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After I walk up the stairs to the porch, she gestures for me to sit down, but I stay where I am.
“Do you want coffee?” she asks, taking a step back towards the kitchen.
Is she out of her mind?
“No,” I nearly shout. “I need you to give me an answer, and don’t talk around it, please.” I flinch at my tone. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be an ass. It’s just... I’m suffering.”
She sighs, and my gut roils.
“I guess I’ll get to it then. You were right to give me a week. Now that I’ve come to a decision, I feel much more at peace than I did when I first blurted out my request.”
I have to force myself to stay silent. My hands shake, and my heart pounds so hard in my chest that it hurts.
She turns to me, smiling with quivering lips. “I do still want that date. I want to at least...try a new beginning.”
My heart soars into the afternoon sky. “Oh.” My lips part, and I try to breathe, but I can’t. I’m shaking, and my eyes are filling with tears. “I just… That makes me…really happy.”
She smiles with her eyes this time, but then her expression grows serious. “I don’t know if I can forgive you. There’s so much…” She shuts her eyes, shaking her head. “There’s so much. Our beginning might end as soon as it starts. Are you okay with that?”
“I told you I was okay with that.”
She nods. “But I don't want to hurt you.”
I laugh breathlessly in my joy. After taking a step in her direction, I set my hand on her cheek. “That you would even care about hurting me after all I’ve done shows what an angel you are.”
She rolls her eyes even as she leans into my touch. “We’ll need to work on the ‘angel’ thing.”
I step closer to her, drinking in her heavenly scent. “Why?”
“I can’t be on that pedestal.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t mean you’re on a pedestal. It doesn’t mean I expect perfection. It means you’re my home. You’re my heaven. My heaven isn’t perfect.”
When her eyes grow misty, I crash my mouth against hers, letting the vestiges of my agony crumble and fall away.
Now there’s only hope.
EPILOGUE
Six months later
Whitney
He strokesmy hair with the tips of his fingers, and I inhale deeply. I love the warmth and scent of him. He sighs, his big chest moving up and down.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Forgiveness.”
His body grows stiff. “You mean…in general or…”
I laugh at the nervousness in his voice. “In general.”
I turn over and look at him, setting my hand on his hard chest. In the cool light of the moon, I can just make out that furrow in his brow. “I think you’ll want to hear it.”
His heart pounds underneath my hand. “Tell me.”
I press a soft kiss against his jaw. “Forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling of certainty.”
