She hurt for the life he must’ve led. She knew “people with power” didn’t mean what most would think of as the powerful and influential, like politicians and wealthy people. He was talking about his parents—the people who had inflicted pain on him with their carelessness or out of pure blindness to what he needed.
“When you popped back into my life,” he continued, “I couldn’t help but assign the worst possible scenario because that was easier than believing that maybe I was getting another chance. Then I got to know you and I realized you were nothing like I imagined.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“When you beat me at the rink.” A smile ghosted over his lips. “I saw how good you were, how effortlessly you moved across the ice. Skill like that doesn’t come without a great deal of sacrifice and years of hard work. So I knew you weren’t the kind of woman looking for an easy, pampered existence.” He poured himself more wine. “Once I accepted that, I started to open my heart to you without realizing it myself at first. You started to fill the emptiness in my life little by little, and we fit so naturally that it was too late by the time I learned about my role in destroying your dream. Honestly, I wanted to push you away. I didn’t deserve the happiness you gave me, but imagining you with anybody else, especially my father, just…made me sick.”
“Dane, Salazar and I—”
“He was going to marry you. He told me so when I confronted him about covering up the accident.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“He’s old and will die at some point in the not-too-distant future, which would leave you a rich widow. Then you could do whatever you wanted with the rest of your life. You would also have become a Pryce, which would’ve conferred quite a bit of influence.”
“Dane…” She fought for words. She had no idea Salazar had planned to go to such an extreme. Not doing anything by half-measures must be hereditary in their family.
“I couldn’t let him do it,” Dane continued. “Even if I didn’t deserve it, I wanted to be the one to make you happy.”
Her stomach fluttered, a thousand tiny birds trapped within.
“I love you, Sophia. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, and you’re the only woman I will ever love.”
Tears blurred her vision. Unable to stop herself, she sniffed and got up.
Dane jumped to his feet. “I’m not finished,” he said, desperation and the fight for control sharpening his voice. “I want to marry you. I want to spend my life with you. I understand if you can’t forgive me right now, but I want a chance to earn your forgiveness.”
Shaking her head, she buried her face in her hands. “I can’t. It’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.” His voice shook with tension. “There’s always a way.”
“I’m not talking about forgiving you for the accident. I’d already done that, even before I knew that the driver was you. I had to, in order to be able to move on. My only disappointment had been—” She stopped. If she let him know she loved him back, he might shrug off what she had to say. “There’s a fifty percent chance I may have Huntington’s disease. George dropped that bombshell at the hospital before you found us.” She wiped the tears away. Mascara streaked her palms.
“I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s not a guarantee. We can find a specialist. We treat cancer these days, surely we can—”
“It’s incurable and untreatable. I don’t even know when it’s going to show. It may hit me when I’m fifty. Or maybe I’ll succumb to it when I’m thirty. You need…” She squeezed her eyes against the pain. “You need to find someone who loves you back and not burden you the way I might.”
His warm hands cradled her face, his forehead against hers. “I don’t care how many healthy days you have left. If we only have twenty-four hours left to share, then we’ll simply have to cram a lifetime of love into one day. I’m not letting anything get in the way of loving you.”
“How am I going to do the right thing if you say things like that?” A sob wracked her body. “I saw how you looked at Vanessa’s baby. If I have the disease, I may never be able to give you children.”
“If all I cared about was children, any of the women I’ve dated would have been acceptable. My love isn’t contingent upon you giving me children. It is you, only you that I want. If we can have them, great. If not, I have four siblings who are sure to have nephews and nieces for us to spoil.” His thumb brushed away tears at the edge of her eye. “I love you, Sophia. Will you give us a chance?”