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“Really?”
“Of course.” He brought our hands up and kissed mine. “I broke your trust. It’s going to take time and work for me to earn it back. I’m willing to put in whatever time and work that takes.”
I blinked. I wasn’t used to this much insight from him. But then a piece clicked into place from one of our recent conversations. “Your therapist has done you a lot of good, hasn’t she?”
“Ooh,yeah. If my insurance didn’t cover the visits, I’d happily pay her out of pocket, because she is worth her weight in gold.”
I laughed softly. “Well, good. I’m glad you’ve had someone to talk to.” As my humor died away, I chewed my lip. “That’s, um… That’s probably something I should’ve done. Found a therapist.”
“Now’s as good a time as any.”
“Yeah, it is. Because I think the way this affected me…” I sighed, shaking my head. “There might be something else going on, you know?”
Matteo’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Like, maybe I’m depressed? I mean, obviously I was depressed after—but maybe there’s more to it?”
“So, clinical depression instead of situational?”
“I guess?” I half-shrugged. “Or I might just need someone talk me through untangling everything so I can let it go.”
“Can’t hurt either way.” He lifted his head and kissed me softly. “Whatever you need. And… I’m sorry I put you in a situation tobethat depressed.”
“I know you are.” I smiled and slid closer to him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And you don’t have to keep beating yourself up and apologizing. I know you regret it.”
“That isn’t going to stop me from beating myself up or apologizing.” He released my hand and ran his fingers through my hair. “I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t want to forget how or why.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I just don’t want you to spend the rest of our lives groveling.” I closed my hand over his and kissed his palm. “I want what we had before. Not you walking on eggshells.”
Matteo chewed his lip, then nodded slowly. “I’ll try. Just, um, don’t be surprised if there’s still some groveling for a while.”
I tipped up his chin and kissed him softly. “Let’s just take it a day at a time, okay? We’ll get a counselor. We’ll work on things.” I brushed our lips together again. “We’ll be okay.”
My own words made my eyes stung even as I sank into a long, lazy kiss and Matteo wrapped his arms around me. We would be okay, wouldn’t we? It would take time and work, but it would be worth it.
Yeah, he was probably right about groveling for a while. But maybe two could play at that game. He’d show me he was sorry. I’d show him I’d forgiven him. And over time, we’d find our old groove again. Or we’d find a new and better groove.
Either way, we’d get there.
We’d be okay.
Epilogue
Matteo
One much less miserable year later.
Owen peeredat my left hand over the condo’s kitchen island. “Are yousureyou shouldn’t have a doctor look at that?”
“Ididhave a doctor look at it.”
He rolled his eyes. “A doctor who’s not a veterinarian?”
“Like Dr. Scott?”
That got an exasperated laugh out of him, and he threw a dishtowel at me. “Not our counselor either. You know what I mean, you giant dork.”
I chuckled as I tossed the dishtowel back. “Yes, I know what you mean. And in all seriousness, I had like four people at the clinic look at it. It’s not getting infected, and the stitches are holding.”
