“Jesus, Saff?—”
Snapper crossed the kitchen and dropped to his knees beside my chair. His hands framed my face, turning me toward him.
I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t let him see me breaking.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what?”
“Any of it. All of it.” I shook my head, pulling away from his hands. “I’m so tired.”
“Then, rest.”
“I can’t.” Another sob tore through me. “If I stop, if I rest, if I let go for even a second?—”
“What? What happens if you let go?”
“We lose everything.”
Snapper went still. “The foreclosure.”
I looked up. “You knew?”
“I heard rumors. How bad is it?”
Everything poured out of me. The call from the bank. The threat that if we didn’t bring the account current, they’d begin foreclosure.
“That’s why I needed the favor,” I said. “Why I needed your family’s grapes and equipment. Why the wine has to work. This is the only chance.” My voice broke. “And what if it doesn’t work? What if I fail? What if I lose everything anyway?”
Silence stretched between us. I waited for him to tell me I should’ve trusted him sooner. That I’d made everything worse.
Instead, he said, “Okay.”
I blinked. “Okay?”
“Okay. We make the wine. We save the winery.”
“Snapper—”
“You’re not alone, Saffron. You hear me?”
“You don’t understand how much money?—”
“I don’t care about the money. I care about you.”
“But—”
“Listen to me.” His intensity made me go still. “We have what we need. The wine is going to work. And if it doesn’t, we’ll figure out another way. But you’re done carrying this alone.” He sighed. “And that’s another thing. I want you to know that I get why you don’t want your dad to know.”
“You do?”
“Yes. He’d never accept the help, and not because he wouldn’t appreciate it. His pride…”
I was crying again, but I felt lighter. My chest loosened. My shoulders dropped. Air came easier.
“I’m so tired,” I whispered.
“I know.”
