Tucker’s hands clenched into fists but she saw no gut level shock. Neither did she see the pity she’d expected. This wasn’t news to him. He’d suspected, but he’d never pried, never asked, and he could have.
“Is this supposed to be some kind of badge of honor?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s evidence I knew exactly what I was getting into when I ran into that kitchen, and I knew exactly what would happen if I didn’t. I had to get her out, Tucker. Because it’s my fault she was with him in the first place.”
His head kicked back in surprise. “How the hell do you figure that?”
“Abuse is a self-perpetuating cycle. My parents were never violent, but they spent a helluva lot of time and effort tearing me down. They verbally abused me from the time I was Kurt’s age. Made me feel like I was never good enough, never pretty enough, never doing enough. And since I couldn’t lash out at them, I lashed out at someone weaker.”
“Whitney? What does that have to do with us?”
She’d have to spell it out. And then he’d know, without a doubt, who she really was. This conversation would be over in a hurry after that, and then they’d be through for good. The knowledge of that made the bad hospital coffee and vending machine crackers that had been dinner want to come back up in revolt.
“I’m the one who started the cycle for her. I’m the one who tore her down, made her feel like less. I knew her better than anyone, so I knew exactly how to do it for the most damage. When we hit high school, I used that knowledge to get in with the popular crowd. I hurt and embarrassed her, and then over the next four years I kept doing it. I broke her, Tucker. I’m the one who primed her for that asshole to come along and prey on her poor self esteem. I’m the one who set her up for that. And when I realized it, I just couldn’t—be with you. Because I didn’t deserve something so good, so wonderful when I’d done that. I didn’t deserve you.” She wasn’t sure she deserved him now, but it wasn’t because of Whitney.
“So this is all about some misguided sense of guilt?”
Why wasn’t he looking appalled? “Haven’t you been listening to me?”
“Yeah. I’m hearing you had a shitty family and an even shittier marriage. And you did some shitty things to someone who used to be a friend, and somehow you think that places the blame for her asshole’s fists on you. I call bullshit.” He shoved away from the counter. “Corinne, life isn’t a balance sheet. What we had didn’t have anything to do with Whitney.”
What we had. Past tense.
She didn’t flinch at that blow either, though it hurt worse than all the rest combined. You brought this on yourself. You walked away. You screwed this up. This was the only possible outcome here because you didn’t listen to the voice that mattered.
“You’re right,” she said.
“Come again?”
“You’re right. You’ve been right since you slipped all those notes in my locker in high school. I didn’t deserve what was done to me. I didn’t deserve what was said. You always tried to build me up, to remind me of that. Then and now. But your voice has been drowned out by so, so many others over years. I thought if I could get Whitney out, get her away from Garrett, I’d somehow redeem myself. That it would make up for the past and make me feel like the kind of person who could be worthy of the way you looked at me.”
“And now?”
Now she just felt soul weary and sad. But she’d finish this and say what she came here to say. “Now I realize that in your eyes I was always worthy. It’s not your good opinion I needed to earn. It was mine. Because nothing you could say or do would ever make up for what I believe of myself.”
“What do you believe, Corinne?”
“I’d rather tell you what I know.”
“Okay.”
Because her knees weren’t quite steady, now she was the one leaning back against the counter. “I know I made mistakes in the past. I know I’ve bent over backward trying to make up for them, to be a better example for Kurt. I know I did the right thing going after Whitney today. Maybe we won’t ever be friends again, but it went a long way toward healing the hurt between us. Either way, I’ll sleep easier knowing she’s away from him. I know I’m strong. Strong enough to break the cycle of abuse for my son, so he’ll never grow up feeling the way I did. And—” She swallowed, thinking that if this was the last chance she got to speak to him like this, she’d at least leave him with the truth. “—I know I’m in love with you and walking away from you was the dumbest thing in a long line of dumb things I’ve done in my life.”
Tucker stared at her, face inscrutable. She’d put herself out there, admitted she loved him, and he just stood there. Abruptly angry, Corinne thought of the one useful thing she’d ever learned from her mother. No one’s going to hand you anything. If you want something, you have to go after it yourself.
She wanted Tucker McGee.
Shoving away from the counter, Corinne crossed to him, wishing he’d say or do something—anything to indicate how he was feeling.
“I hurt you. I’m so sorry for that. But I’m asking you for a second chance because I deserve it. We deserve it.” She hadn’t thought so when she came over here. But she believed it now, and she wanted with every fiber of her being for him to believe it too. Reaching out, she framed his face in her hands. His stubble rasped her palms. “Please give me another chance.”
Eyes never leaving hers, Tucker’s hands curled around hers, pulling them away from his face and her heart all but stopped.
It was truly over.
Chapter 18
No one had ever accused Tucker of being a man of few words. But despite all his theater training, all his hours in front of judge and jury sometimes pulling arguments out of his ass, right this moment he couldn’t think of the right words to express how proud he was of her. She’d finally figured out what he’d known from day one—that she was worth it.