“What if I can’t do it? What if I simply can’t hand over my heart?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
What would it mean to not be with Aidan? To never see him again, never touch him or...
The pain was sharp and instant. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She needed him. Wanted him. Loved him.
He’d been right, all those weeks ago. When he’d helped her see that the real pain of her childhood didn’t come from her father’s fists, but from the reality that her mother had stood by while it happened. Aidan wouldn’t do that, and neither would she. As her brother had told her, she wasn’t the type of mother who would let her children be abused. She would break the cycle.
She’d come so far. Everything she claimed to want was right there. All she had to do was take a single step of faith.
“You know, this is all going to go very badly if it turns out he’s not in love with me,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I’m going to feel pretty foolish.”
“Won’t it be better to know? You love him, Shelby. Don’t you want to say it to him? At least once?”
“I do.”
They looked at each other and started to laugh.
Shelby pressed her hands to her stomach. “While I love the dress...” she began.
“It’s not the one. I know. But I thought trying it on would shock you and it seems to have, so yay, me.”
Shelby laughed again. She turned and hugged her friend. “You’re very good to me.”
“And you’re good to me. Now go claim your man.”
“I’ve never claimed a man before.”
“Then isn’t it about time?”
It took Shelby a few minutes to change back into her street clothes. As she walked home, she thought about what she was going to say when she finally spoke to Aidan. The words were a jumble in her head. Well, she would have time. She had to go to the office and talk to Fay first. Get his schedule. Once she knew he was in town, she would call him and—
She turned the corner only to see Aidan and Charlie sitting on her front porch. The bichon saw her and raced toward her. She dropped to her knees and held out her arms. Charlie threw himself at her. She hugged him tight.
“Hey, there, my man,” she whispered against his soft fur. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He swiped her face with puppy kisses. She hung on for another second before standing and looking at Aidan.
He’d come to his feet, as well. They stared at each other.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
He didn’t sound mad or disgusted or any number of negative things she deserved. He sounded like Aidan.
She thought about all they’d been through. How he was game for anything—from baby showers to pedicures to just sitting around and talking. He never said he didn’t want to or complained. She remembered how he’d had this idea of the dog he wanted and had instead fallen for sweet, little Charlie. So there he was—the big, burly mountain man with a bichon frise.
She thought about how her father had hit her until she was unconscious and how her mother had never done anything to protect her. How Kipling had been the one to get her safely away. She thought of how Aidan had faced down his own parental torment.
“Shelby?”
Oh, right. He’d asked a question. “I’m okay. You?”
“Fine.” He moved toward her but didn’t touch her. His dark gaze settled on her face. “I had to come see you.”
“I’m glad you did. I have to tell you something. A lot of things.”
Fear filled her. Fear of handing the very essence of who she was to this man. And yet, there was no one else she would ever love as much. No one else she would trust or need or want to be with.