Winn smiled—broken, tired, haunting. Eventually, he reached for her, unable to keep the distance any longer. His fingers brushed her face. Warm. Gentle. Reverent. His thumb traced her cheekbone.
"You worry about me even when you are mad," he said. "I want you to know this, Ivy. Whatever happened, its not your fault. My family made me the man you cannot stand."
"You do not have to be that man, Winn."
"And yet, I am. I will be." he answered. His shoulders slumped, the fight leaking out of him. "I am sorry you were hurt so badly. I am sorry that I couldn't protect you. I am sorry that I doubted you for even one second. And I am sorry, that you had to carry the grief of our child without me."
Ivy's lips parted, breath trembling, her gaze flickering away.
"I know that things may not go back to the way it was with us," she whispered, "but I still want to make your burden easier." Her eyes glistened.
