Chapter 16 #2
"I'm not—" April stopped, swallowed hard. Because he was right. Even now, even after saying yes, part of her was still braced for impact. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Shane was watching her with those eyes that saw too much, his expression patient and concerned and so damn tender it made her want to cry.
"I don't know how to do this," she finally admitted. "I don't know how to just... let go."
"Why not?"
"Because—" April's voice cracked. "Because bad things happen when I let my guard down. Because I make mistakes and people I love get hurt and—"
"And you've been trying to make up for it ever since," Shane finished quietly. "Haven't you?"
April looked away, but Shane's fingers gently turned her face back to his.
"April, you don't have to keep punishing yourself for leaving home. For what happened in Vegas. For any of it."
"You don't understand—"
"Then help me understand." Shane's thumb stroked her jaw. "Because from where I'm sitting, all I see is a woman who's been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders for so long she doesn't know how to put it down."
April's breath hitched. God, he saw right through her. Right down to the core of everything she'd been trying to ignore.
"I hurt them," she whispered. "My parents, Hannah, everyone. When I left, when I disappeared for all those years—I hurt them. And I'm still trying to make up for it."
"By running yourself ragged at Riversong? By never taking a day off? By refusing to let yourself be happy?" Shane shook his head. "Baby, that's not atonement. That's punishment. And you don't deserve to be punished."
"Yes, I do—"
"No." Shane's voice was firm. "You don't. You made choices you thought were right at the time.
You survived. You came home. You brought them Kevin.
" His hands tightened on her hips. "Your family has forgiven you.
Hell, I bet if you asked your dad, he'd say there was never anything to forgive in the first place. "
April's eyes stung. Because Shane was right—she'd apologized a thousand times and her parents had told her to stop. They'd never blamed her. They'd just been grateful she was home.
But April had never forgiven herself.
"I don't know if I deserve to be happy," she whispered.
"Why not?"
"Because—" The tears spilled over then, hot tracks down her cheeks. "Because I did so many dumb things. Brought so much pain to everyone I love."
"You don't think Kevin is a mistake, do you?"
April's head snapped up, fury flooding through her.
"Of course not. He's the best thing that ever happened to me.
I'd crawl over broken glass through hell and back for my son.
I'd go through it all again—every humiliation, every beating, every terrifying night when I wasn't sure if I'd see the morning.
All of it to make sure I still had Kevin. "
"Then what are you trying to atone for?" Shane asked gently. "Coming home? Asking your family for help? Having the courage to rebuild your life?"
"The pain I caused them. The worry. The—" April's voice broke. "I've been trying to make up for it. Helping with the shop, being there for everyone, going without so they can have extra—"
"But you deserve—"
"Don't tell me what I do and don't deserve." April pulled back, wrapping her arms around herself. "I already know."
Shane was quiet for a long moment, watching her.
Then he said, very softly, "You don't know, April.
You don't have the first clue. You can't drag your past around with you forever.
You came back here to get away from it, but you brought all the fear, all the pain, all the undeserved guilt, right back with you. " He leaned forward. "Let it go."
"I can't." April squeezed her eyes shut.
"Why—"
"I don't know how!" The words burst out of her, raw and desperate. A tear slid down her cheek and she opened her eyes. "I don't know how to stop feeling like I owe everyone everything. Like being happy would be taking something away from someone else."
Shane studied her, his expression shifting from concern to understanding.
"I get it now," he said quietly. "April, you being happy wouldn't take anything away from the people who love you.
They don't want to see you sad. They don't want to punish you for anything.
They've forgiven you—hell, they never blamed you in the first place. "
"But—"
Shane held up his hand. "Even though I'm sure you've given them hundreds of apologies by now."
Damn him for being right. She'd apologized until they'd told her to stop. So she'd converted all that energy into action—helping at Riversong, running errands, taking care of Kevin, never letting herself just... be happy.
Because she didn't feel like she deserved it.
"There is so much going on in your head right now," Shane said softly, reaching for her. "Let me in."
April started to lean toward him, then froze. Old instinct, old fear. She turned her face away—no, she flinched.
Flinched.
Like she was expecting him to hit her denying him anything.
The silence that followed was deafening.
When April finally looked back at Shane, his face had gone pale. Not angry—devastated.
"April," he breathed. "Did you think I was going to—" He couldn't even finish the sentence. "Baby, I would never—"
"I know." The words rushed out. "I know you wouldn't. That's not—I didn't mean—" She was shaking now, horrified at herself, at the automatic response her body had learned from Vince all those years ago.
Shane hadn't moved. Hadn't reached for her. He’d laid his hands carefully flat on his thighs, giving her space.
"It kills me to see you in so much pain," he said quietly.
April stared at him, not believing what she was hearing. Not anger. Not accusations. Just... grief. For her.
"You thought I was going to slap you for denying me something.
For telling me no." Shane's voice was rough with emotion.
"You're one of the strongest people I know, April.
And the thought of you keeping yourself under lock and key out of fear—fear of being hit by someone who supposedly cares about you—" He shook his head. "That kills me."
"Shane—"
"I just want you to be happy." He said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That's all I've ever wanted. Even when you weren't mine to want it for."
April's heart cracked open then. She looked at this man who'd seen her at her worst, who knew all her mistakes, who'd watched her flinch away from him and hadn't gotten angry. Who just wanted her to be happy.
"There is no doubt in my mind that you could hold up the entire sky by yourself if you had to," Shane said.
"But I'm here to tell you—you don't have to do it anymore.
Not because you can't, but because you shouldn't have to.
Not all alone. Not as long as I'm in your life.
" He finally, carefully, reached for her hand.
"I'm not here to tell you you're weak. I'm here to help you be strong. "
A sob broke free from April's throat. Shane pulled her close, and she went—collapsing into him, letting him hold her while she finally, finally let herself feel all of it—including the desperate hope that maybe she didn't have to carry everything alone anymore.
"I've got you," Shane murmured into her hair. "I've got you, baby. I'm not going anywhere."
“It’s okay to let go,” he whispered in April’s ear.
“I know how you are, April. I know how you carry the weight of the world—of your family, or your business, of the whole world—on your shoulders. You think no one can help you carry it, but I can. I can, April. I’m not the scared, cowed boy I was.
I’m a man who’s never forgotten you. Who’s wanted you for so damn long.
Who would do anything for you. Let me have it, April. ”
“Have what?”
“Have everything you’re carrying right now. All your responsibility. All your fear. All your anger. Give it to me. Give it to me, and all I’m gonna give back to you is my strength. My—”
“Don’t say it, Shane.”
“Don’t say what? That I love you?”
“No.”