Preston's Honor(75)

I turned back to Lia and for a moment we stood staring at each other, the gulf of more than a dozen years stretching between us, all the silence, all our mistakes, all the circumstances that had always seemed to be stacked against us, when really it was just us hurting each other again and again. And still, despite all that, the burning love that time or distance or a hundred missteps wouldn’t extinguish. The stillness deep inside that whispered her name, sending it out like sound waves through my soul.

The mural from the restaurant where she worked flashed in my mind, the look on the man’s face that I had identified with not because I’d felt that way about Annalia, but because I still did.

I still did.

And God help me, I always would.

A bird cried out above, the trees rustled in the breeze, a leaf picked up by the wind danced past us, and there was only this moment, and I needed to make it matter.

“I love you,” I breathed, putting every ounce of my heart into the words. “I always have.”

Her eyes widened, then she blinked, once, twice and seemed to still, her fists unclenching where she’d held them by her sides.

“I loved you the day I ran that stupid race. I loved you the night we made Hudson, and I loved you this last year and a half, too, even when you left and I didn’t want to love you anymore. I did anyway. There’s never been a choice. And I know it must be hard for you to believe in my love after everything I’ve done that’s hurt you, but it’s true. God, it’s true. And if you’ll give me another chance to prove it to you, I’ll do anything. Anything.” My words broke off in a strangled whisper as emotion clawed at my throat.

Lia’s lips parted as if in speechless surprise, her eyes soft and still shiny from the tears she’d cried. I stepped forward until I was right in front of her and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. She closed her eyes briefly and let out a small sniffle. I moved a stray piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose from her braid, my finger lingering on the petal softness of her skin.

At the closeness of our bodies, the feel of her skin and the sweet, subtle smell of her, my body reacted, blood rushing south. I let out a small, strangled laugh, exercising my control. No one would ever affect me like this woman. Not even close.

“You . . . love me?” she whispered.

“All my life. I always have, and I always will.” I knew that now, and it scared me, but there was also peace in the acceptance. And it gave me all the more reason to fight for this, for us. “Didn’t you know?”

“How could I know? You never told me.”

I let out a breath. “I’m not always good with words.” I gave her a half smile. “You may have noticed.”

Her lip quirked minutely, too. “I may have.” The words were said tenderly, though, softly.

I smoothed another piece of hair away from her face. “Let me prove it, Annalia,” I repeated. “Let me try. Please.”

“Oh, Preston,” she started, her voice soft and still slightly soggy-sounding. “I love you, too. It’s . . . it’s the first thing I can truly remember.”

I let my breath out slowly, my heart pounding in my chest with love and relief.

“But . . . “ she started, and I tensed slightly, “do you ever wonder if we really know each other?” At the earnest expression on her face and the way she hadn’t moved away from me, I relaxed, thinking about her question.

“I remember having that thought about you once actually. I noticed everything about you, and yet knew very little about what was inside your heart, what your life was really like.” I tilted my head. “Do you think . . . ah hell, do you think maybe we need to start again as if it’s the beginning? Because Lia, maybe it is. Or rather, maybe it needs to be.”

“Is that even possible? We have a baby together.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why we need to make it possible. We need to try. For us, but also for him.”

Lia’s eyes moved over my face for a moment and then she sighed, taking the end of her braid in her fingers and moving it back and forth as her eyes moved to the side and she bit her lip. “Start at the beginning . . .” she murmured. She took a deep breath and seemed to square her shoulders slightly as she let her braid drop and looked back up into my eyes. “All right. Let’s . . . let’s go back to the beginning.”

I smiled, feeling a sudden burst of love and gratitude. “All right,” I said through my smile. I took her hands in mine and she smiled back. Looking into her beautiful eyes, I saw my past and my future. I saw the young girl who had spat a half-eaten strawberry into my brother’s hand. I saw an amazing, strong woman, who had the courage to come back to me. I saw my love, my heart, my home.





CHAPTER TWENTY


Annalia



The dinner crowd was just letting up as I made my way back to the kitchen of Abuelo’s and dropped off a pile of dishes to the dishwasher. “Thanks, Manuel,” I said as he took the dishes with a large smile before going back to singing loudly to the song that was in his headphones, something about duele el amor. Love hurts.

Indeed.

But.

Ah, but.

I love you. I always have.

As I cashed out the bills for two tables on the computer, I thought about the day before—the anger and the wonderment. Maybe we need to start again as if it’s the beginning, he’d said. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what he meant by that, but what I thought he was saying was, let’s try to let go of the resentment and hostility. Let’s start with a clean slate and attempt to do things the right way, no secrets, no holding back. I wanted that. I’d told him the truth when I’d told him so. But I’d never been forthcoming with my feelings, and I wasn’t sure it was going to be easy. For that matter, he could be the poster boy for the strong, silent type. His thoughts had always been very much his own. I wondered how successful we were going to be.