Page 90 of Against All Odds

Heath loved me. Loved me? No one had loved me.

My husband of eight years hadn’t.

But he never apologized, Sable. Never!

Heath pulled me into his arms and held me tightly, his chin resting on top of my head. “I want a second chance, Sable. I want it for me, for you, for us, and for Juno.”

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His eyes searched mine, his expression open and vulnerable.

Had he said Juno? What was he saying?

He dropped his lips to mine. It started soft, tentative, like he was afraid that I’d bolt. When I didn’t, the kiss deepened, and I let myself sink into him.

When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. My heart pounded.

“I don’t know if my love is bigger than my fear,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“It is.” His hands squeezed around my waist where they rested. “I know it is.”

I shook my head, stepping out of his embrace. “I’m scared, Heath. If you hurt me again, I don’t know if I can survive it.”

He reached for me, but I took another step back.

“But what if I don’t hurt you again?” he challenged.

“No. This is…these kinds of things don’t happen to me. You don’t understand.”

He looked at me with sympathy. “I do, darlin’. I absolutely do.”

He did. I knew he did.

“No.” I shook my head. “No,” I repeated. I didn’t know if I was turning him down or telling myself to stop myself from falling into his arms and for him all over again.

I sidestepped him and ran out of the gazebo in my stupid heels. I fought the urge to look back and succeeded in not doing so.

I didn’t stop until I was in my car.

I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, my chest heaving.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that this time would be different. But the scars of my past were too deep, and I couldn’t risk my heart again.

I was crying as I drove home.

I was sad for not being braver, for not having Heath’s courage, for being afraid.

CHAPTER 31

heath

After Sable walked away from me that night at the gazebo, I didn’t quite know what to do next.

She was scared, and hell, I didn’t blame her. She’d been burned before—by me, by her ex, by this damn town. And the only way to prove I wasn’t like the rest of them was to show her—to show her every single day until she believed it.

“How can I tell her how I feel if she won’t talk to me?” I asked Wyatt, frustrated, when I dropped him off at the airport.

“Write her a letter.”

“What?”