He lifted a shoulder in a half-assed shrug as he adjusted the plate she’d set before him. “Yeah. I just haven’t felt like eating. Had a lot on mymind.”
She nodded her head and walked back to the fridge looking for something to drink. Water was a no-go. He needed calories, and probably some caffeine if the dark circles under his tired eyes were anyindication.
She pulled out her stash of pineapple soda she kept pushed to the back of the fridge. She didn’t indulge often, but whenever she had a craving, it was cold, crisp, and ready to go. She popped the top of a can and slid it across the counter tohim.
With a tilted head his eyes scanned the can, and then lifted to hers. “Pineapple soda? You are aware I’m well over the legal drinking age,right?”
“Yeah. But, the fact that you turned up on my doorstep looking like a scraggly throwaway tells me you probably need to switch to something with less alcoholiccontent.”
The paleness in his face gave way to a slight blush, confirming her suspicions he’d been drinking more of his meals than eatingthem.
“So, take a bite and unload. Why are you here,Slade?”
He took a large bite of the sandwich in his hands. His closed eyes sang his satisfaction, coupled with a deep hum emitting from between bites. Mandisa could tell the exact moment the flavor of the meat met his tastebuds.
“God, that’s good. Tasteslike—”
“Heaven? It’s my mom’srecipe.”
“I’ll deny it if you ever tell her, but these are better than my mama’sribs.”
Mandisa could feel her pride swell and spill into a wide grin. He wasn’t lying. Her late mother taught her to make damn good ribs. She just hoped they were good enough to get him lookinghealthier.
She watched him clean his plate and finish his can of soda. When he was done, she put away the food and his dirty dish, then spread her hands wide on thecountertop.
He must have recognized that she meant business, because he used a nearby paper towel to quickly wipe his mouth and fingers before turning to her and giving her his fullattention.
“I was wrong, Mandisa. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but I was sowrong.”
He looked up expectantly from his seat, as if hoping for her to throw him some sort of lifeline. She said nothing, just remained standing on the other side of the counter, continuing to watchhim.
“Bull met me in the parking lot earlier today. I thought he’d come to threaten me about the company. What he actually wanted was to see me in my misery. He told me he’d succeeded, because the bitterness of loss was what made him the man he turned out to be. Now he could rest easy, because I was turning in to a chip off the oldblock.”
She let out a slow breath through her nostrils, trying her best to release the weight of that statement. If it felt so heavy on her chest, she could only imagine the weight Slade must be carrying. Bearing a burden like that, recognizing the exact thing you hate in the mirror—it had killed lessermen.
From the moment she’d met Slade he’d been confident, so sure of himself and their connection that she’d had no choice but to follow him, to trust him. But seeing him here, with a dip in his shoulders and a sagging chin, all she saw was broken pieces of the man sheloved.
“The moment he said it, I got why you left, Mandisa. Before that moment, I didn’t. I won’t even lie to you about that. But once I went home and tried to drink away all this hurt that’s been sitting in my chest, I understood. You didn’t want to watch me turn into that. You didn’t want to see me becomehim.”
He was right—watching him become bitter and callous wasn’t on her lists of things to do. When you’d had the opportunity to experience something beautiful and natural, you didn’t want to see how a poison like hate could mutateit.
“I know I fucked up. I know I was wrong. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m asking for oneanyway.”
She could see the spark of hopefulness trying to light behind his dim eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted this as badly as he did his next breath. But doubt plagued her. Her legacy had been threatened, and he’d hidden it from her. He’d lied by omission and attempted to play God with her livelihood. How were they supposed to come back fromthat?
The doubt clawing from her heart, out into her chest was trying to strangle her. But even though she was so overwhelmed by it, every cell in her body begged for her to givein.
She loved Slade, probably from the first time he’d traced his lips across hers in that lounge. Spending time at his ranch had ingrained him in her system. She hadn’t thought about the cost of loving him then, but now, those consequences were all she could thinkabout.
“Mandisa? Darlin’, you haven’t given me ananswer.”
How could she give him an answer when she couldn’t produce one forherself?
Everything from the independent woman doctrine said when your man fucked up, you sent him packing. Breaking things off with Slade had been a knee-jerk reaction that felt expected in the moment. But, if she were honest, she’d never been at ease with it. How could she be when it was as if she was tearing off a piece of herbody?
Was it weak to want to forgive the error of the person you loved, just so you could love them again? Was this the part where she was supposed to hole up in a room with a bunch of bitter Betties who would praise her for humiliating him and sending him on his way? Or was there the slightest bit of strength inforgiveness?
Too tired to continue the spiritual battle going on inside her, she stepped around the counter and walked into his arms. He wrapped himself around her, and she cradled his head on her shoulder and stroked it until the tenseness in his body seepedaway.
