Page 103 of The Holiday Makeover

“I guess I’m getting a little ahead of myself.” He nudged me gently.

“Just a little.”

“Rory, I know things are messy right now,” he admitted. “But all I’m asking for is the chance to clean up the mess I made.”

“I don’t know if you can take full credit for the mess,” I said. “I mean, maybe seventy-five percent,” I teased.

His mouth tugged up, but only barely.

“But seriously, Tate, I’m scared. And I’m hurt.” My voice chattered in the cold air. “And I know I hurt you too.”

He slowed beside me, his hand still holding mine.

“It’s just that we could have been married by now,” I whispered. “We could have had a baby. Lily and I could have been pregnant at the same time.”

A sad little laugh slipped out of me.

“She’s pretty salty she missed out on swollen ankles together.”

“I don’t know much about swollen ankles,” he said quietly. “But I do know what I missed out on. Why do you think I kept the ring?”

My heart stumbled.

“Did Coco know about it?” I asked. “The ring?”

Tate’s gaze held mine. “She knew.”

Those words, while said softly, hit hard.

Coco had known he wanted to marry me.

And she had brought him back to me.

“Did she ever say anything to you after you left?” I asked. “After you didn’t ask me?”

“I got an earful.” His mouth lifted, but there was no humor in it. “She told me it was the biggest mistake I’d ever made and that I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I agreed with her.” His gaze dropped to the snow-covered sidewalk. “But I didn’t do anything about it.”

Those words seemed to haunt both of us.

“And she never contacted me again,” he mumbled. “I think that hurt almost as much as losing you—disappointing her.”

“She must not have been too disappointed. I don’t think she would have asked you to come back if she didn’t believe in you.” I swallowed. “In us.”

Tate stopped walking and turned to me.

“Do you believe in me?” he asked. “In us?”

I bit my lip and tried to decide what to say. My thoughts and my heart felt so jumbled up that it took me a moment to find the only honest answer I had.

“I want to.”

Tate’s smile was small, but real. “I can work with that.”

The rest of our walk to the park was a silent affair. Our clasped hands swung between us as we held on tightly to each other, both of us afraid to let go.