Page 51 of Tender Temptation

It’s a far cry from the distant, controlling man I grew up with.

“I’m really proud of you, Ivy.” Dad’s voice cracks. “You’re special. I’m sorry you felt forced into a life you didn’t want.”

I’m surprised at his show of emotion. A lump forms in my throat. “It means a lot to hear your apology, Dad.”

“I’m truly sorry for everything. I know I can’t change the past, but I’m committed to being better.” He sucks in a breath.

Tears well up in my eyes. “I know you are, Dad, I appreciate it. We’re all healing, one step at a time.”

I hope he means it.

After the call, Mom and I gaze out at the golden glow cast by the morning sun over the Arno river. The peaceful atmosphere has helped me cope and I feel a sense of calm. All of us are moving forward. Rebuilding our lives.

“Your father’s made progress.” Mom wraps an arm around my shoulder. “He’s devastated about how his actions—and his harsh words—affected you.”

She isn’t aware I know she threatened to leave him if he didn’t get help. I overheard the conversation before she told me we were going to Europe for six months. “I know. It’s hard to let go of the past, but I’m glad we’re working through it.”

I don’t express my hope for Cillian to forgive me somewhere down the line. Maybe we can work things out. Ofcourse, he could be seeing someone—a woman closer to his age. The thought claws at my guts. I can’t bear anyone else touching me. The thought of him making love to someone else kills me, though I have no right to feel this way.

“Do you ever think about going back to Seattle?” Mom smooths my hair. She knows I’m thinking about Cillian. We’re in tune with each other again.

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m taking things one day at a time. My life is here for now. I’m truly happy with how things are going and I want to see it through.”

Mom moves away to clean up our breakfast remnants. “I’m glad you’ve found your place. I’ll always be here to support you, wherever you end up.”

“I still think about him all the time,” I blurt out, needing to confide in her. “Especially after all the discussions with my therapist.”

Mom turns to me. “Of course you do, sweetheart. He was your first love. Your first sexual experience. He’ll always be a big part of your life.”

“And yet, he was ashamed of me. I wanted to be as important to him as he was to me. Everything about our relationship has been the most profound thing in my life.” Tears pool in my eyes. “Maybe we could have gotten past it if I hadn’tlied.”

She guides me to the sofa. “Most couples with significant age differences genuinely fall in love without any hidden motives. Eighteen is tough—you’re technically legal, but he probably was worried you didn’t know your own mind. I think it speaks to his character that he took this so hard—he was worried about taking advantage of you. I’ll admit, I was concerned when I heard about what you’d done. But, I didn’t want you to feel like you had to sneak around. I let you go to him because I trustedyou.”

“Thank you.” I’m relieved to finally have a conversation we’ve deliberately avoided. “For me, it was more than being attracted to each other. Our sense of humor is the same. We have lots of shared interests. The way we listened to each other and really learned about our values and dreams for the future. None of these things have anything to do with age.”

She smiles softly. “The shock of finding out how old you really were probably made him question all of it.”

I sigh. The familiar pang of regret hits me in the gut. “Yeah. I can’t blame him for how he felt. I’ve learned a lot about honesty and trust through all of this.”

“You’ve grown up so much.” Mom squeezes my hand. “I’m proud of you for facing these issues head-on and learning from them.”

As we sit in silence listening to the sound of the river, memories of Cillian flood my mind. Despite everything, I’m still in love with him. He was the first person who truly saw me. Who understood the pain and longing I kept hidden from the world. If he knew I was here pursuing art, my guess is he’d be happy for me.

I think back to one rainy afternoon. We were curled up on his couch, talking about our dreams and fears. I confessed I didn’t want to take over my dad’s company. How I’d much rather spend my days painting.

Rather than discourage me, Cillian wrapped me in his arms, kissed my entire face and told me I deserved to be happy. I deserved to follow my dreams.

“I love you, Ivy, You’re the most beautiful soul.” He pressed his cheek against mine. “You’re stronger than you know. Be honest with him. He’ll understand.”

Fighting back tears because I miss him desperately, I know we’re an impossible dream. My focus must remain on the life I’m living here in Florence.

Losing him is still unimaginably painful.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

twenty-four

Cillian

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