Page 123 of Four Promises to Love

She was too terrified to hope. “It’s the way it falls over your eyes.”

“Finn, you could have trusted me. You could have told me this—all of it—before.”

“I realize that now, but I didn’t trust myself.” She surrendered the last of her pride. “I didn’t trust that someone like you could love someone like me. That is why it took me so long to admit my feelings aloud. Your love is the finest gift any woman could wish for; my love seems paltry in comparison. As worthless as this rusty tin pendant”—she tapped it—“next to a string of diamonds.”

He drew his brows together. “Your love is not paltry.”

Impulse guided her to untie the ribbon around her neck. She took off her pendant. Giving it one last glance, she held it out.

“In that case, my heart is yours,” she said steadily. “It has been since our night at the stream and probably before then. I know that what I’ve done may have altered your feelings for me, and I understand. In your shoes, I don’t know if I could forgive me either. But I want you to know that while I misled you about a great many things, I never lied to you about my feelings. My love is yours, Owen, and always will be.”

Owen looked down at the pendant, and her chest gave a wretched squeeze at how insignificant the tarnished little heart was. The red ribbon didn’t distract from the pendant’s cheapness, rusted edges, and accumulated dents. Yet it was the dearest thing she had to offer: a talisman that had seen her through every moment of her life.

Slowly, Owen closed his fingers around it. “Thank you.”

“It’s not much,” she said tremulously, “but I want you to have it.”

“I wish you had been honest with me.”

She fought the suffocating despair. Her honesty was too little, too late. She couldn’t come back from her mistakes—had lost the only man she would ever love. Feeling tears surge behind her eyes, she hung her head and tried to discreetly blink them away.

He hooked his fingers beneath her chin, tilting it up.

“But I understand why you kept your secrets. I, of all people, know what it is like to feel that there are parts of myself I must hide away. That no one could possibly understand or want me as I am.”

“That’s not true⁠—”

“I know it now. It’s taken time—years—to understand that the acceptance and forgiveness I needed had to come from myself. My family helped me. And you, Finn—you helped me too.”

“I did?” she whispered.

“Your resilient spirit allowed me to let down my guard. Or maybe my defenses never worked against you. With your sneak-thievery, you stole my heart, and it’s been yours ever since.”

The hope she felt was even more painful than despair.

“Even now?” she asked. “Despite everything I’ve done?”

“Now. Forever.” He gently wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’ll always be yours.”

To her horror, she began to cry—and not pretty, manipulative tears. These were ugly, wrenching sobs of relief, and when she tried to hide her face, he wouldn’t let her, instead cupping her cheeks and gazing at her as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“St-stop staring,” she begged. “I’m a frightful mess.”

“We both are.” He gave her that crooked smile that would make her heart somersault even if she lived to be a hundred. “That is why we belong together, my Finn.”

He kissed her then, and it was a salty, messy reunion that was nonetheless perfect. Finn would have happily stayed in his arms, their mouths tenderly and hungrily fused, but an exaggerated cough shattered the moment. Owen ended the kiss but kept her tucked against him as they turned to face his family.

Normally, she considered herself quite bold, but these people mattered to Owen—which meant they mattered to her. The truth was she liked them and yearned to be part of their fold. The smiles from Xenia, Gigi, and Evie filled her with hopeful gratitude. Yet the impenetrable expressions of the others conveyed that acceptance would not come readily.

“I want to offer my sincerest apologies,” Finn said humbly. “Although you’ve heard the extenuating circumstances, I know they do not excuse my behavior. I can only say that in my frantic bid to save Iris, I felt I had no other choice. But I was wrong to deceive you. You have shown nothing but kindness to me and my gang. You didn’t deserve to be tricked and treated shoddily in return, and for that I am truly sorry.”

“I understand why you protected your secret,” Evie said quietly. “My past had a similar effect on me. It took me a long time—too long—to trust that I deserved the love of a man like my husband.”

Manderly raised her hand to his lips, his look one of fierce devotion.

“I hid who I was,” Xenia said. “Because I was ashamed of my origins.”

Faced with Xenia’s grace, Finn felt her guilt burgeon.