Page 74 of Don't Call Me Sweetheart

“Go,” I said.

“We’re going too,” Suzie said. “Trick-or-treating, I mean. I expect we’ll be back in about an hour, or whenever the kids have a meltdown.”

“I’ll come with you,” Nora said. “Improve the adult-to-child ratio.”

Holiday House emptied out, leaving me and Emma.

“Okay.” Emma pulled me into the living room and directed me to the floral-print sofa. “Sit. Have a pillow. Do you want something to drink?”

I shook my head. I toed off my sneakers and sat cross-legged on the couch, clutching the throw pillow Emma had given me in my lap.

“Spill it,” Emma said. “What happened with Max?”

“Nothing happened. I just…couldn’t.”

Emma frowned. “Couldn’t what? He’s hot and smart and likable. What couldn’t you do with him? Because the way he looked at you, I think it’s a safe bet he was willing to negotiate.”

The words made me ache. I loved the way he looked at me. Like he saw me. Like he wanted me. No one else had ever looked at me like that.

“George—”

“No.” Emma held up her hand, stopping me. “No, Kate. You are not going to tell me that you loved a man ten years ago, and he died, so you can’t love a man now. Because I won’t believe it. I’ve watched you love so hard, Kate. So fearlessly. The way you love Jessica and me and Suzie. You and I have both lost people we love, so we know how fragile life is. It’s not guaranteed. You know that, but you’ve never let it stop you from loving. So I don’t believe you’re scared of losing Max the way you lost George. And if you are, well…snap out of it.”

“I’m not scared Max is going to die. Well, I am, of course, the same way I’m scared that everyone in my life is going to die, but mostly I don’t let that fear consume me.” But there was more than one way to lose a person. I sucked in a breath. “Maybe I am scared of losing Max the way I lost George. Because I lost George before he died.”

“What do you mean?”

So I told her everything. It was a relief to come out of hiding. I wasn’t the town sweetheart. I wasn’t the Widow of Hart’s Ridge. I was Kate, flawed and broken.

Emma leaned her head back against the couch, lifting her gaze to the ceiling. “Wow. That is a lot.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot. Now you understand why I can’t be with Max.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t understand that at all. Why can’t you be with Max, Kate?”

I frowned. The reason looked pretty clear to me. “Because. I ruined George’s life, Emma, and it’s my fault he died.”

“I’m sure you think that’s true,” Emma said slowly. Carefully. “It’s not true, but go ahead and tell me why you think it is.”

“I got pregnant—”

“He got you pregnant.”

“I chose to keep it—”

“He chose to be involved. He chose to marry you.”

“You sound like Max,” I said crossly.

“George knew how babies were made, Kate.”

I huffed, exasperated. “He made those choices selflessly. He married me because he wanted Jessica to know her dad. He joined the military to take care of us. He—” I choked on a sob. “He died helping an old lady change her tire. Everything he did was for other people. He always wanted to do the right thing.”

Emma rubbed my arm. “I know, honey.”

“All my choices were selfish. I married him because I was scared of raising Jessica alone. I didn’t stop him from joining the military, even though I knew it wasn’t what he really wanted. I was always mad at him, always nagging—”

“Don’t,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t use that word. Women are nags because not only do men have to be told what to do, they have to be told five times. It’s not like you were out partying. When he was home, did he ever once offer to take care of his own daughter so you could see your friends? Even once?”

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