“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “So damn sorry.” His hand moved down to stroke her back.
Sophie took another shaky breath. “Those first weeks, months after I believed you had died, Phillip, they were a blur. I felt completely empty inside. I didn’t go out, didn’t talk, couldn’t eat. I gave up hope for a happy life.”
Phillip forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. “You’ve always been so positive, Sophie. I can’t imagine you giving up hope.”
The ghost of a smile passed over her lips. She met his gaze. “Did I ever tell you why I was always so positive?”
He shook his head. “I only know that the moment I met you, I felt as if the sun was shining on me.”
Another hint of a smile graced her lips before she lifted the wine bottle and took a sip. “You know my mama died when I was a girl.”
Phillip nodded.
“She’d been sick for months,” Sophie continued. “When it was time, I went to her bedside to say goodbye. I was sobbing. I told her I wanted to go with her. I told her I didn’t want to be here without her.” Tears slipped down Sophie’s face. She dabbed at them with the handkerchief.
Phillip’s eyes misted. He swallowed again.
“You know what Mama replied?” Sophie asked him, her voice a mere whisper.
“No,” he managed past his clogged throat.
“She told me that everyone has two choices in their life every single day, no matter what happens to them.” She took a deep breath. “The first choice is to be sad, to complain, to wonder why anything bad happens.” Another breath. “The second is to be happy, to see the good in everyone and everything, to decide that whatever comes, life is worth living.”
Phillip swallowed and nodded again.
Sophie swiped at the tears on her cheeks with the handkerchief. “Mama told me to make certain I didn’t become a sad, complaining person. She told me to ensure I woke up every morning and chose to be happy, because the things that come will come either way and it’s up to me to either embrace them with hope or curse them with hopelessness.”
“You chose hope,” Phillip murmured.
Sophie nodded and set the bottle back on the ground. “I chose it every day. Even when I didn’t get my way, or skinned my knee, or felt as if I was all alone. Even when Papa married Valentina and she was hideous to me. I chose to be happy because that’s what Mama wanted for me.”
Phillip reached down and squeezed her hand. His heart was in a vise. It hurt so much to hear these words, but he had no doubt it had hurt her much more to live through it.
Her brown eyes remained shiny with tears. “But Phillip, for months after I thought you were dead, I didn’t choose to be happy.” She shook her head. “There was no choice left for me. I couldn’t even remember what happy felt like.”
Expelling his pent-up breath, Phillip pulled her into his arms and hugged her fiercely, whispering in her ear, “Oh, Sophie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry I made you experience that grief once again. As long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself.”
When they pulled apart, Sophie continued, closing her eyes as if struggling with the memories. “I want you to know…by the time Valentina announced my engagement to Hugh, I didn’t care if I ever married, let alone to who. It was all just a blur. I only wanted her to stop pestering me to become betrothed.”
Sophie straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Everything after you was just fog, Phillip. It was all nothingness.” She turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, her eyes slightly red from crying.
Phillip leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “I know there’s nothing I can ever do to make it up to you, but—”
His words were silenced as Sophie tilted her chin forward and pressed her lips against his. The moment she did, Phillip tugged her into his arms and slanted his mouth across hers. She tasted like wine. She felt like heaven in his arms. He’d missed her so much. He’d loved her for years. And he was beyond sorry for the pain he’d caused her.
“Sophie,” he whispered, pulling his mouth from hers and kissing her temple, her cheek, her jaw. “Sophie.” He breathed in the scent of her hair and wiped his thumbs across her wet cheeks, kissing her again. “Please don’t cry. I’ll never make you cry again.”
In response, Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely.
A few minutes later, he pulled his mouth from hers and rested his forehead against hers again, his breathing still heavy from their kissing. “Do you still love me, Sophie?”
The hint of a smile lifted her lips, and she dabbed at her nose with the handkerchief. “Of course I do, you idiot.”
“I love you, too,” he breathed. “I never stopped.” He reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
She pulled her forehead from his and sat up straight, expelling her breath and folding the handkerchief on her lap. She was no longer crying. “I deserve to know the truth,” she said in a strong, clear voice. “What happened in Devon, Phillip? Why do you think you would no longer make a good husband?”
Phillip nodded slowly. It was time. “What I told you was true…partially. I was badly injured physically and—” His breath caught in his throat. Now that the moment had come, he couldn’t seem to force the words past his lips.
