One corner of his mouth lifted, not quite a smile. “I noticed.”
“What are you doing here?” The question came out as a whisper. “Wes, there are eyeballs everywhere ... and a camera.”
“I know.” His gaze flicked past me for a heartbeat, to the crew, the inn, the wide, watching world. When his eyes returned to mine, they were steady. “I’ll survive.”
I huffed out something like a disbelieving laugh. “That’s your bar now?”
“No,” he said. His throat worked, and when he went on, his voice was rough as his hand found my arm. “My bar is you.”
The photographer’s shutter kept clicking—soft, constant—but the rest of the farm fell away. It was just him and me and the huge, beautiful oak tree.
“I started therapy,” he said. The words tumbled out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d choke him. “For my head, not my leg. I should’ve done it a long time ago. Hayes has been trying to shove me in that direction for months. It took you walking out with a bag for me to finally listen.”
My lungs forgot how to work.
“You—you’re seeing someone?” I asked.
He nodded. “Some guy in Outtatowner. Twice a week, for now. I sit in a chair and say horrible, true things instead of letting them eat me alive in the dark.”
One of my hands had curled in the front of his jacket without me realizing it. I could feel his heart pounding under my palm.
“Wes . . .”
“I also joined a group for amputees. For now I’m still sitting in the back and watching, but ... I’m going. I needed you to know,” he said, talking over his name like the words were a dam he’d finally blown open. “That when you said you loved yourself enough to leave, I heard you. I didn’t like it. I hated every second of it. I still do. But you were right. I’ve been choosing fear over both of us. I forgot what it was like to choose myself, and then I blamed every fear I had on the leg like it was doing all the work.”
His voice dropped. “It wasn’t. It was me.” His blue eyes lifted to meet mine. “I’m doing the work for myself as much as I am for you. It’s important that you know that.”
Wind tugged at a piece of my hair, and I shivered, more from his words than any cold. He reached up and smoothed it back automatically, fingers shaking just a little.
“I don’t want to be that man,” he said. “I don’t want to be the guy who makes you do all the emotional heavy lifting while I hide behind worst-case scenarios. I love you, Clara.”
His words hit harder than the cold, harder than the humiliation of the chapel, harder than the slam of my own front door when I’d walked out of his house. A tear slipped free.
“This isn’t me being noble,” he added, eyes earnest. “This isn’t ‘go live your best life and I’ll brood from a distance.’ I’m telling you I’m in love with you. Fully, stupidly terrified and in love with you. I want you in my mornings and my bad days and my building sites and whatever comes after that awful green carpet.”
A startled laugh caught in my chest. “You know about the storefront?”
His eyes warmed. “You told Kit. Kit told everyone she ran into. This town loves a story, Duchess.”
“That’s . . . horrifying.”
“Good for me, though.” His mouth tipped into a quick, crooked smile. “Otherwise I wouldn’t know you’re thinking about a studio. That you might sell a ring you never really wanted to get one that fits the life you actually do.”
My throat tightened. “I’m excited for what comes next.”
“I know.” His hand slipped down, catching mine. His fingers were warm around my cold ones. “That’s yours to choose. Where you put it. What you call it. How big your windows are. I just?—”
He stopped and took a breath, like he needed to steady the words.
“I just want a chance to stand next to you in it,” he said. “Not as something you have to prop up, but as a partner. As the guy who bids your build-out at full price like any other client and then sneaks in on weekends to fix the trim because he can’t keep his hands off your space.”
My eyes burned for a whole new reason.
“Wes . . .”
“You said once,” he went on, softer now, “that you’d marry the right person with a gum wrapper before you ever put on another ring that felt like someone else’s life.”
I froze.