30. Sable
CHAPTER 30
sable
I couldn’t move. I also couldn’t look away from Heath.
The clapping started in pockets around the room, hesitant at first but growing louder and more insistent. I looked around the ballroom.
Was Alexa clapping?
What the fuck was going on?
I felt like a bomb had gone off, leaving a persistent buzz in my ear. The band had started playing again, and the sounds of conversation flowed through the crowd, but I didn’t hear any of it. All I could hear was Heath’s voice, echoing in my mind on an endless loop.
“Sable didn’t deserve what I said to her.”
“Sable, I’m sorry.”
“I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest like a shield, my face burning thanks to all the curious stares. I’d always been a source of gossip, but this was a whole new level of attention, which I hadn’t asked for—and yet, it wasn’t unwanted. It was… nice .
Heath had just stood in front of Aspen’s most powerful people—who in the past had mocked and dismissed me, had looked down their noses at me for years—and defended me. Publicly. Loudly. In a way no one had ever done before.
“Holy shit,” Casey whispered. “That was intense.”
“Yeah.”
“Heath Falkner just went full rom-com hero on you.” Mackenna nudged my shoulder. “How do you feel?”
“Like I need air,” I muttered.
I got up on unsteady legs and walked out of the ballroom, into the garden, where people milled. I kept walking. The night air was cool and crisp, telling me that the change of the season was on its way.
I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until I reached the gazebo at the edge of the resort’s garden. Someone had followed me. I turned to tell Casey I just needed a moment when I saw Heath.
I took a step into the gazebo and stared at him. “What was that?”
He took a few steps to reach me and stood close, facing me.
I was torn between walking away and staying. I’d already run once tonight—was I going to do it again?
“Why did you do that?” My voice shook.
“What part, Bambi?”
Tears filled my eyes at his use of the nickname. I’d missed him calling me Bambi. I’d missed him so much. You couldn’t turn love down like the volume on a radio. You couldn’t just reduce its intensity because the man you loved was an idiot. And you definitely couldn’t ignore it when the man apologized in front of God and everyone in Aspen.
I gestured vaguely toward the ballroom. “The speech, the apology, all of it.”
As he stepped closer, I could smell his cologne. I remembered how comforted his arms around me made me feel. “Because you deserved a public apology.”
I shook my head, wrapped my arms around myself, and looked down at my feet—at the stupid heels I was wearing, the ones that hurt. But I wanted to look good, to show him, and vanity had made me put them on.
“I don’t get it.”
“Yes, you do.” He put a finger under my chin and raised my face. “I hurt you. I didn’t stand up for you when you needed me most. And I hate myself for it.”
I blinked back a sudden surge of fresh tears. Soon, they’d be rolling down my cheeks, and I’d feel pathetic.
“I love you,” he confessed and blew me away. “I love the way you care about people. The way you’ve turned the Wildflower into something amazing. The way you make everything brighter, even when you don’t mean to, because that’s who you are.”
I took an involuntary step back. “Heath….”
“I know you’re scared.” He took a step forward. “I get it. I’m scared, too. I’m scared of messing this up again, of hurting you again. But I’m more scared of not trying. Of losing you completely. My love is bigger than my fear.”
Was my love bigger than my fear? I didn’t know, I thought, panicked. I didn’t know anything anymore.
Heath loved me. Loved me? No one had loved me.
My husband of eight years hadn’t.
But he never apologized, Sable. Never!
Heath pulled me into his arms and held me tightly, his chin resting on top of my head. “I want a second chance, Sable. I want it for me, for you, for us, and for Juno.”
I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His eyes searched mine, his expression open and vulnerable.
Had he said Juno? What was he saying?
He dropped his lips to mine. It started soft, tentative, like he was afraid that I’d bolt. When I didn’t, the kiss deepened, and I let myself sink into him.
When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. My heart pounded.
“I don’t know if my love is bigger than my fear,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“It is.” His hands squeezed around my waist where they rested. “I know it is.”
I shook my head, stepping out of his embrace. “I’m scared, Heath. If you hurt me again, I don’t know if I can survive it.”
He reached for me, but I took another step back.
“But what if I don’t hurt you again?” he challenged.
“No. This is…these kinds of things don’t happen to me. You don’t understand. ”
He looked at me with sympathy. “I do, darlin’. I absolutely do.”
He did. I knew he did.
“No.” I shook my head. “No,” I repeated. I didn’t know if I was turning him down or telling myself to stop myself from falling into his arms and for him all over again.
I sidestepped him and ran out of the gazebo in my stupid heels. I fought the urge to look back and succeeded in not doing so.
I didn’t stop until I was in my car.
I rested my forehead on the steering wheel, my chest heaving.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that this time would be different. But the scars of my past were too deep, and I couldn’t risk my heart again.
I was crying as I drove home.
I was sad for not being braver, for not having Heath’s courage, for being afraid.