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“Why did you say no?” I asked, needing to hear her answer.
“Because he’s not you,” she replied, her voice strong despite the tears welling in her eyes. “I once loved Foster, but he’ll never compare to you. I love you, Lincoln. With all my heart.”
“Nothing for him?” I asked, needing reassurance.
“Not a shred,” she said, her voice breaking. “He doesn’t deserve me. He never did. I made a mistake.” Erika’s voice cracked as she sniffled, tears threatening to fall.
“Don’t cry,” I said gently, my thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. “You don’t need to shed any more tears.”
“I damaged us. I damaged you,” she whispered, her voice heavy with regret.
“Look at me,” I urged, lifting her chin so our eyes met. I took the handkerchief from her hand and gently wiped away her tears. “Do I look damaged?”
“You look sad,” she said, her voice small. “I’m the cause.”
“I’m not sad,” I assured her, shaking my head. “I forgive you, and we can move past this.”
“You told me you couldn’t forgive me,” she reminded me, doubt creeping into her voice.
“I was angry,” I admitted, the memory of that moment still raw. “It was in the heat of the moment. You know how stubborn I can be.”
“I do,” she said with a faint smile, “but I hurt you. You might forgive me, but I can never forgive myself.”
“It won’t work if you don’t let it go,” I said softly, my hand cupping her face. “I’m giving you permission to let it go. You changed me, Erika. You made me want to settle down, to be a one-woman man. No one else has ever done that.”
I pulled her closer, her soft skin warm against mine. “This dress… it’s something else,” I said, my voice low as my fingers traced the fabric.
“I picked it with you in mind,” she admitted, her smile bittersweet. “I was disappointed when you didn’t show up.”
“I’m always fashionably late,” I teased, though the weight of our earlier separation still lingered between us.
“Who was the woman with you?” Erika asked.
“Carla Desantis,” I said casually. “We’re old friends.”
“You seemed… intimate,” she observed, trying to keep the jealousy from her voice but failed.
“Not at all,” I assured her. “I’ve known her for years. She’s like family—and she’s engaged.”
“Engaged?”She asked, surprised. “I didn’t see a ring on her finger.”
“Carla’s non-traditional,” I explained. “She doesn’t buy into all that.”
“I’m not,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
“You’re not what?” I asked, curiosity sparking.
“Non-traditional,” she clarified.
“Does that mean you want a ring?”
“I want everything,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “I want what my parents had for the first few years of their marriage—except I don’t want it to go bad.”
“I can give that to you,” I promised, my voice steady. “I’ll be faithful, decent. You’re special to me.”
“Lincoln…” she began, her voice full of emotion.
“No more Elliott?” I asked, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.
