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My focus instinctively swings to her scars before I can think better of it. “No, I guess not.”

Which is the wrong thing to say.

She pulls her fingers from the comfort of mine. Her arms cross protectively over her chest. This quiet lull expands into a tension that clenches my jaw. It’s awkward and unnecessary. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“It was storming when I was hit.” Her voice is so brittle, I barely hear it over the downpour.

My pulse lunges into a gallop, squeezing my chest into a knot. Gemma broaching the subject of her accident is huge. I can’t fuck this up. Sweat slicks my palms as I try to get a grip.

“Do you want me to pull over?” I peek over at her without being too obvious.

“No, I’m okay.” Her exhale is uneven, but calm. “It was terrifying to be in a car for months after, but I conquered that fear. I refused to trapped at home or anywhere within walking distance. The physical damage has caused me the most problems, which makes me sound shallow. But the stares and rejections were unbearable. My scars would itch under their harsh scrutiny.”

The steering wheel creaks under my stranglehold. “Fuck all of them.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. It got easier eventually. I learned how to ignore them, shrug off their judgment. It wasn’t foolproof, but I managed. I also learned to accept my scars. We’re stuck together. For better or worse. That was a big hurdle and I fumbled over it. But then you stalked back into my life.”

“Like an unrelenting pest.” I try to smirk, but it’s weak at best.

“More like a balm for my wounded soul,” she murmurs.

My breath hitches. “Really?”

Gemma nods, swiping a tear off her cheek. “You fixed me.”

The suggestion churns a bout of nausea in my gut. “No, baby. You didn’t need to be fixed.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It might’ve been in my head.” Her watery gaze slides to me as she reclaims my hand. “Either way, I hadn’t truly felt like myself since the accident. Something was broken. Maybe it happened when the doctor removed the bandages to reveal the permanent damage. I might’ve been plagued by the unsolved mystery of who was driving the other vehicle. Nobody seemed to understand how to approach me. My own family suddenly treated me like I was made out of glass. They avoided anything that could shatter what was left of my fragile existence. It was frustrating, to say the least. The loneliness gnawed at me until I felt hollow. I couldn’t seem to truly move on. There was a lot of trauma to unpack in general.”

“Gem.” My voice wobbles. I’m not sure how much more I can hear without hugging her.

“It gets better,” she promises.

I gulp at the scrape of sandpaper in my throat. “Please tell me.”

“All those months I spent shutting you down,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I was still very angry, but not just at you. I was angry at who I’d allowed myself to become. That jaded version of myself wasn’t really living. Not until you dragged me out of the toxic cycle. You gave me what I couldn’t find on my own. Through your grovel fails and unconventional methods, I found myself again. Nobody else could’ve pulled me from that type of wreckage. So, yeah, Bronc. Take the credit. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be merely existing.”

Heat burns my eyes and I blink at the unshed tears. I bring our interlocked fingers to my trembling lips, kissing along her knuckles. A deep inhale fills my lungs with lilac perfume and our long, bright future together.

“It kills me that I wasn’t there for you,” I rasp against her soft skin. “I should’ve been at your bedside. Hell, I should’ve been driving and taken the hit.”

Gemma squeezes her palm against mine. “Don’t do that to yourself. I spent years agonizing over different scenarios. It’s unhealthy and pointless. I’m grateful you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

While keeping an eye on the road, I yank her close and kiss her forehead. “Thanks for talking to me. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”

She stays bent over the center console as if needing the physical contact too. “It was time. I want to be open and honest with you.”

A pressure in my chest loosens before disappearing completely. I hadn’t noticed it was even there. “That means more than you know, Wildflower.”

She stretches to kiss my cheek. “I appreciate you. This journey has new meaning now.”

I straighten in my seat “Aren’t you glad that you saw the light and agreed to let me tag along?”

Her laugh cracks through the lingering strain hanging around us. “Would’ve sucked without you.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

She bites her lip and glances out the window. “I’ll consider it.”