In the few days since she’d seen him, she’d forgotten how devastatingly handsome he was. Still clean-shaven, he wore scrubs, the same as the day they first met. Awareness pricked over her skin. Her breath catching.
“That was a beautiful thing to do.” Levering his shoulder off the tree, he stalked toward her. “You made that little girl’s day.”
Abigail’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, no matter that she’d wanted to see him. Hoped to see him. Played in her mind a thousand times what his reaction might be to her gift.
She hadn’t anticipated how much she’d pinned her hopes on this man even though he’d walked away from her. She told herself to wait and see what he said. To listen with an open heart.
To be a better person than she’d been the last time they spoke. If nothing else, she would have the chance to apologize.
“She made mine, too.” Her voice sounded funny in her own ears.
Vaughn halted a few steps from her. Close enough that she could reach out and touch him. Her pulse quickened, the way it always seemed to when he was near her.
“As much as she liked the statue you made her, I am willing to bet I liked the one you made for me even more.” His gaze was steady. Sincere. “Thank you for that, Abigail.”
Pleased he enjoyed the gift, she couldn’t deny that she’d hoped for...more than that. A part of her had envisioned it as a peace offering. A way to heal things between them. She glanced around the lounge, wishing they could speak someplace privately. Then again, maybe it was better this way. She couldn’t fall apart with an audience nearby.
“I’m sorry for the way I—” She had to clear her throat. “I shouldn’t have come down on you so hard that day. I was hurting, and I took it out on you.”
Vaughn pointed toward the chairs in the far corner of the lounge. “Would you sit with me for a minute? If you have time?”
Nodding, she walked beside him on wobbly legs.
She sat in one of the high-backed leather seats while Vaughn took the one opposite her.
“Abby, every single thing you said to me that day was true.” His hands fisted where they sat on his knees, as if fighting an impulse. “I have been going through the motions of an existence that hardly counts as living. Going to work. Fighting off bad dreams. Rinse and repeat.”
“You can’t help that.” She had read more about PTSD since their split, educating herself specifically about the problems veterans suffered. She wished she’d taken time to research more thoroughly sooner in their relationship. “That’s why I shouldn’t have pushed—”
“You had every right to push. Because I told you I wanted to be there with you.” He unclenched his hands now and reached for hers. Held them tightly in his. “And maybe that’s what needed to happen for me, Abigail. I’ve worked hard to live a normal life. And Ruby’s been great. But it’s like I hit a plateau and that was all I expected from my future. More of the same.”
She stared down at where he held her hands, trying to make sense of that urgent touch in relation to his words. “I don’t understand.”
“When you came along, you pulled me off the plateau, bringing me higher and closer to whole. And it was great. I thought life might open up for me. That I could do more. Be more.” He gentled his hold on her, smoothing his thumbs over her knuckles. Soothing them. “But when I froze up in the exam room—I knew I needed to be there for you and I felt like a blank slate. I was scared for you and that tiny child you carry inside you, but I knew it didn’t even show on my face. It’s like this filter goes up between me and how I feel.”
“I remember.” She thought back to that day, seeing it in a different light. Remembering how remote he’d seemed. “It didn’t seem like you.”
She’d been hurt even then, before she heard about the abnormality.
“Exactly. I came face-to-face with my own failing and I know you deserve better.” He sounded too certain.
“What if I don’t want better?” She thought about how happy it made her to fall asleep in his arms, even if he wasn’t ready to share a bed with her for the full night. How much she loved enjoying a meal with him under the stars. Or sharing her artwork and seeing his eyes light up, like he understood what she was trying to create. “Vaughn, what if I want you, just the way you are?”
“Abigail. You deserve better, and that’s what I want you to have.” His voice brooked no argument.
Her heart fell. She dragged in a raw breath, ready to fight for him. For them.
But he spoke first. “If you’ll give me another chance, I can promise you that I will never, ever walk away from you again.”
She blinked at the unexpected words. Had he really said what she thought he just said?
“Another chance?” Her voice sounded just like Zoe’s had minutes before, a whisper that said she hardly dared to believe what she’d heard.
Vaughn let go of one hand to cup her cheek in his palm.
“I know I don’t deserve you, but I do love you, Abigail. So much. And if you’ll have me, I will spend the rest of my days making you and that little girl happy.” His thumb stoked along her cheek.
Her heart swelled with love for him. Happiness beckoned and she wouldn’t ever turn that away. She trusted his sense of honor. His commitment to what he said. She had been hurt so deeply by Rich that she had been guarding her heart carefully, fearing being taken advantage of again. But Vaughn Chambers was nothing like Rich Lowell. The doctor who sacrificed his career to help injured soldiers overseas was a selfless, caring man, and the
