He anticipated the next impending comment before the words even left his aunt’s mouth.
“You met her in Italy. You took her to Vegas for the wedding—something I’ve not forgiven you for, by the way—and then you honeymooned in Coronado and San Diego. Already I see a pattern of flitting about. And so you bring her to San Francisco and expect her to settle down with you? What does Jenna know about settling down?”
“What, exactly, did she think? We were married, for Christ’s sake!”
A blonde brow lifted.
“Sorry,” Rafe muttered.
On a sigh, Vesta said, “She is not the only one to blame. You should never have married her so quickly. Or outside of our church, without Father Michael to bless the rings and your family to celebrate with you. You of all people—a traditionalist. But you let your attraction to her guide you down the wrong path.”
“It’s more than attraction,” he said in a dour tone. “I love her. I always will.”
“Hmm, yes. And she will always love you, tesoro mio. The reason she is here.”
Vesta stood. Rafe raised his hands in surrender. “How do I keep her here?”
With a shake of her neatly coiffed head, his aunt said, “You can’t keep her here. She has to decide to stay. Even if it’s not fulltime because she has her job. She has to choose to want to be with you and to be a part of this family. And she will. If she doesn’t feel caged in. You can’t do everything for her, Rafe. She is an independent girl who has always taken care of herself. Don’t stifle her. Watch and listen, and perhaps you’ll discover what she truly needs.”
Vesta stepped forward and Rafe bent down again so she could kiss him. Then she held his face and added, “You know the saying. Set her free.”
“I did. I’m the one who initiated the divorce, remember?”
“But you still expect her to be someone she’s not.”
Rafe straightened. “She did come back to me.”
Vesta’s head tilted to the side as she regarded him with a challenging look. “Three years later. You can do better than that, tesoro mio.”
Rafe snorted. “Way to rub it in.”
“You know I love you. I raised you after your parents died and have always thought of you as a son. I want you to be happy. That woman in your dining room is the one for you. The only one. But she has needs you know nothing about, Rafael. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped insisting your relationship has to be a certain way, and let her show you how it could work from her perspective?”
His brow furrowed.
So…what? He was a horse’s ass for wanting to be her everything?
Yes.
How could he be her everything when he had no idea what “everything” meant to Jenna?
It certainly wasn’t the conventional things most women wanted—a car, a house, a husband who mowed the lawn and took out the trash. One who brought home a puppy and proposed having children and discussed 401(k) plans for their retirement years.
His eyes rolled. Hell, they’d never made it past talking about preferred furniture. They’d stuck with his. What would have been the point of replacing it all, anyway? Jenna was always headed toward the door. The airport. Another job. What the hell did it matter what their sofa looked like?
Rafe grimaced. “I see your point, Aunt Vesta. I did hold on too tightly. I did insist there was only one way for us to be married—my way.”
“And now you know that there are two hearts and two wills involved. She’s as stubborn as you are, but that doesn’t indicate you can’t learn to compromise. Think of how much you’ve missed her, Rafe. And tell me you wouldn’t do anything to be with her again.”
“Anything.”
His aunt smiled. “It won’t be easy. You’ll keep pushing her. She’ll keep looking for an escape. You have to strike a balance.”
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest and groaned. “I don’t do balance well. Not when it comes to Jen.”
From the beginning, he’d wanted all or nothing. At least…that’s what he’d thought. Now that he knew what nothing entailed, he had to admit that something was better than that.
Jesus, how fucked up is this?