Cape Cod Promises (Love on Rockwell Island 2)

Which was why she suddenly knew she needed to be completely honest, and finally admit the truth to him about why she’d fallen apart in New York. “Ten years ago, New York City terrified me. Right from the start, I was all but paralyzed by the noise and the chaos and the traffic.”

“Sweetheart.” He brushed a lock of hair back from her face, his touch as tender and loving as it had ever been. “Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?”

“You were so busy at work, and you were so supportive of my painting. I didn’t want you to know how weak I was. Didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle our new life.” She nibbled on her lower lip, feeling terribly vulnerable again.

“You were nineteen, and you’d lived on the island your whole life, where practically everyone knows one another. Being overwhelmed doesn’t make you weak. Hell, I was overwhelmed by New York and all the pressure that came along with the competitive law firms.”

“You were?” She wondered if he was saying that to lessen her own insecurities. “You never told me.”

“What kind of a husband would I have been if I’d laid my worries on you? At least that’s what I thought back then, when I was young and stupid. So damn stupid not to have seen what you were going through, too.”

“If I hadn’t hidden my true feelings from you...” She inhaled a shaky breath, wondering if they would have been able to save their marriage if they had been honest and open with each other back then.

“You’re not hiding them now,” he said. “And neither am I. I’d say that’s a good first step for a future together, wouldn’t you?”

“It is,” she agreed, but she knew they weren’t quite done revisiting the past yet. “The day before I left New York, I got sick of feeling so overwhelmed, not just by the city, but by the thought of talking with gallery owners, too. So I bit the bullet and went to an important gallery I’d just read about, intent on seeking out the owner.”

“You obviously made a great impression on him or her.”

“I wish I could say that I did. But it was all accidental. When I got there, there were so many ritzy, important-looking people, that I chickened out. I didn’t talk to anyone, barely had the guts to leave my card at the front desk. By the time I ran out of there, I knew I didn’t belong in New York. I got lucky that the receptionist was trying to make a name for herself in the art world and liked the painting I put on my card enough to reach out.”

“You keep telling me how scared you were, but you made it happen anyway, Reese. And I’m proud of you. So damn proud.”

His continued—and boundless—faith in her touched her so deeply that her next words spilled from her lips, coming straight from her heart. “I’m sorry I left the very next day. I’m sorry I left you with nothing but that note when I should have been brave enough to say goodbye face-to-face. It must have been horrible to come home and find my letter.”

Trent pulled her in closer and slid his hand to the nape of her neck before saying, “Do you know that feeling when you’re watching a horror movie and your skin feels like it’s on fire, and you’re holding your breath, waiting for the ax to fall?”

She nodded.

“I felt like the person that ax falls onto.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so tremendously sorry. All these years, I had somehow convinced myself that you came home and found the note, then sort of shrugged it off and buried yourself in more work.”

“Shrugged it off? Did I make you feel like you meant that little to me?” Hearing that made him feel like his heart was being hollowed out.

“I don’t know that I thought that, but I always wondered what you felt when you found the note. Thank you for being so honest with me.”

“I will always be honest with you. Even if the truth is hard for both of us to hear. Which is why I need to know, what did it feel like to write the note?”

“It felt like I was holding the ax and I was beneath it at the same time. I remember shaking like a leaf. I think I wrote it five times before finally deciding I was really leaving.”

He tugged her in close again. “I’m sorry I put you—us—in that situation, Reese. I adore you, and I’ll never do it again.”

“And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t figure out how to make our marriage work,” she said softly.

He didn’t argue with her, but simply said, “I forgive you, Reese.” He took her hand in his before asking, “Do you think you can forgive me?”