Page 67 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
Everything will be okay.
It has to.
Chapter 27
Nic
As soon as Jay is out of sight, I sink onto the upper step of the gazebo. All the fight leaves me at once.
My thoughts run wild, showing me all the worst-case scenarios, making my blood freeze in my veins and my heart pound in my chest. What if the paparazzi come here? Will my lake house become a prison, with each step outside of its safe four walls published in tabloids?
I never even noticed the crowd forming around us, but now, their curious and worried stares prickle into my skin like a thousand needles. I pull my knees to my chest and sink further into myself.
“Hey.”
Lauren crouches down in front of me, trying to catch my gaze, but I nervously shake my head at her, still trying to remember how to breathe. It’s not even the fact he tried to blackmail me—I don’t give a damn if he tries to taint my name. Those whose opinions matter to me know that I would never do that.
But I’m exhausted. How much longer does this have to go on?
“Henry?” she shouts for him loudly. Before I know it, he trades places with her, kneeling before me while Lauren shoos everyone away from this little spectacle.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, and the worry in his voice is almost enough to make me break into the tears I’ve been trying to hold back. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Talk to me.”
I try to hide my face in my palms, but he catches them before I can, holding them in his big, warm hands. Jensen is suddenly beside us, trying to make sense of what’s happening, tip-tapping around us and nudging me with his nose nervously.
“Sweetheart,” Henry mumbles again, swiping a strand of hair behind my ear and keeping his warm palm against my cheek.
“Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Everything,” I admit in a broken whisper, finally ready to meet his eyes. “I’m frustrated. And angry that those two keep appearing like some annoying pop-up ad from my past saying, ‘Remember, you’re unlovable.’ And the next second, I’m sad because they were the people who were supposed to love me.”
I swallow past the knot in my throat, trying to push my emotions down with it.
“They were supposed to take me for who I am. To build me up, to celebrate my wins, to mourn my losses. But now the only loss I’m mourning is them. And it’s unfair. Why do I have to care if they don’t give a damn? Why can’t I switch those fucking emotions off for good?”
I glance around helplessly because I don’t know where to look. And that makes me angry again. With trembling fingers, I wipe away a tear and lower my voice even further.
“And some days, most days, I know they’re wrong. I’m awesome. A fucking delight to be around.” A sobbing laugh escapes me. “But then the days creep in when I believe them, you know? What if I’m not? What if I deserve it, after all?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, wiping another tear away from my cheek. “Listen to me closely. You are the strongest woman I know. You are radiant. You light up every room you walk into.And I know it’s easy for me to say and much harder for you to believe.”
He lifts my hand and presses a kiss into my palm.
“But I’ll keep reminding you. Every single day that you let me. You deserve love. Youareloved.”
At this point, the tears keep streaming down my face, sobs breaking out of me.
“And they are idiots not to have seen it. Now come on, sweetheart. Breathe with me.”
He puts my hands against his chest, taking slow and deep breaths that I’m trying to imitate.
When I finally get it, I nod. And then I see his lips curl into a small, proud smile, though the amusement doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Should I take you home, sweetheart?” he whispers and lifts my hand to press a kiss into my palm, the tingle from his scruff distracting me. “I think you need a break.”
I quickly shake my head, glancing up at him through wet eyelashes.
“If I go home now, I’ll keep thinking about it,” I whisper and force myself to take a deep breath, swallowing past the ball of emotions in my throat. “I want to stay. I want to help.” Determination makes my voice stronger as I blink up at Lauren. “I want to romanticize the fuck out of life.”
