“Valerie, look. I was an idiot back then. I destroyed us. I have hated myself every single day for seven years.”
“I’ve been alone. My house is a museum. No amount of dating fills the void you left.”
“But that little girl… she didn’t do anything wrong. She deserves a father. Why did you punish her for my mistake?”
“What did you tell her? That her dad is dead? An astronaut? Why, Val?”
Valerie couldn’t speak. The lump in her throat was choking her. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her.
Looking at him, broken and pleading, she realized something terrifying. She hadn’t stopped loving him. Not for a single day.
“I’m coming with you,” Oliver said, standing up. His voice was firm now, the shock replaced by determination.
He looked at her, his expression softening into a sad smile. “You always were stubborn, Saint Valerie.”
Valerie looked up, surprised by the old nickname. A small, tentative smile touched her lips.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Come on.”
