Pepper’s eyes glistened. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was terrified of disappointing you. Ironic, right? I ended up doing exactly what I feared most.” I took her hand, pressed it against my chest. “I can’t promise I’ll never get called away again. But I can promise that when I’m here, I’ll truly be here. Present. Putting us first.”
“Pretty words,” she whispered, but her fingers curled against my skin.
“Not just words. I’m asking for a chance to prove it. To show you I’ve learned. To try again—really try this time.” I lifted her hand to my lips. “I want to fight for us the way I should have before.”
I watched emotions play across Pepper’s face. Doubt. Hope. Fear. Longing. I’d seen them all before, but never with such intensity, never with so much at stake.
She pulled away slightly, not breaking contact completely but creating space between us. My heart sank a little at the distance.
“I need to think, Rhett.” Her voice was soft but steady. “This isn’t just about today or even the last few weeks. We tried for years and it fell apart.”
“I know.” I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pull her back, to convince her with touch what my words might fail to do. “Take whatever time you need.”
The silence stretched between us, broken only by the ceiling fan’s persistent click. I wanted to fill it with more promises, more explanations, more of everything that might tip the scales in my favor. But I’d said my piece. Pushing harder now would only prove I hadn’t changed at all.
So I waited, memorizing the curve of her shoulder, the flutter of her pulse at her throat, the way her hair spilled across the pillow. If this was the last time I’d hold her like this, I wanted to remember every detail.
My chest tightened with the possibility that she might say no. That despite everything—the porch, the meals, this afternoon—she might decide the risk wasn’t worth taking. That I wasn’t worth taking. The thought sent icy fear through me, worse than any burning building I’d ever faced.
But forcing her hand would be selfish. The old Rhett would have done that—made it about his needs, his timeline. I couldn’t be that man anymore.
“Whatever you decide,” I said finally, tracing my thumb across her knuckles, “I meant what I said. All of it.”
Pepper nodded, her eyes searching mine. I held her gaze, letting her see everything—my fear, my hope, my love. No more hiding. My heart hammered against my ribs as I waited. And waited.
Eyes never leaving mine, she took a deep breath. “I want to believe you, Rhett. I do.” She sat up, pulling the sheet with her, creating a barrier between us. “But words are easy. Living them is the hard part.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“If we try this—” She hesitated, and hope flared in my chest at that simple ‘if’ “—there have to be rules.”
“Anything,” I said, too quickly. “Whatever you need.”
Her lips quirked in a half-smile. “First, we go slow. No moving back in together right away. We date—real dates, not just you fixing things around the house.”
“I can do that,” I said, sitting up beside her.
“Second, we talk. Really talk. No more of that stoic firefighter bullshit where you shut down because you think you’re protecting me.” She poked my chest with her finger. “I need to know what’s going on in your head, especially when things get tough.”
I caught her hand, held it against my heart. “I promise.”
“Third,” she continued, her voice softening, “if you get deployed again, we figure out how to handle it together. No more unilateral decisions about what I can or can’t handle.”
The guilt of that hit me square in the chest. I’d shut her out before my previous deployments, convinced I was sparing her worry. All I’d done was push her away when we both needed each other most.
“And last,” she said, meeting my eyes directly, “I need you to understand that I’m scared, Rhett. Terrified. Loving you nearly broke me last time.”
My throat tightened. “I know. I’m scared too.”
Her eyes widened slightly at the admission.
“But I swear to you, Pepper,” I said, bringing her hand to my lips, “I will do everything in my power not to hurt you again. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I can promise I’ll never stop trying to be better. To be the man you deserve.”
She studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeated, hardly daring to believe.
