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It made sense that Harrison feared abandonment as much as he mimicked his mother’s behavior and ran away from family. But despite all his mommy issues, she believed most of Harrison’s self-doubt stemmed from his father.

“Sometimes sons have it worse than daughters.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, her mother and grandmother entered the kitchen.

“Giovanni! When did you get here?” Both women pelted her brother with kisses, asking if he needed anything. “Did you get a haircut? It looks so nice. Look at those beautiful eyes.”

They praised him for simply existing, telling him how handsome he was more than twelve times in the span of a minute.

Mariella rolled her eyes. “Sons certainly don’t have it harder in Italian families, however.”

When their mom and grandmother left them alone again, Giovanni leveled her with a serious look. “That’s the thing, Mariella. There’s a lot you don’t know. Ward Montgomery was a mean old bastard, despite what the town saw. That’s why their mom left.”

“I figured as much.”

“Well, that sort of thing gets passed down. You need to be careful.”

Realizing he was warning her away from more than general heartache, she frowned. “Harrison would never intentionally hurt anyone.”

“He hurt you.”

“Not intentionally.”

“Right. It was an accident. I wonder how many abusers tell their victims the same thing.”

“Giovanni.” Her defenses shot up. “Harrison’s far from perfect, but he isn’t cruel. I know him better than you. I know what he’s capable of and what he’s incapable of. He would never put me in any sort of physical danger, if that’s what you’re implying. Especially me.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know.”

It wasn’t her place to tell her brother how terrified Harrison seemed at times, how overwhelmed and fragile. Everyone remembered him from his football days, a big guy who could take a hit. But she knew the real him. He was vulnerable, caring, gentle when he needed to be, and he had fears like everyone else.

“He’s got a whole city of people back in New York. Let him find someone there.”

She scowled at his suggestion that everyone just wash their hands of him.

“He doesn’t need a whole city. He needs someone who sees the best in him and can teach him how to trust again. Whether he finds that in a good woman or through reconciling with his family, I hope he finds it either way. Even if his future doesn’t concern me, I wish the best for him. And as his brother-in-law, you should too. At least for Erin’s sake.”

“So long as he keeps upsetting my wife and sister, I don’t owe him anything.”

“Did you ever think you could actually help the situation by being a friend?”

“He’s not my friend. Harrison only thinks of himself. Until that changes, I doubt he’ll have any friends.”

“I’m his friend.”

Giovanni crumbled up the deli wrapper. “I’m telling you, it’s not healthy the way you are with him.”

“You want to lecture me about healthy? You just downed half a pound of processed meat in one sitting.”

“Just be careful.” He stood and kissed her on the cheek. “You have a good heart, and I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”

As soon as he left the kitchen and she was alone, she put down the knife and flattened her palms on the table, blowing out an unsteady breath. Maybe Giovanni was right. Maybe Harrison was dangerous.

But deep down she couldn’t believe that. Yes, he had some issues to work through, but he wasn’t broken. He was a good man, and no matter how much it crushed her to think of him with someone else, she loved him enough to want to see him happy.

They both deserved happiness, which was why she decided to move on. Maybe, over time, they could actually try being friends again, but for now, distance was necessary.

And soon the distance wouldn’t be an issue at all because Harrison would be gone.

CHAPTER 24

“Was this how you pictured yourself when you were a kid?”

Harrison frowned at Erin’s question as they restocked the last of the paint brushes from storage. “No.”

“How did you see yourself?”

She hoisted a can of paint, and he took it from her. “You shouldn’t be lifting heavy stuff.”

She rolled her eyes. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

Her questions were silly but challenging—and endless. Pregnancy had put her on some sort of philosophical quest to unpack the last of their family’s baggage. She didn’t seem to understand that Harrison liked to travel light and she wasn’t getting past his carryon.

“I don’t know, Erin. I think I wanted to be a fireman at one point or a cop. I didn’t put much thought beyond wanting to drive something with a loud siren.”

“So you wanted to be a hero.”

“Not necessarily. Hand me those mixers.”

She passed him the stack of wooden paint stirrers, and he stuffed them into a yellow bucket on the counter.

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