Now here he was. He looked terrible, with ringed eyes, a stubbled chin and wrinkled clothes. If she had any question about whether their brief separation had been as hard on him as it had been on her, here was the proof, in his haunted expression.
Her hand flew to her heart, which had stopped.
His hands, which were down by his sides, rose a little, in a supplicating gesture, as though his words weren’t working any better than hers were at the moment.
Please.
Shame hit her hard, because of course everything he’d said to her was right. About her hypocrisy? About her cowardice? True. All, sadly, true.
She’d been so afraid he’d reject her that she hadn’t given him a chance, and she was ashamed of herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
His breath hitched. “You should be. Come here.”
They came together, hard, and Talia held on to Tony, her anchor, for all she was worth. How on earth had she thought she could make it through this without his quiet strength backing her up?
Gloria slipped away, although Talia could hear her discreet sniffles.
She pulled back so she could see Tony’s face. “I love you. I should have told you before.”
He nodded, ducking his head as he swiped his eyes. “Yeah. You should’ve.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“So am I.”
Some of the weight in her chest lifted. Thank God he gave her naked honesty and not some rah-rah speech about how they’d kick cancer’s ass. She couldn’t take that right now. He was right, of course. Some burdens needed to be shared.
“I have a quote,” she told him. “From Dr. King.”
Those dimples appeared in his cheeks. “Oh, yeah? I could use a quote right about now. Hit me.”
“He said, ‘We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear.’”
Tony nodded. “‘Dikes of courage.’ That works for me. I’ve got a big shovel and a strong back.”
“God, I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby,” he said, kissing her temple a last time.
“Well.” She worked up a smile that felt reasonably courageous. “Should we go? I don’t want to be late.”
“Not just yet.”
He reached inside his jeans pocket and produced something small.
Then he reached for her left hand.
She sighed, feeling that sweet ache around her heart again.
Without breaking stride, Tony raised her hand to his lips and pressed it with a lingering kiss.
Talia gave him a sidelong glance. This, naturally, made him grin with happiness that was both crazy and peaceful.
He had gray at his temples now, and interesting lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth when he smiled. He was, in other words, handsomer and more intriguing than he’d been the day they met, and she loved him more every day. If someone had told her that this would be possible back when they’d gotten married, she’d have convulsed with laughter, but it was true.
“Congratulations, baby,” he told her, smoothing a strand of her windswept curls, which had grown back longer and more luxuriant than ever, out of her face.