The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(34)

His eyes drop to the blanket. “Good. I’m glad you had someone. You had to be scared.”

“Terrified,” I laugh, and I’m glad I can find the humor in the situation now. I was so worried about becoming a mom so young, especially pregnant by a man who was going through such a tragedy. “I never missed my birth control, but Seda didn’t get the memo. That girl is a force of nature.”

He smiles, sadness in his eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“And Caleb … he’s been good to you? Good to her?” He looks away from me as soon as the words leave his mouth. He never liked Caleb much before, so I can’t imagine how he feels now, but he’s handling it, all of this, better than I could’ve ever expected.

“The best.”

His eyes shoot back to mine, brows furrowed. “I remember what you said before, but I have to ask again, why did you get divorced?”

I rub the blanket between my thumb and index finger, seeking a small amount of comfort in the gesture to get me through this. “I didn’t lie to you then—when I gave my heart away to you, I never fully got it back, and I realized that I would never be able to love Caleb the way he loved me. It was infinitely unfair to him, and I couldn’t do that. I was already planning to file when he told me he was ready for us to have a baby. He wanted Seda to be a big sister and I just—” I close my eyes, treacherous tears leaking from the corner. I feel his fingers collect my tears in a gentle caress, but I don’t dare open them. When his touch disappears, I continue on. “Caleb is a better person than I am, and I couldn’t…” I shake my head. “He deserves to find the love I had once, because he won’t have that with me. I think if I had never met you, we could’ve had a beautiful life together, but the fact of the matter is, I did meet you and that changes everything.” He flinches like I’ve slapped him. “Oh, Thayer.” Now I’m the one reaching out to touch him. I place my hand on his cheek and he puts his over mine.

“I’ve really ruined your life, haven’t I?” He says it with a hint of humor, but I know he’s aching at the thought of it.

I shake my head. “No, Thayer, that’s not what I meant at all.” Stroking my thumb over his cheek, I go on. “You taught a broken, abused girl what love is supposed to feel like. Before that, I had no idea what to base it on. Falling for you was the most confusing, all-consuming, thing I’ve ever done. I don’t regret it. I never have.”

He exhales a breath and it’s like he loses a hundred pounds with it. “I’ve worried a lot, over the years, about how you felt toward me—if you ended up feeling like I took advantage of you or something. Especially with your history.” He shakes his head sadly. “I didn’t want to have been a cause of more trauma in your life.”

“Trust me, Thayer—” I’m not sure I’ll get used to being able to say his name again. “You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. No regrets.” Dipping a piece of bread in oil, I venture to ask, “After Laith came … what happened? You were in a bad place. It worried me. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

He sets his food aside and lays down on his side, propping his head in his hand. A curl falls over his forehead, my fingers twitching with the desire to push it back, but I keep my hands to myself. I want to take things slow. Thayer and I … it’s so easy, so right with him, and that makes it feel difficult to go at a speed that’s necessary.

“Mostly he yelled at me—which I needed. Told me I was a waste of space and a shame to my son’s memory.” He takes a deep breath, the pain of that loss always hard to bear. “It worked. I started grief counseling and learned to channel my emotions in healthier ways.”

“Like what?” I ask, curiously.

His cheeks turn the barest hint of pink. “Crafts … and stuff.”

“Crafts?” I repeat, trying not to smile. “Care to elaborate for me?”

The pink in his cheeks deepens until he’s full-blown blushing. “Well, my therapist had me try out some different things until something stuck.”

“You’re really going to make me pull this out of you, aren’t you?” He says something in a rush of words that is impossible to decipher. “Huh?”

Slowing down, he says, “Sewing, okay? I started sewing dog bows for Winnie and that morphed into dog clothes.”

I stare at him, stunned.

Did this lumberjack looking man just tell me he sews clothing for his dog? I can’t possibly have heard him right.

“She said I had to find something that wasn’t already something I enjoyed, so that knocked out a lot of things like carpentry, plants, puzzles,” he starts ticking things off on his fingers, “camping—”

“You like camping?”

I hate that I’m practically panting at the visual of Thayer in the outdoors. A shirtless Thayer chopping wood? Sign. Me. Up.

I suddenly have a desire to go camping.

“I love it,” he says with a grin, his eyes lighting up. “I go a lot. You should come with me sometime?”

“Are there bathrooms?”

His smile grows bigger. “There are trees.”