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Vi’s back pressed against the bench. She motioned to the tablet next to her. “I read one of Daddy’s letters this morning. I’ve always wished I could have a do-over, but his letter brought it right here.” She held one hand an inch away from her face. “The abuse made me angry and rebellious. On prom night, I … um … made the poor decision to sleep with my boyfriend.” She dispelled a breath. “Probably the reason I don’t care for fancy, overblown events.”
Rory rubbed her hand.
She wiped away tears. “Sorry. This subject sends me on a crying jag. When I figured out I was pregnant and told Mom, she wanted me to have an abortion?—”
A grimace shone on his features.
Vi nodded at what he didn’t say. “I refused. It got so bad, I moved out and lived with my boyfriend for a few weeks.” She sighed, remembering, then forced more explanation. “Another terrible decision. When I went back home, Mom insisted I give the baby up for adoption. I had pre-eclampsia?—”
“What’s pre?—?”
“A serious condition with uncontrolled high blood pressure. Add anemia and depression to the list, and I was a mess. I wanted to keep him, only I didn’t have the strength to fight Mother.” She choked out the last words.
“A boy? You have a son?” Rory almost sounded excited.
Vi shook her head. “Had a son. I got to hold him. Then his adoptive parents took him, and I never saw him again.” She met Rory’s eyes, and a side of her mouth raised without mirth. “He had a chock of red hair.”
In one fluid movement, Rory closed the gap, wrapping his arms around her. “Come here.”
A bird sang in a nearby tree as she gripped the front of his shirt and sobbed. Even after all these years, the pain still reverberated.
“I’m sorry, Red. So sorry,” he murmured into her hair. His arms comforted her. She dabbed at her eyes, trying to gain composure.
Rory released her one centimeter at a time. Sniffing, he scrubbed a hand down his face and beard.
What Vi had to do next would break her heart. She scooted away, trying to breathe around the brick in her chest. “I needed to explain so you could understand why I don’t, why I don’t date or do relationships. Why we can’t …” Vi fiddled with an errant curl, twisting and untwisting it around her fingers.
“You’re right. I don’t understand.” Rory’s tone could have flattened a tire. “You told me the night of our prequel date there was more to the story. I’m so glad you finally shared it.” He gazed at her, eyes unwavering. “Knowing this only makes me love you more.”
“How can you love me? I had a baby and gave him up for adoption. What kind of person gives her baby away?” Vi’s voice rose.
Rory’s eyes were soft with compassion. “Vi, my mom died when I was in high school. I was so angry and missed her so much I willingly took whatever a girl wanted to give me. But I’m not that guy anymore. And you’re not a confused sixteen-year-old girl.” He squinted at her through the sunlight. “How is saving your baby’s life a bad thing?”
“It’s not. But I wanted him and still miss him.” She wiped her eyes. “I do realize at sixteen I wouldn’t have been a good mother.”
Rory snorted. “At sixteen, being a dad meant nothing. Not even on my radar. I would have mangled fatherhood. You were young and hurting. Sounds to me like you did the most loving thing possible. And I’ve been telling you six ways to Sunday I love you. You having a son doesn’t change anything for me.”
Vi pinched her shoulders to ease the tension in her neck. “Rory, I did everything wrong.”
His head rocked from side to side. “It doesn’t matter. I was doing everything right the day my foot got crushed. The only thing that makes sense is grace. God has long since covered all our sins. We don’t deserve the freedom we have from past mistakes, poor decisions, and tragic accidents. You simply accept it and get on with living your life.”
Shocked, she stared at him. “Daddy used to tell me the same thing. He’s the one who got me to church—so I could learn about Jesus’s sacrifice and how He forgave me. But the past is still a club beating me over the head whenever I think about the future.”
His shoulders lifted easily. “I’ve been there. It gets better, but you have to fight for every inch.”
For the first time in years, hope sprouted in her heart. She took a breath, surprised at the lightness of her chest. In wonder, she opened her mouth, eager to share what was happening on the inside. Then a thought occurred to her, and she closed it. Swallowing hard, she asked, “So what about us?”
There was no hesitation in Rory’s answer. “You don’t belong here, Vi. You need to come back to Valiant, to your house. I can’t finish it without you.”
Vi bit her lip. “Only the house?”
Eyes twinkling, he cupped her chin, tipping it inches away from his lips. “I need a massage too. And more hugs and kisses.”
She raised a brow, forcing herself to look away from those enticing lips. “I’d almost given up on the massage. And you’ll follow through?”
Rory whispered, “Not a thing wrong with my follow-through. You want a kiss?”
She shouldn’t. Once Rory had time to digest what she’d told him, he would feel differently. Instead, she inclined her head the merest fraction and let his mouth claim hers. The tension plaguing her since she’d come to Houston evaporated like raindrops on a sunny day.
