened my mouth, trying to find the right words to say.

“Here’s your check,” the waiter interrupted and placed our bill on the table. “Thank you for dining with us.”

“Thank you for having us,” I said, hurrying to my feet and grabbing my purse. I’m not ready.

Looking confused, Tom grabbed the check and rose along with me. I hurried to the door, panic pushing my feet farther and farther away.

He’ll hate me if I tell him.

“Sylvie!” he called after me, but I rushed outside, stopping to inhale a deep breath of the sweet summer air.

I started toward the hotel. It was only a mile walk, and I couldn’t face him... answer the question I knew he deserved to know the truth to. But I hadn’t made it around the corner when he jogged up behind me.

“What the hell, Sylvie?” he asked, catching me by the arm. “What just happened back there?”

Shaking my head, I pulled from his grip. “This was stupid, Tom. I shouldn’t have come here.” I kept walking, stepping onto the bridge suspended over the little river I’d swam in as a child.

“Oh, hell no!” he shouted, racing in front of me and blocking me with his body. “You don’t get to do this. Not again, Sylvie.”

I looked up through tear-filled eyes.

“You don’t get to blow into my life again only to leave me standing alone with a broken heart. Not again.”

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

Reaching out, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, catching the tear as it trickled down. “But you did come. You’re here, Sylvie. How? Why? Actually, I don’t fucking care. All I care about is that you’re here. And to hell if I’m letting you march back out of my life again.”

When I opened my mouth to tell him this was a mistake, that I needed to go, his kiss forced the words back down. Strong hands cupped my face, and the weight of his lips crushed away all my doubts. With each swirl of his tongue, he transported me back through time to my happiest moments. The moments I’d been with him. He kissed away all my fears, my regrets, and the years I’d been miserable without him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I folded into his embrace. My tears slipped past my lips, and the salt mingled with the taste of his kiss. I inhaled his earthy scent, the one that was no longer just a memory. It was real, and so was he. And his kiss and the love for him that still lived inside me... it was all real, and I was holding it, tasting it, touching it.

“Sylvie,” he whispered against my lips. “I love you. I still love you... never stopped loving you.”

“I love you, too,” I murmured into his mouth while the tears fell freely. “I have always loved you, Tom. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I ruined everything.”

Softening his kiss, he brushed his lips against mine and then brought them to my forehead. They pressed into my skin while he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight to his chest.

“I missed you, Sylvie. Every day.”

“I missed you, too.” Burying my head in his chest, I pressed into his embrace.

“I’m not letting you go this time. You know that, right?” He kissed my head again.