He was seriously stressed.
“Sorry.” His lips rose a hair, but that minuscule lift seemed to require a huge effort. “I’m a little nervous.”
She tried to mask her shock as the significance of that revelation registered.
This was not a man who ever revealed the slightest weakness to anyone. Martin Fisher had been well-trained by his father to always keep up a strong front.
“So am I.” There was no reason to pretend otherwise.
He acknowledged her admission with a dip of his chin. Linked his fingers on the table. “Let me start off by saying I don’t blame you for walking out. You were right about all the issues you raised through the years, and I was 100 percent in the wrong. I made a lot of bad decisions on the home front.”
“Yes, you did.” No way was she going to cut him any slack, even if his willingness to admit culpability was admirable.
“If I could go back and change what happened, I would. But at this point, all I can do is apologize.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I shut you out when I inherited a mess at the mill. I’m sorry for my impatience and testiness and all the hurtful, unkind, demeaning things I’ve said. I’m ashamed of them, and I regret every single one. I’m sorry I put the mill ahead of our family. I’m sorry I tried to compensate for that by giving you and Lucas things instead of being there for you. I’m sorry for getting so caught up in work that I lost perspective and forgot that saving a family legacy means nothing if you lose that family in the process.”
The server swung by with a basket of bread, and Martin fell silent. Took another sip of his water.
After the man left, he continued. “You walking out was the spur I needed to reevaluate my priorities and realize how messed up they were. So since you left, I’ve been making some course corrections and trying to get my life back on track.”
“I’ve heard about a number of them.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Lucas told me you visited him.”
“Yes. Did he give you many details?”
“Some, but I’d like to hear your take.”
He complied, and his recap of the trip mirrored what Lucas had relayed—including his conclusion.
“Bottom line, he agreed to stay in touch, and we’ve been texting every couple of days. I was grateful he was willing to give me another chance, and I’m hoping he’ll want to come home for a weekend down the road.”
The server appeared with their lunch, and silence fell as the man deposited their plates on the table and refilled their water glasses.
When he left, Diane picked up her fork. “I also heard about the lumber donation for the show, and that you’re helping build the sets. I understand you’ve gone back to church too.”
One side of his mouth rose. “It sounds like you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. It’s a small town. News travels.” She broke off a bite of her quiche.
“I do have one other piece of information to share that isn’t public knowledge yet.”
At a curious nuance in his inflection, she gave him a wary look. “Okay.”
“I asked Aaron Steele to take an equity interest in the mill as my partner.”
What?
She stared at him. Set her fork down as she tried to digest that bombshell. “Why?”
“Lucas has no interest in being part of the business, and I’d like to see the mill continue. The key driver, though, was that sharing management duties will free me up to spend more time with the woman I love.” His gaze locked onto hers, his eyes filled with hope and desperation and the kind of devotion she hadn’t seen in years. “I love you, Diane. I always have and I always will. You’re everything to me, and I’m sorry I haven’t told you that moreoften in the past fourteen years. I’m also sorry my behavior didn’t demonstrate how I felt.”
Her vision blurred, and she glanced down.
Those were the words she’d hoped he’d say the day he’d come to see her at Anna’s. The ones she’d longed to hear all the nights he’d spent in his home office while she’d slept alone. The ones she’d begun to wonder if she’d ever hear again.
“There have been days I doubted that. When I thought you’d stopped loving me.” She could barely choke out the confession.
His features contorted, as if he was in pain. “Never. And until the day I die, I’ll regret letting all the problems at the mill mess with my priorities.”
She looked at him, this man who’d stolen her heart while they were both in the first blush of youth. He’d been handsome then. He still was, though his good looks had been tempered by worry and years that had added gray to his temples and lines to his face.
