the altar to get married without telling me the truth, and that’s not something I’m sure I can forgive.”
“You don’t think that’s a bit harsh?” I ask. Because while I understand and agree with everything she has said, shouldn’t we have enough love and care between us that forgiveness should at least be an option on the table?
“How do I trust you?” she asks. “I don’t even know you.”
“You can let me earn it back,” I suggest, and I know it’s a good option because that gives her pause. She looks back at the church, weighing that in her mind. In her moment of indecisiveness, I push a little more. “Do you still love me?”
Her head whips back toward me, red hair flying and scattering the snowflakes around her. “I love what I thought you were.”
“We’re talking about the difference between me being a car salesman and a security agent,” I point out.
It’s the wrong thing to say, and I realize it the moment the words are out of my mouth. She glares at me. “It’s the difference between being an honest man and being a liar.”
She’s not wrong about that. Again, I think she’s still more angry than hurt, and maybe time will lessen that pain for her.
I nod in understanding, bringing my hand up to wrap around the back of her neck as I step in close. “I get that. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me at some point. I am not giving up on us, Jaime.”
She doesn’t try to pull away, but she doesn’t say anything either. Just gazes up at me with mistrust and confusion.
“I want for us to be able to talk again,” I suggest. “Maybe you’ll even let me explain a bit more about why I did what I did.”
Her eyes dart left, and she stares at the church again. I reach into my coat pocket, then pull out the small gift I’ve been carrying. It’s wrapped in red foil paper with a tiny silver bow. It’s small, square, and clearly a ring box. It had not failed my notice that she was not wearing her wedding band Sunday night at dinner, although I have not taken mine off.
“I got you a Christmas present,” I say, and she turns back to look at the gift in my hand.
She warily stares at it before lifting her gaze to mine before returning it to the box. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s not what you think it is,” I assure her, because I know exactly why she’s reticent. I bet she thinks it’s a new wedding band or perhaps a large diamond I hadn’t had the chance to get her but had fully intended to, even though we did everything ass-backward.
I extend my arm enough that I push the gift right into her hands, and she has no choice but to accept it.
She holds the box carefully, almost as if she’s afraid it’s a bomb that might explode. When she lifts her face back up, she says, “I didn’t get you anything.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I assure her. “I’m not sure I deserve anything anyway.”
A flash of empathy fills her eyes before she quickly extinguishes it.
I nod down at the box. “Open it or don’t. It’s yours to do with as you wish. Just promise me you’ll keep it if you can’t look at it now because maybe one day you’ll be in a different place. At least I hope to God that’s what’s going to happen.”
Jaime’s gaze goes down to the box, then once again comes up to meet mine. She merely nods her agreement that she’ll keep it.
Pointing with her thumb over her shoulder, she says, “I need to get going.”
“Of course,” I reply. Before she can think to step away or stop me, I lean down and brush my lips across her cheek. “I love you, Jaime. Merry Christmas.”
I don’t expect her to say anything back, so I immediately turn on my heel and start walking across the grounds to the road where I’d parallel parked my car. All I can hope for tonight is that I’ve given her a bit of pause, and she’ll think about giving me another shot.
CHAPTER 27
Jaime
Gently, I use my feather duster to swipe all the decorations and books on my living room shelves. I run it over the corner lamp, the end tables, and the coffee table. I start to move toward the TV stand, but the red foil-wrapped gift catches my eye. I’d set it there when I