“It takes a lot of strength to be better than your roots.”
“And I can’t relate to that at all.” Jesse shook his head. “If I can be half as good as my folks, I’ll be doing alright.”
Not wanting to talk about my parents, I shifted the conversation back. “This all makes me so sad. I like Cooper.”
His gaze roamed to my face, eyes curious. “What about him?”
I shrugged, locking up my favorite thing about Cooper since he’d sworn me to secrecy. “He has a bad boy front, but I don’t think that’s who he is on the inside. And his obnoxious side remarks make me laugh.”
That made Jesse chuckle. But he sobered quickly, his gaze falling to the floor again as his cheek rolled. “I haven’t been as kind to him as I could be.”
I hummed, saying nothing.
“It’s hard to remember in the moment that everyone has a beginning.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know…” He waved his hand in a circle. “Everyone is a product of their experience, their childhood, their pain. Not saying our pasts excuse bad behavior, but we should have mercy on people and give them the benefit of the doubt as much as we can. I haven’t been good at that with Cooper.”
I wasn’t sure why a lump rose to my throat at his confession. But I glanced away, pretending to be interested in a hideous painting on the wall. “We—could all be better at that.”
A few beats of silence passed as the girls giggled at something Cade said. My gaze found the three of them, noting the way they’d bonded like peas in a pod this morning.
Jesse’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts. “Hollie.” His brow furrowed, eyes serious. “I haven’t been good at that with you either.”
My mind raced, trying to catch up with the turn in our conversation.
“My conscience has been torturing me for days over the way I lashed out at you. Regardless of whether you were lying or telling the truth, there’s no excuse for the way I spoke to you.”
His words completely disarmed me. The last thing I expected was an apology.
Jesse gave a bitter chuckle. “I tell Cade all the time that life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you react to it.And Imassivelyoverreacted, embarrassed myself, and made you feel terrible. I just need you to know that I’m sorry.”
I blinked, trying hard not to gape.
“I don’t expect forgiveness, but I have to ask for it.”
I held my breath and waited for him to say “why didn’t you” or place some variation of the blame on me to soften the blow of his personal responsibility. And I would gladly shoulder some blame to put his guilt at ease, but…he didn’t reconstruct the moment or ask me to acknowledge my shortcomings.
Maybe that was the biggest surprise of all.
He continued, scuffing his boots over the tile. “It kills me that I ruined my chances with you, but I do hope you’ll forgive me and let me have another shot.”
My mind reeled.
Chances? Shot? Atwhat?
Always quick to forgive, I responded. “Of course I forgive you. I wasn’t very kind either, Jesse. I said stuff I shouldn’t have, too.” I braced myself for the conversation to turn against me. Waited for Jesse to reveal that he hadusedhis humility as a means to his real end:myapology.
That’s how men did it.
If Garrett forgave me, he flaunted it. If Garrett apologized, he demanded full restitution, emotional damages instantly soothed. If he admitted his wrongdoing, he expected me to do the same—quickly.
Jesse responded, “I don’t care about that. Whatever you said, I don’t remember it. And, knowing me, I probably deserved it anyway.”
“Well, I am sorry for being snotty. I hope you’ll forgive me, as well.”
Jesse shrugged, a smile pulling into his lips. “Can’t forgive what I can’t even remember.”
