dampen my lips and my fingers curling and uncurling anxiously at my sides, I say, “I’ve done a lot of work on myself. I’ve fixed so many of the things that were broken inside of me, but there’s one thing I can’t fix, no matter how much time I spend on my therapists’ couch.”
Lark arches a brow, clearly unimpressed.
Harder, asshole. Try harder. Or get ready to spend the rest of your life missing this woman as much as you have the past four years.
“There’s never been anyone for me, but you,” I say. “I’ve never felt anything for anyone else that even comes close to what we had, what I threw away when I was a stupid kid who didn’t think he deserved to be loved like that.” My breath rushes out. “And maybe I didn’t, and maybe I still don’t. But I promise, if you can find it in your heart to give me another shot I’ll make damned sure you don’t regret it.”
Lark blinks, sending twin streams of water rolling down her flushed cheeks, but she doesn’t say a word.
Not a word, for a moment so long and strained my throat begins to ache.
“I swear,” I whisper. “Whatever it takes. Whatever you need. I took a job at a practice in Atlanta, so I’ll be close enough to be here every night, sitting on your front step with flowers and an ‘I’m an Idiot’ sign to show the entire town how sorry I am, if that’s what it takes.”
Lark shakes her head, and the bottom drops out of my stomach.
“Is there someone else?” I ask after a moment, my voice tight.
“No.” Lark swipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’ve dated a few people, but nothing serious.”
“Maybe that’s a sign?” I risk.
“A sign of what?” Lark huffs out a humorless laugh. “That I’m too scared to trust anyone else that way again? After the man I thought was one of the sweetest people in the world dumped me so hard my tailbone still feels bruised?”
I wince. “I’m sorry, Lark. You don’t know how sorry, I swear—”
“No, I do know.” Lark rolls her shoulders back, staring me straight in the eyes. “You’ve been gone four years, Mason. Four years without so much as an email or a text message. If you’d said these things a few weeks after you left, or even a few months after, things might have been different.” She sniffs and swipes at her cheeks again. “You don’t know how many times I dreamed of you saying everything you just said to me back then.”
She presses her lips together. “But that was then,” she continues in a softer voice. “Now, too much time has passed. I’m not that girl you remember anymore.”
I nod, but I’m not giving up. Not yet, not until I’ve left it all on the field. “And I’m not the boy you remember, either. I’m a man with his head on straight and his heart in the right place who would love to get to know the woman you are now. And to prove to you he knows how to treat people he cares about.”
Lark lifts one bare shoulder, one bare, beautiful shoulder I will never press my lips to again if I can’t convince her to change her mind and shakes her head. “It’s too painful, Mason. I can’t do this with you. I don’t want to, and even if I did, I’m too busy. I have my family and a new niece and a business to run. This coming week will be the first time I’ve taken a vacation in over a year, and I can’t imagine—”
“You’re leaving town?” I ask. That would be just my luck, booking a weeklong stay at a motel in Bliss River the one week Lark won’t be here.
She shakes her head. “No, I’m stay-cationing at home. I’m exhausted, and tonight has only made me more exhausted. I just want to go home and sleep for twelve hours and forget this conversation ever happened.”
“That’s a great idea,” I agree, her words lighting a spark of inspiration. Maybe a second chance isn’t the right way to think about this. Maybe we need a completely fresh start. “Why don’t you go rest, have a relaxing day at home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six.”
Lark blinks. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s forget this conversation ever happened,” I say, praying she’ll go along with my spur-of-the-moment plan. “Let’s forget everything that’s ever happened between us.