She took a deep breath, sucking in all his strength, all his persistence. “I know. That’s one of the things that was so hard, after I started getting over the depression. Knowing I didn’t deserve you any more.” Oh, damn, there was that word again, that her support group tried to stop themselves from using. “That I’d lost you.”
He stared at her. “You don’t—deserve—fuck, Kai. Are you kidding me? You didn’t come back to me because you didn’t think I’d take you? God, Kai. I would have crawled on my hands and knees. You were so damned brave. You tried so damned hard. I was worthless. I don’t even know what you think the word deserve means.”
Her throat knotted. “You’ve never been worthless, Kurt. Never. Never. I’m so sorry I—”
He placed his hand over her mouth. Gently this time. “I think you’ve said that enough, sweetheart. All I needed to know was that you were sorry you left me and ready to try again. Now let that go, Kai. You suffered enough, without spending the rest of your life beating yourself up for how hard the suffering was for you to handle on top of it.” His gaze ran from her face to her belly, and he hesitated, but then he curled his hand gently over her abdomen, pulling her in for a careful hug with his hand protecting her womb. “Forgive yourself,” he whispered to her hair. “Kai, sweetheart, not one single thing that happened was your fault. Not one—single—thing. Remember that, honey.”
Her mouth twisted, bittersweet and weary, but with that whisper of hope. “You sound like my support group.”
“Good, then, I’ve gotten one thing right.”
She buried her face against his chest. “Forgiveness hurts,” she admitted very low.
His hand rubbed her hair heavily. “It all hurts, honey. I would take it from you, if I could. But all I can do—all I’ve ever been able to do—is my best to share it.”
I love you so much, she thought into his chest. But the hurt of the words this time was a sweeter, gentler ache, as if a mass of toxins that had gotten caught in the idea of love had been squeezed out and rinsed clean. She stepped back enough to look into his face and touch his cheek. “Kurt. Don’t beat yourself up either. You did everything you could. I just wish—I hadn’t hurt you so much. I still don’t understand how you can be willing to try again, when you know how unhappy it can be.”
He shook his head. “Kai. What did you think it meant, when I said I loved you? That love was just this bright, happy thing?”
She hesitated and shrugged a little, opening her hands. Kind of, yes. Wasn’t that what it was? Brightness and happiness? Or at least what it was supposed to be?
His hand curved around her face. “So did I, maybe,” he said quietly. “But when it wasn’t so bright or happy—that didn’t mean I wanted to let it go.”
Her eyes filled.
“Or let you go,” he said very softly.
The tears spilled over.
“Kai.”
“I just still don’t understand,” she whispered. “How you can love me even now. There’s a whole huge part of me that doesn’t believe you can ever love me, ever again. Not really. How could you?”
His thumb traced one of her tears away. “Because you didn’t know I could still love you, when you weren’t laughing, when you were ugly and desperate, when your life was hard?”
She shook her head, crying openly now. No, she hadn’t known that. She still didn’t understand it.
“Well.” He bent and kissed her, tasting the tears off her lips. “Now you do.”
The End
Copyright ? 2013, Laura Florand
Thank You
Thank you so much for reading Snow-Kissed! For more stories from me, check out my website: lauraflorand.com
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And for some more glimpses of Kai and Kurt, check out SunKissed, the story of Kurt’s mother:
SunKissed
They called her the Ice Queen.
Anne Winters. Self-made billionaire. Household name. Divorced single mom. Convicted felon. She didn’t let anyone or anything get to her. No one was allowed to breach the walls around her heart except for her own son. She had only one trusted friend: her vacation house neighbor. They’d been walking the beach together for twenty years. Not that this gave him access to her heart, of course…
They called him a man who got what he wanted.
Mack Corey. Self-made billionaire. Dominant world player. Widowed father of the bride. No felony convictions yet, although his daughters had come close. He’d transformed his family company into one of the top 500 by the age of thirty. He’d raised two daughters who dumped him for idiot arrogant French chocolatiers and went off to live in Paris. Hell, he even managed to tolerate his dad. But that Ice Queen act Anne Winters had going was really starting to get to him…
They’d been best friends for twenty years. Could they become lovers?
Could a frozen heart be kissed by the sun?
Available now!
Christmas Eve: A Love Story
by
M. O’Keefe
About the Book