Page 96 of Between Dusk and Dawn

"Don’t pity me. Please. I just told you this so you’ll understand me more. I want to share my story, not for any sort of redemption, but maybe it'll be easier to understand why I am like this.

"Then there was my grandmother," I continued, a tinge of bitterness in my tone. "She had her own way of trying to fix me. I was so grateful for her and the life she gave me, but she wanted to mold me into something that society deemed acceptable. Something polished and presentable. She meant well, I guess, but it felt like I was living someone else's life. I was hiding behind a disguise of conformity, afraid to reveal the real me."

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Walsh, searching his eyes for understanding. "But you, Walsh, you came into my life so unexpectedly. You tore down the walls I had built, exposing the raw, authentic me. It scared me at first, to be seen and accepted for who I truly was and I rebelled against it. Oftentimes, it felt like walking on a tightrope without a safety net. But you showedme that vulnerability isn't weakness; it's strength. You forced me to peel off the layers, revealing the person behind the carefully crafted exterior."

A small smile touched my lips as I recalled the moments Walsh challenged me to confront my fears and insecurities. "You made me see that sometimes wearing a mask is necessary, but it's also heavy and hard. You didn't just accept me; you embraced every part of me—the flaws, the scars, and the imperfections. In your eyes, I found a home, a place where I could be myself, without judgment."

I reached for his hand, intertwining our fingers. "So, forgiving you is not about overlooking mistakes. It's about acknowledging that we're both imperfect beings navigating through this messy thing called life. And despite it all, you've been the anchor that grounded me, the one who made me believe in the beauty of my own soul. That's why I forgive you so easily, Walsh. Because you've given me something I never thought I'd have—a family, a home, and a love that surpasses all my scars."

More tears flooded Walsh’s face. "I’ve never—I’ve never cried before. When my mom died, I couldn’t, and I thought being a man meant showing up for my family by not showing weakness."

I grabbed his hand on the couch and reached up to his face with our fingers intertwined, cusping his cheek before I pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. "I love you," I murmured softly.

"I have a little Christmas gift for you. Let me get it." I put my hand to his chest gently so as not to hurt his wounds.

"You didn’t have to get me anything. I didn't have time…" I was embarrassed. Until yesterday, I thought I would be in Isles for a while, running away from here.

"It’s been bought." He stood and walked out of the room, returning only moments later with a wrapped gift.

I stood, ashamed. "I feel so?—"

"Enough. Just open it."

My trembling fingers accepted the petite box from his hand. It measured no larger than the expanse of my palm, impeccably adorned with Christmas-themed wrapping paper.

"Ms. Luchesse?" I questioned, well aware that Walsh Solis wasn't known for wrapping gifts with such precision. A chuckle escaped him, and I carefully removed the paper, unveiling a diminutive jewelry box.

"Open it," he urged, his voice a gentle whisper in the intimate space between us.

As I delicately unwrapped the package, my heart pounded in my chest and a surge of anxiety washed over me. My breath caught as I opened it. Inside lay a breathtaking pear-shaped diamond ring, its brilliance captivating me in an instant. A new band, intricately designed, complemented the stunning centerpiece.

My hands trembled as I stared at the massive ring. I had left the old gold band he’d given me when I was drunk back in the room above the barn. I took it off, half tempted to chuck it in the trash, but opted to put it on the nightstand. A mixture of emotions, the weight of the past and the promise of the future, collided within me.

Walsh, sensing my internal turmoil, stepped closer. His eyes never left mine as he lowered himself to one knee, his gaze filled with sincerity.

"Marry me, Madison Solis…again," he declared, the words heavy with meaning. "This new band symbolizes a fresh start for us, a chance to build something beautiful together. Will you still be my wife?"

Time seemed to stand still as I processed his heartfelt proposal. The pear-shaped diamond sparkled with promises of a new beginning, and I felt a surge of warmth amid the anxiety. Walsh waited patiently, his vulnerability laid bare before me.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I whispered, "Yes," and a genuine smile spread across his face. He slid the exquisite ring onto my scarred finger, sealing our commitment with a promise that echoed beyond the radiant sparkle of the diamond—a promise of a love that endured and flourished in the face of past trials and the anticipation of a shared future.

"I love you," Walsh whispered as he slowly got off his feet and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"I love you," I said.

I couldn’t stop staring at the pretty ring on my ugly, broken fingers. I stopped, staring up at him. "My parents did this."

It was as if I’d opened the floodgates and the words came spilling out. "I was just a child and when they burned my room, I was reaching for my favorite teddy bear. My hands were caught in the fire and when the ambulance managed to find me at my neighbors’ house, it was too late. I had to get a few skin grafts to fix me up."

I sighed. "It’s such a beautiful ring on such an ugly finger."

Walsh reached for my hands, bringing them to his lips. "You are beautiful. Your scars are beautiful, and they just tell a story of you and what you’ve had to go through to get here."

"My story," I repeated.

"Yours."

I shook my head. "Now it's ours." He gave me a smile as he trailed kisses down my arms, caressing each scar with his lips.

---