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Earlier today, Carson called to tell me that he was also running his own private investigation. He told me to watch out for Nick again, but I shut down his suspicions once more. He thought I was being naive to write him off, but I thought he was letting his feelings about Nick cloud his judgment. He didn’t see how Nick had looked the day I was attacked, how scared he’d been. It was like that moment when he held me after the car nearly hit me. Now knowing the history of his parents, the whole thing made sense, why he was so freaked out. And I knew he cared about me as well, so it must have been terrifying.
But I was still scared to take that final leap.
I was his daughter’s mother, so it would be hard for him not to have some kind of emotional attachment to me.
But I wasn’t sure it was love that he felt. Love was a whole other ball game altogether.
Although Ingrid was starting to slowly chip away at the doubt.
“So, when are you going to take pity on my poor nephew and accept his proposal already?” she asked when I called yesterday. We’d already had a whole conversation about Violet’s new painting—a nice relaxing discussion with Jeopardy turned down low on her end. I appreciated our talks. The woman was always an amusing source of wisdom, but whenever the conversation turned to Nick, I got slightly uncomfortable. It felt like she could see through me and get to the main root of my reluctance to trust Nick again.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” she asked, proving me right.
I didn’t say anything, not wanting to admit the truth.
Yes, I was terrified of getting my heart broken again, but I was even more terrified of what happened after…falling apart completely. I’d gone into a deep depression after Nick’s betrayal, and I couldn’t afford to do it again. I had a daughter to take care of, and I didn’t want to jeopardize my mental health because it would inevitably affect her.
And what if I was wrong and none of this thing between Nick and me was real? What if I was just like every other woman who wrote that article piece about him? There was absolutely nothing special about me. Why would he fall in love with me instead of them?
“I don’t blame you for not trusting him yet,” Ingrid continued. “Especially if he’s hurt you in the past…with other women. Lord knows his uncle tried to pull some bullshit with me, and I almost skinned him alive.”
I laughed at her wry tone, breaking the tension. “His uncle cheated on you?”
“Oh, no, dear, nothing like that. I would have killed him. Straight-up murdered him. But he did try to play me, and this was back when we were in the courting stage.” Her voice became warmer as she continued, “See, he wasn’t too attractive back in high school. He was a little funny in the face and he spoke in this farm accent that girls thought was so low class. But I liked him anyway. He wormed his way into my heart. He was a goof, and I’ve always had a weakness for funny men.”
I heard the sigh before she spoke again. "But then, when I became interested in him—I was pretty popular in high school—he suddenly started getting attention from a lot of girls who wanted to see what I saw in him. And God bless his heart. He didn’t know what to do with all that attention. He got it into his head that I would like him more if he became more like the popular guys, all suave and flirty, so one day, he told Mary S. that her hair looked like angels braided it, and I slapped him straight across the face. Told him he could go find another biddy if he wanted to be playing around when I was trying to be serious.”
“Oh gosh.” I laughed out loud, thoroughly entertained by the story. “And what did he do?”
“He straightened up,” Ingrid said. “But by that time, it was too late. I already broke up with him. Took the boy two full years to win back my trust, and he was celibate all that time. Never took any other girl out on a date and was constantly sending me letters and flowers. He just would not let up telling me how sorry he was, explaining that he thought that was what he was supposed to do. Then, one day, when my car broke down in the rain, he drove his father’s beat-up death trap of a truck nearly thirty miles to help me out ‘cause I was stranded by the side of the road.” Her voice was light with wonder, and I could tell it was something that still touched her. “At that point, I figured that I could give him another shot.”
“I bet you wanted to forgive him the whole time, too,” I commented. She said everything in a casual tone, but I could still hear the fondness in her voice, the love, and of course, the pain of missing him. I didn’t know Nick’s uncle, but Ingrid told me all about their love escapades and how he’d gotten sick later in life.
“I did, but I had to make him work for it,” she said now. “It was the only way I knew I could trust him. So I understand how things are between you and my nephew, and I do think you should make him work for it too. But at the same time, don’t be afraid to know when you can take the chance again. Do you understand?”
I nodded through the tightness in my throat. I did understand. But it was so difficult to let go of the fear and let him in again.
The door suddenly pulled open, jogging me out of my thoughts, and Nick walked in.
“Daddy,” Violet exclaimed, tossing her cards on the table and running to his wide-open arms. He beamed at her and swung her up to his hip.
I didn’t know why, but the scene made me slightly emotional, and I remembered how he reacted the first time she called him that. At first, his face flashed with surprise, and then it completely flushed with pleasure.
After which, he looked at me with such tangible emotion in his eyes that it felt combustible.
The same way he was looking at me now.
“Erm,” Taylor muttered after a few seconds of silence. He cleared his throat as he looked between the two of us. “I’ll just wait outside.”
“Thanks,” Nick said in response, but before the bodyguard could move, he was already walking forward, dragging me around the waist to his body and taking my lips in a sweet kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he said after, but I was too dazed to understand the words at first as I stared up into his eyes in surprise.
“Why?” I whispered once it hit me.
“For everything that I did to you,” he said, and then he sighed, putting Violet down. He sat down, and I took the seat beside him.
“I went to visit a bunch of people today,” he shared. “About five of my exes, the women who wrote the article.”
