Page 79 of Love, Untangled

Joanna frowned. “I’m not exactly sure what one has to do with the other, but…okay.”

“My relationship with my mother bleeds into how I treat those around me. Like with you. I wasn’t sure you were genuine in your offer to help.”

Joanna’s facial features cleared though her eyes grew sad. “Ah. Because your mother wasn’t ever genuine.”

Pen nodded. “So…I assumed others would act like her. It’s what I know.” She worried her lower lip as she’d done most days for the last weeks. She winced as it split open yet again. “It’s why I expected Leon to be angry. To want to hurt me.”

“Instead of helping you, like he told the police?”

“Yeah. I just assumed he was like my mother.” Pen said the words slowly, letting the realization crash over her. Except this time, her mind was free from the buzz of adrenaline and fear. “Just like I assumed that Carlo truly didn’t want me. Because my mother never did.” Pen glanced up at Joanna. “Thanks for talking me through this. I’ve been worrying over it endlessly.”

“You’re welcome?”

Pen smiled at the question in her voice. “Thanks. Really. I’ll see you next week at book club.”

“Great.”

Pen snatched up her tote and darted from the shop. She strode down the street to her car, determination flaming in her chest.

She missed Carlo. He missed her. He’d shown her, when the situation was dire, that he cared more than he feared. This time, it was her turn to show him.

Chapter 41

Carlo

He fidgeted on Pen’s porch. Maybe he shouldn’t be here, but as soon as he flew back to North Carolina, there was nowhere else he wanted to be. Even his mother understood.

When Pen pulled her little hatchback into her driveway, he rose from the swing, smoothing his button-down. She exited her vehicle, talking to Alpaca Man, who had made a beeline for Penelope the moment she drove in. The alpaca stayed closer to home, closer to Lydia, but he still loved Penelope and to roam. Carlo hoped that never changed.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide as she stared up at him. “Carlo. I didn’t expect to see you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Hi, Penelope.”

“Um, do you want to come inside?”

“Not yet. I mean, I do, but first…I…”

She looked fresh and pretty in her leggings and handmade sweater. It had a wide neck and fell off her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of the creamy flesh. He missed kissing her there. Hell, he just missed her.

What to say? What could he say?

“I love you.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted in that perfect, pink O. Before he wrapped her in his arms, she jumped forward, landing on his chest and clinging to him, tugging his head down. Her lips touched his, rubbed, took measure—remembered. He groaned, his fingers tightened against her hips. He loved her enthusiasm, her infectious joy, her ability to live in the moment. He loved her, all of her, even the dark parts that she considered unlovable or incapable.

Before he could deepen the kiss, she slid down his chest and back onto the flat soles of her feet. She ran her palms from his nape around and down his chest, resting them on his pecs. He resisted the urge to flex for her.

“I realized something today, Carlo.”

He nodded, mute thanks to nerves shivering up and down his spine. If she didn’t want him, he didn’t know what he’d do. A future without his Sunshine was dark, bleak. Too terrible to contemplate.

She must have realized he was incapable of speech because she continued, “I’ve always treated every relationship I had through the lens of my mother’s behavior. I expected you to hurt me, so I wasn’t really surprised when you did.”

Carlo opened his mouth, but she pressed her forefinger against his lips. Her touch remained soft, soothing, but he quieted under it.

“You hurt me because I expected it and because I didn’t look hard enough at all you’ve done for me in the weeks and months prior to that day. I took one event and used it as the foundation of our relationship as opposed to each of our interactions, looking at the entirety of our time spent together. I don’t know why I did or do that. But now I realize that I do. And that choice wasn’t fair to you. Yes, you hurt me, but I hurt you when I shut down. I should have communicated better about why I was so upset. But I didn’t because you’re right. I am young, and this—what we share—is new to me. I’ve never loved anyone like I do you, Carlo. Not only that, but I’m not sure I can ever love anyone like I love you. And it’s that level of opening up that makes me so very vulnerable to your moods and actions. But you’re not responsible for my happiness. I am, and I want to be happy and in love, the two of us.” She inhaled a shuddery breath. “I want that very, very much.”

The prickly knot of emotions Carlo had carried around started to lessen. He nuzzled into the hair at her temple, pressing kisses to her soft cheek, now almost completely healed. “I’ve missed you, Sunshine.”

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