“I think we’ve earned each other.”

She cut him a look, wondering what he meant.

“If we’d met earlier, we might not have known how to treat each other. We had to go through hell to get to this moment where we appreciate—and know how to treat—each other. And sweetheart, hear me. I want this enough that I’ll work hard for us, and I won’t give up. No one has ever made me feel this good, and no one has ever fit me so perfectly.”

“Yes. I agree.”

“But also, we know going in, we’ve both got triggers. I think with your ex, you had to be in a good mood all the time. You had to be the cheerleader. With me, you don’t have to do that. You can be yourself. You can show me all your moods because I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand that? I fucked up by not telling you about Lorelei. You’re not just someone I’m dating. You gave me the gift of trusting me enough to come out here and live with me, and I didn’t honor it by giving you full disclosure about what you’re getting yourself into.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to hear you say that. That I can be my whole self instead of pretending I’m not terrified every minute of every day. You can’t imagine how many times I had to remind my ex that I was in this, too. It wasn’t just him who lost everything, who worried about our future, who couldn’t sleep at night for the fear of winding up penniless. And he would just say it was on him to get us out of this situation, that I could never make the kind of money we needed to save us, and so I just shut my mouth and went back to being the voice of hope because…”

The truth came roaring up, crashing through the wall she’d erected, and she buried her face in his shirt.

“Hey. You can tell me anything. You know that, right? If we’re really in this together, then every emotion in your beautiful heart is mine. Every tear you shed…it’s mine. Give it all to me.”

She hadn’t told a single person. How could she? “I found a letter on his computer. It was hidden in a folder called ‘Family.’ It was to his older brother and it said, If you get this, it means I’m gone.” Tears spilled down her cheek. “I couldn’t tell him I saw it. I had no business being on his computer, but I knew something was up, and he wasn’t talking to me. It was at the same time he’d had his will redone, and he’d written out a whole document on what I should do in the event of his passing. I was freaking out, so I checked his computer to look for clues.”

“He’s a selfish prick. You should never have to live with that kind of fear.”

“I finally got him to talk about it, and he said it wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he couldn’t leave me destitute, so as a last resort, he had an escape hatch.”

“Meaning, he’d off himself and leave you with a fat life insurance policy?”

She nodded.

“Jesus, Margot. No wonder you played cheerleader for seven years.”

“It was awful, especially because I couldn’t tell anyone. I had to keep that horrible secret.”

“I can’t imagine what he was going through. To lose everything, to not have hope you’d recover…I can’t know what it’s like to be in his shoes. But the burden you carried is unreasonable and unfair.”

“Well, it’s my fault for snooping. I swear, I’d never checked his computer or his phone before that. But when I found that letter, I was shaking like a leaf.”

“You fucking amaze me.”

“Me? What do you mean?” There was nothing unique about her experience. Despite how social media made it look, no one got through life unscathed. Everyone dealt with hardship.

“I’ve never admired and respected anyone more than you. And he’s an asshole to let go of a woman who would stand by him through the worst of times. He had a true partner in you. You’re fierce, loyal, and unstoppable, and I’m so damn lucky to have you. Mark my words. Karma’s gonna bite him on the ass. Hard.”

* * *

Every morning of his life, Beau stood at the counter and ate whatever fruit he could find in the basket, drank his coffee, and read the news on his phone.

Except this one. This morning, he sat in the banquette with Margot, peace spreading into every crevice of his body. Until her, he’d never really connected with anyone. Which meant in every relationship he had a vague sense of unease that he was saying the wrong things or being misunderstood.

She was talking about how much she liked his house, but he was having a hard time listening over the tsunami of emotion building inside him. The emotion had a name, but it was too soon to say it. Way too soon. Especially after last night when he’d clearly seen the effect of moving too quickly.

She’d packed up everything she owned and moved into someone else’s life. If he said the words now, it might add more pressure. He had to be careful, give her a chance to adjust.

When he said those three words, he wanted her to believe him.

“My house was totally different,” she said, oblivious to his turmoil. “I worked with an interior designer—oh, this was over twenty years ago—and I never updated or changed anything since. I thought I loved it. I thought it fit me, but I’ve never seen anything like this.” She gestured around the room. “It gives the impression of a small and cozy cabin, but this place is actually huge.”

“That’s because we’ve added on over the years.”

Hair still damp from a shower, Walker came into the kitchen, heading straight for the highchair where his son shoved fistfuls of mashed banana into his mouth. “When my mom left, it was just a five-room cabin. But over the years, as the mine started producing, my dad kept adding on. You can’t tell, but he kept the integrity of the original structure.”

Awareness dawned on Margot’s lovely features. “You kept the prospector’s cabin, didn’t you? Sam and Joseph’s place?”