“Please, that’s not what I meant to say. I had it all planned out, but my stomach is in knots and—” I break off, lifting my hands in the air, fingers spread wide in supplication. “What I meant was that I was way too messed up back then to be ready to promise the rest of my life to another person. After all the stuff with my mom and my uncle… I just… I wouldn’t have been able to be a good husband to you, no matter how hard I would have tried.”
I pause, encouraged by the slight softening around Lark’s eyes.
“My baggage weighed more than I did,” I continue. “I got home that night, the night you said yes, and everything went to shit. Parker and I had the blow up to end all blow ups and…” I take a breath, fighting for the courage to be honest with her. “I looked at myself in the mirror after, with my swollen lip and black eye and the peeling wallpaper in my trashed bathroom and thought… What the hell was I doing? With a girl like you? When I clearly didn’t deserve you.”
“That’s not true,” Lark whispers. “You were always so good to me. Before.”
“I tried to be,” I say, pulse racing as I take a tentative step closer. “I loved you so much.”
“And I loved you,” she says, taking a matching step backward. “And then you left. Without even saying goodbye. Without saying anything. Do you know how hard that was? I kept waiting for you to at least call and explain, but you never did.”
“I’m so sorry, Lark.” My chest aches. “By the time I got my head on straight it had been months and I was buried in work and I… Well, I convinced myself you wouldn’t want to hear from me. That it was best to leave you alone.”
“And now?” she whispers. “What’s changed?”
“I…” I trail off, swallowing hard. I’m only going to get one shot at this, one chance to prove to her I might be worthy of a second chance. I have to get every word right. Tongue slipping out to 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.”