His jaw tightens. "Yes."
The honesty hurts, even now.
"You couldn't even look at me sometimes."
His gaze drops to mine. "I know."
I swallow, trying to fight the tears. "That was the worst part."
His brows furrow as he watches me. "What was?"
"Not knowing." The words come out softer than I intended. "I knew something had changed, but I didn't know why." I look away. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind."
"About marrying you?"
I shrug. "What else was I supposed to think?"
He goes very still and for a long moment neither of us says anything.
Then his hand cups the back of my head. "That was never the problem, Quinn."
My heart stumbles. "Then what was?"
"The possibility that I was wrong about you." His voice is low and careful. "And the fact that I didn't know which answer would be worse."
Silence spreads between us for a moment, but I let out a slow breath. "That's a horrible answer."
I watch the corner of his mouth twitch. "I know."
"No, seriously." I shift slightly so I can look at him properly. "Only you could make something sound that complicated."
A low laugh rumbles in his chest.
I smile despite myself, then the smile fades. Because there's something I've been wondering for a while now, something nobody really talks about.
"Can I ask you something?"
His fingers continue moving through my hair. "You keep asking that after you've already asked."
I roll my eyes. "Lorenzo."
His mouth twitches. "Ask."
I hesitate, take a steadying breath, and then ask. "Was your mother anything like mine?"
Lorenzo lets out a slow breath. "No."
The answer comes without hesitation. I don't know why, but I'm relieved.
"No?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "My mother wasn't soft. She wasn't the type to fuss over people or smother us with affection." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. "If one of us was injured she'd tell us to stop bleeding on her floors."
A laugh escapes me. "I would have liked her."
"You would have." There's certainty in his voice. His gaze drifts toward the window. "My mother loved us. There was never any doubt about that." The smile fades from his face. "She made sure we knew it."
Something twists in my chest, because I can't imagine what that must have felt like to never question it, to never wonder, to never spend your life trying to earn something that should have been given freely.
