Page 149 of Only Mine
“I was wrong.” He keeps his eyes on mine, but his sentence sounds like he dragged it over gravel first. “I thought I was protecting her and shielding myself.”
I cross my arms, hugging my own body against the growing chill. “And now?”
“Now I know what it costs to keep you out.” His jaw works, the muscle there jumping. “It didn’t protect Ivy. It just taught her that love is something you run from.”
The rain picks up, gentle but insistent. Droplets catch in my hair and run down my neck. I should be cold, but now I’m burning from the inside.
“You can’t just decide that.” I fight to keep steady. “You can’t just wake up one morning and change your mind about me being worth the risk.”
Saint stands then, slow and deliberate. The bench creaks as he rises to his full height and brings us closer.
“It wasn’t one day.” His voice drops as I lift my chin to keep my gaze on him. “It was every day. Every fucking day without you.”
The rain slides between us, a curtain of silver that does nothing to dilute the beauty of his eyes. I want to surrender to him, but the memory of his rejection still stings like a fresh stab wound.
The honesty in his voice makes it hurt to breathe. This isn’t the Saint I’ve come to know, the man who guards his words like they’re made of gold and communicates in grunts and nods and rare, precious smiles.
“I need more than that,” I whisper. “I need to know this isn’t temporary. That the next time someone recognizes you or asks about us, you won’t shut down. I would never put Ivy in danger.Ever.”
“I had a nanny problem,” Saint says quietly.
I’m taken aback. “What?”
“That’s what started all of this.” Saint runs his hand through his mist-dampened hair. “I needed someone to watch Ivy, and the universe sent you instead.”
“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“I’m saying you were the opposite of convenient.” A flicker of a smile crosses his face. “You were the least convenient person who could have walked into my life.”
“I was temporary,” I say, bristling. “And helping you out of a bind.”
“Fuck, I’m not saying this right.” Saint spins on his heel, then comes back. “You were never temporary. You were a fucking wildfire that burned down every wall I built. And then when I saw how much Ivy loved you, how much I—” He stops. “I panicked.”
My heart keeps hammering. “What about my job? The publicity? The comments? The risk to your privacy?”
“Let them try.” A raindrop slides down his temple, along the sharp line of his jaw. “I spent three years teaching my daughter to be brave. Then I met you and forgot how to prove it. I was wrong, Wrenley. The thing that hurt us the most was me pushing you away.”
The rain picks up, but neither of us moves. Saint reaches into Ivy’s bucket, pulling out the broken heart rock. He holds it between us.
“She painted this the night after you left. Asked me why I ‘broke’ Miss Wrenley.” His thumb traces the jagged lightning bolt splitting the red heart. “I told her adults sometimes make mistakes. She said that was stupid because mistakes can be fixed.”
My throat closes.
“She’s been setting three plates at the table every night,”he continues. “Keeps asking when you’re coming home. Not if. When.”
Saint clasps both my hands in his with Ivy’s heart rock in between. “What kind of father does this make me?”
Our combined hands blur through my tears. “One who’s learning.”
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Saint is close enough that I have to tilt my head back to see his face. Rain streams down his cheeks. “But Ivy does. She’s been asking me every day if I scared you away forever.”
“And what do you tell her?”
“That I’m trying to fix my mistake.” His hands release mine to frame my face, thumbs brushing away rain and tears. “She said I better grovel really, really good because you’re worth it.”
A laugh breaks through my sob. “She said grovel?”
“Her exact words. Apparently she learned it from that princess movie where the prince has to win back the girl.” His mouth quirks in the ghost of a smile. “She also said I’m supposed to get on my knees.”
