“Why? I’m not afraid of the storm. It can’t touch me.” I angled toward him, lifting my hand to capture his. “You’ve always been my shelter from the storm. You’ve been my stronghold keeping me safe from the rest of the world even when I didn’t know it was you. Your walls might have been invisible, but they were invincible.”
Matt swallowed, hobbling one last step closer. “Maggie.”
I nodded. “Maggie.”
When his arm lifted so he could slide my wet hair over my shoulder, he winced but didn’t stop. “What did she tell you?”
My arm looped around his waist gently as I stared up at him. Bloody. Broken. Bruised. He was so damn beautiful it hurt. “Everything.”
Matt didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his fingers combing through my hair, seeming to melt into the bend of my arm around him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
The skin between his brows creased. “Because it didn’t matter who saved you that night, just that you were okay. I didn’t care who you thought was making you happy, just that you were.”
I didn’t know I’d been hollow until his words filled every empty space and dark corner inside me.
His hand molded behind my neck, his thumb brushing along my hairline and tracing the bandage covering my cut. “How can you forgive me? How can you ever trust me again after what I did?”
It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. All I could think about was all of the ways he’d earned my trust, everything he’d done for me, selflessly and endlessly.
“You made a split-second decision at the wedding, Matt. I can’t blame you for that. You were trying to do the right thing.”
His head shook, sending rain falling like diamonds from the ends of his hair. “Not the wedding day.”
My other hand lifted to his face. “You were drinking. We both were. We’ve been over this.”
“I might have had a few drinks, but when I leaned in, when I put my hands on you and drew you to me, that wasn’t the alcohol. That was me. All me.” His forehead creased. “You trusted me, and I betrayed that trust.”
When I blinked at him, rain spilled from my lashes. “I knew it was you.” I had to say it again. Louder. “I knew it was you, Matt.” I paused to make sure he’d heard me. To make sure he understood what I was saying. “I might have been afraid to admit it to myself, but I knew. Deep inside, I knew it.”
He watched me for a minute, searching my face for any signs of doubt. He wouldn’t find any. His arm slid behind my neck as he pulled me to him and stiffly wound his other arm behind my back. He turned us slightly so the rain was pelting his back instead of mine. We stood like that for a while, our toes in the wet sand, our bodies pressed together, our arms clinging to each other.
“I need to tell you something.” My head lifted from his chest so I could look up at him. “Something I’ve been waiting to say for twenty years.”
He shook his head, a smile starting to form. “Me first.”
Not a chance.
“I love you,” I blurted, so loud and fast it surprised him.
That look of surprise was chased away by something else. Another emotion that made my heart stop. “Again,” he whispered.
I lifted onto my toes so I was closer to his eye level. “I love you.” I pressed my lips to his.
His eyes were still closed from our kiss, his hands drawing me closer. “Again.”
I leaned in, dropping my mouth outside of his ear. “I love you.”
His chest moved against mine, our breaths coming into sync. “Don’t stop saying that. Ever.”
My eyebrow lifted when he opened his eyes. “That might present a challenge.”
“One I’m sure you’ll find a way to overcome.” He winked, his fingers brushing across the seam of my lips. “Those words, coming from your mouth, when your eyes are on mine, that’s the reason. Right there, those three words, that’s the answer.”
My head tipped as I gently touched his swollen lip. “The answer to what?”
He stared at me like it should have been obvious. “My question for existence. My reason for living. My explanation for twenty years of waiting.”
“Oh yeah. That little reason.”
He prodded at my sides, making me laugh. When I squirmed against him, he just picked me up, tying my legs behind him.
“You’re broken. Everywhere,” I added when he grimaced after adjusting his footing. “You need a doctor—one other than yourself—and a good night of sleep before you start tossing me around.”
“First things first.”