“How do you suppose I win her back, Kill? I can’t quite maneuver around the place very well.”
“You have a mobile, right? Have some of her favorite things delivered. Slowly, when you’re feeling strong, work around the house, get some things done. Help out where you can. And then, thank her. Thank her for everything. Show her how much you appreciate her, find some solid ground, and grow off that. I have confidence you can do it.”
“I don’t know. I told her to leave, to be done with me.”
“Well, she should know by now that we men are idiots and don’t know what we want. Tell me this—are you miserable without her?”
“Fucking miserable.”
“Then don’t be a wanker. Go after her.”
“Yeah . . . but going after her is being selfish. She wants out. I should just let her go.”
“From the conversations I’ve had with her and with you, I know that’s not the truth but a gut reaction to protect her heart. She loves you. Don’t let her throw away what she feels for you because Pa had a vendetta. If you owe her anything, you owe her that.”
“Fuck,” I groan. “You’re right.”
“I know I’m right. Always am.”
“Let me guess, you won’t let me live this one down.”
“Not so much. If you need any wooing ideas, I might have some up my sleeve.”
“Over my dead body will I let my older, inexperienced brother try to help me woo the woman I love.”
Killian laughs. “You’re probably correct about that.”
I stare at the clock, it’s past ten, closing in on eleven, and now I’m starting to worry.
I think I pushed her too far.
Granted, that was the goal, to get her out of here and stop caring for me. Well, mission accomplished.
Now I want her back.
After I got off the phone, I spent two hours hobbling around the house, cleaning up, clumsily doing the dishes, and making sure what I could reach was in place. I ordered some flowers and those shortbread cookies she likes from a bakery downtown. I attempted to make her bed for her, but that didn’t go well. I ended up flopping around on it several times like a goddamn fish out of water. Eventually, I rolled off and left the bed as is. I had to. It smelled of Cora, and that nearly broke my heart. Her scent should only be in my bed.
Once I felt like I did a good enough job to impress her, I set the flowers on the table and the cookies beside them. Then passed out on the couch because, Jesus fuck, getting around on one leg with one arm is exhausting.
But she’s still not back yet.
I consider texting her, but that seems desperate.
And I don’t want her thinking that I’m texting her to find out where she is because I need something. That ship has sailed. I’ve thought back to what Cora said about me to Arlo a few weeks ago. How happy I made her. How I helped her self-worth. How she hated the idea of failing at a second marriage. I’d much rather stay with a man who spends moments every day trying to build my self-confidence and helping me explore what other strengths I might have, than feel as though I’ve simply failed again.
I love Cora Greyson, and I want her to have my name. My utmost support. My love. She is not a failure and should never feel that way.
We’re pivoting to a new mission, and that’s to win her back.
Kind of hard to win her back if she’s not here, though.
I sigh into the couch just as I hear a jingle against the door.
My ears perk up and I sit a little taller as I hold my breath. When the door unlocks and opens, my stomach erupts with nerves. I left the entryway light on, so when she comes in, I’m relieved to see her.
I lean forward, brace myself with the coffee table, and then slowly lift up just in time for her to come into the room. She initially looks at me and then her eyes fall to the flowers.
“Hey,” I say softly as I pick up my crutch.
“What are these?” she asks, pointing to the cookies.
“Those are the shortbread cookies you love.” I make my way toward her. “I had some delivered.”
“Why would you do that?”
When I reach her, I’m tempted to reach out and take her hand in mine, but I refrain. “As a peace offering,” I answer.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “And what sort of peace are you offering?”
Her chin is held high and there’s a note of defiance in her voice. Just reminds me how much I love this woman. Stubborn but loving, wrapped up into a feisty ball of beauty.
I take another step forward and say, “I’m saying thank you.”