Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(78)

I looked at him, this gorgeous, sexy, strong man so willing to do anything for me, and wondered if it could be possible he was telling the truth. If it was possible he could love me the way he said he did. If it was possible I was worth it.

If it was possible he’d stay forever.

But I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.

Instead, I opened the door, letting the cold air rush in. “You need to go, Henry. Forget about me.”

He stood still for a moment, his chest out, his hands curled into fists. Then he shoved the door closed again. “I’ll go. I just want to say one more thing, Sylvia—something I’ve been thinking about all day. I grew up in a crazy household with three reckless, lunatic brothers and two devoted parents who managed to stay married and raise us without losing their minds. Did we fight? Hell, yes. Were we rich? Hell, no. We didn’t have a huge home or fancy cars, we didn’t take luxury vacations, and for me new clothes meant hand-me-downs full of holes that my older brother Anthony had outgrown. But it was a great way to grow up, because we were there for each other. We took care of one another. We always knew, no matter what, we had family. That’s the feeling I miss as an adult. That sense of belonging and loyalty. That’s what I wanted to recreate. Because what I love more than anything is the idea of taking care of people I love, protecting them, providing for them. And I want to be the one that takes care of you, Sylvia. Because you deserve someone who adores you. Who will put you first while you’re busy putting everyone else first.”

“Henry,” I croaked, tears dripping from my eyes.

He held up one hand. “Let me finish. I know you’re a mother first and foremost, and I’d never get in the way of that. But I love you, and I couldn’t walk away without a fight.”

His eyes pierced mine so deeply I felt it in my soul. I wanted so badly to throw myself in his arms and say yes, take care of me, yes, protect me, yes, adore me. You’re exactly what I want, what I need, what I wished for. Together we’ll show the kids what real love looks like. We’ll make them believe in it.

But the words wouldn’t come out—they were prisoners of a fear that ran too deep in my veins.

“You have to walk away, Henry,” I wept softly. “I don’t know how to let myself be loved that way. And I’m too scared to try.”

He stared at me, his jaw clenched. “Okay, Sylvia. You win.” Then he yanked the door open, and a second later he was gone.

I shut the door quickly so I wouldn’t have to watch him walk away. Leaning my forehead against it, I continued to cry as quietly as I could.

That’s when I heard the voice behind me at the top of the stairs.

“Mom?”

I gulped back a sob and tried to speak normally. “I’ll be right there, Whit.”

She paused. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” I used the bottom of my sweater to dry my face. “Give me a minute, all right?”

“Okay.”

I did my best to pull myself together before going upstairs, but it was a futile effort. Thankfully, Whitney’s light was already out when I entered her room. She was tucked beneath the sheets, holding her bear at her chest. I sat at the edge of her bed and smoothed her hair back.

“Who was at the door?” she asked.

“Mr. DeSantis.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a minute, playing with her stuffed bear’s ears. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I knew it was Mr. DeSantis. And I heard you talking.”

“Oh.” I struggled for the right words. “I’m—I’m sorry you heard us. It must have been very upsetting. But I promise, Whitney, there is nothing going on between us. We are not dating.”

“I know. I heard.”

“After you and I talked on New Year’s Eve, he and I decided we wouldn’t get romantically involved.”

She hesitated. “Because of me?”

“No! No, honey, it wasn’t because of you. It’s because it was too soon. I wasn’t ready. Ever since then, we’ve only worked together. But even that is going to stop now.”

She rolled onto her side, facing me. “He said he loves you.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Do you believe him?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Whitney. That’s part of the problem.”

“Do you love him?”

“Not the way I love you.”

“But do you love him?”

“That’s . . . that’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a yes or no question.”

Oh God, I was totally fucking this up, wasn’t I? What was the right thing to do? Tell her the truth and risk her feeling guilty and scared? Or lie to her to make her feel safe? I searched my heart and found myself unable to do either one. Instead, I tried to think about what my own mother would have said.

“Yes, Whitney. I do love him. But I don’t want to. My feelings are all mixed up right now—I’m working on sorting them out. The important thing is, nothing is going to change. All the promises I made to you, I’m going to keep. We’re going to move into our new house, fix it up just the way we want it, fill our barn with animals to take care of, and have the best time ever.”