I collapse on the spot. Flatline. Cause of death: Winnie Sorrentino.
She looks so beautifully ecstatic, yet peaceful, like that lick of frosting temporarily erased all her woes.
“You make everything better,” I blurt, my voice ragged.
Her eyes open, meeting mine. We’re standing close now—her rose perfume scent makes me want to lean in and never stop breathing. Yet, I see the hint of exhaustion in her face, the worry lines between her brows.
“What’s wrong?” I set down the bowl, giving her my full attention. “And don’t say ‘nothing.’ You’ve been crying.”
“How do you—?” She stops. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Talk to me.” I boost her onto the counter and kiss her forehead, then brace my hands on either side of her legs.
She lets out a little gasp and stares at me like she appreciates me taking charge, insisting she sit, rest, take a load off.
“I don’t want to burden you with my problems.” Her voice breaks slightly.
I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my hand linger against her cheek. “You could never be a burden to me. Whatever it is, I want to know. I want to help. Is it about the restaurant or something else?”
Please don’t say it’s about us.
She leans into my touch for just a second before pulling back, nodding. “My brother said they received an eviction notice for the restaurant. And I’ve been trying to fix it, sending money home, but it’s not enough and I don’t know what else to do and?—”
The words pour out of her, each with a thud, revealing the weight she’s been carrying. The pressure to fix everything, save everyone, be perfect at all times.
I take both her hands in mine. “You’re not alone. Don’t have to do this alone.”
“But that’s just it. If I don’t fix it, no one will.”
“Did anyoneask you to?”
She blinks at me. “What?”
“Did your family ask you to drain your savings to save their restaurant?”
“Well, no, but?—”
“So you decided to take on their financial crisis by yourself, without telling them, while also managing a full-time job, fixing up your grandmother’s house, and planning the biggest fundraiser this town has seen in years?”
She looks slightly sheepish. “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to be a superhero. But even superheroes need a team, Winnie. You can’t save everyone by yourself. I happen to be an expert on this.”
Eyes liquid, she looks up at me. “But what if I can’t save anyone at all?”
The vulnerability in her voice splinters something open in my chest. This woman believes her worth is tied to how much she can do for other people.
“Listen to me.” I pull her closer, framing her face with my hands so she has to look at me. “You are valuable because you’re you and not because of what you can do or fix or solve or how much you give. Anyone who fails to see that isn’t worth the effort.”
She wraps her arms around me and presses her cheek to my chest. I slide my arms around her and kiss the top of her head, then rest my chin there.
“I meant what I said earlier about you deserving someone who builds you up.” I take a breath, preparing to jump off this cliff. “I want to be that person.”
“But I thought you hated me.”
I peer down at her. “If this is what hate looks like, we’ve had it all wrong. I’m sorry I made a bad first impression andinsulted you. I’ll never call you Parks & Recs Princess again if you don’t want me to.”
She bashfully bobs her shoulder. “Maybe I want you to.”
