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She threw her arms around me and held on tight, then squeaked when I grabbed her closer, giggling and pressing her wet face into my neck. I laughed with her, the sound of it rolling through the living room. God, I’d just been granted a second chance at life, and the air had never been so sweet, the world so welcoming.

Because she’s my Beth. My sweet thing. The female is all mine and I was going to make it up to her for as long as I lived, for as long as she let me.

I didn’t deserve this. Not at all. But the heavens had intervened, and here she was now.

Suddenly, the brunette grew serious.

“Mason,” she warned, drawing back slightly. “I want you to know that this isn’t a get of jail free card. This doesn’t mean that suddenly, we go back to being the way it was before.”

I nodded.

“Of course not,” were my growled words. “I wouldn’t expect that, not after what happened.”

Beth was silent for a moment.

“I guess I shouldn’t have promised so much,” she said slowly. Oh shit! Was she backing out? Was my chance at redemption gone already?

But the girl must have seen the look on my face because immediately, she smiled again.

“No, not that. It’s just that we have to take it one day at a time now, okay? After all that’s happened, I can’t just jump in with my eyes closed. That’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to who I am and who I want to be.”

And immediately, I nodded, grabbing her small hands between my big ones.

“Sweetheart, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’ll show you that I’m trustworthy. That I care. That I love you, and you’re the most important thing in the world to a poor bastard on his knees begging you for forgiveness.”

Beth softened then.

“I know,” she said, caressing my cheek with one tiny palm. “I know. But one day at a time, okay? Because the fuck book doesn’t disappear just like that. It’s an on-going process, and we need to repair the damage. We need time to rebuild and re-group, to find ourselves once more. So will you do it, Mason? Will you go to therapy with me? Will you spend quality time working on this?”

Her words rang through my soul. Because I fucked up before, but damn if I’m gonna make the same mistake twice.

“Yes, sweetheart. I’ll do anything to help you trust me again. I’ll take classes, go to Alcoholics Anonymous, whatever’s necessary. You’re my first priority.”

And Beth threw her head back then and laughed, the peals ringing through the apartment.

“Mason, you’re not an alcoholic. What do you mean, Alcoholics Anonymous?”

My grin flashed.

“Just sayin’ honey. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. You’re my number one, and I’m going to prove it to you with everything I’ve got.”

She was still for a moment, those caramel eyes swallowing me whole.

“Thank you,” was her simple reply. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

And with that, I gathered the brunette in my arms, pulling that curvy body close. Because I’ve been given a second chance, and who am I to squander it? After everything we’ve been through, that fucking fuck book, the lies, the misrepresentations, the assault even, I didn’t deserve this woman. I didn’t deserve another bite at the apple.

But she was here now.

Beth wanted to try again.

And I was going to make it worth her time.

Because I love this female so much … and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her close, always.

EPILOGUE

Beth

One year later …

The dinner was the best I’ve ever had.

Maybe it was because I was with my family. Maybe it was the warm Florida evening. And maybe it was because Mason had his hand resting on my thigh under the table. Nothing crazy, totally appropriate given that we were with our parents.

Because Rhonda had invited us to her Florida condo, but it wasn’t just Mason and me. George and Lynne were here as well, our parents meeting for the first time.

“Ma, this pierogi is the best ever,” Mason complimented, chowing down with big bites. The man was in heaven literally. Already, the plate was nearly empty, dumplings gone, just a few scraps left. My man can eat, and it’s my job to keep him fed.

Rhonda looked up drfrom the conversation she was having with my dad and shook her fork at Mason.

“Credit where credit is due, sweetheart. Because Beth was the one who made them today. Her recipe came out even better than mine, I can’t believe it,” she smiled. “What did you do different this time?”

I blushed hotly, but pleasure ran through my frame. Rhonda and I have bonded over the book of family recipes, cherishing the heirloom.

“Nothing different,” I said with a warm smile. “Except I drizzled melted butter over the dish. That’s probably what you’re tasting.”

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