“You have to walk away, Henry,” I wept softly. “I don’t know how to let myself be loved that way. And I’m too scared to try.”

He stared at me, his jaw clenched. “Okay, Sylvia. You win.” Then he yanked the door open, and a second later he was gone.

I shut the door quickly so I wouldn’t have to watch him walk away. Leaning my forehead against it, I continued to cry as quietly as I could.

That’s when I heard the voice behind me at the top of the stairs.

“Mom?”

I gulped back a sob and tried to speak normally. “I’ll be right there, Whit.”

She paused. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” I used the bottom of my sweater to dry my face. “Give me a minute, all right?”

“Okay.”

I did my best to pull myself together before going upstairs, but it was a futile effort. Thankfully, Whitney’s light was already out when I entered her room. She was tucked beneath the sheets, holding her bear at her chest. I sat at the edge of her bed and smoothed her hair back.

“Who was at the door?” she asked.

“Mr. DeSantis.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a minute, playing with her stuffed bear’s ears. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I knew it was Mr. DeSantis. And I heard you talking.”

“Oh.” I struggled for the right words. “I’m—I’m sorry you heard us. It must have been very upsetting. But I promise, Whitney, there is nothing going on between us. We are not dating.”

“I know. I heard.”

“After you and I talked on New Year’s Eve, he and I decided we wouldn’t get romantically involved.”

She hesitated. “Because of me?”

“No! No, honey, it wasn’t because of you. It’s because it was too soon. I wasn’t ready. Ever since then, we’ve only worked together. But even that is going to stop now.”

She rolled onto her side, facing me. “He said he loves you.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Do you believe him?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Whitney. That’s part of the problem.”

“Do you love him?”

“Not the way I love you.”

“But do you love him?”

“That’s . . . that’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a yes or no question.”

Oh God, I was totally fucking this up, wasn’t I? What was the right thing to do? Tell her the truth and risk her feeling guilty and scared? Or lie to her to make her feel safe? I searched my heart and found myself unable to do either one. Instead, I tried to think about what my own mother would have said.

“Yes, Whitney. I do love him. But I don’t want to. My feelings are all mixed up right now—I’m working on sorting them out. The important thing is, nothing is going to change. All the promises I made to you, I’m going to keep. We’re going to move into our new house, fix it up just the way we want it, fill our barn with animals to take care of, and have the best time ever.”

She looked at me a moment longer. “Okay.”

I leaned over and gave her a long hug. “You and your brother are the most important things in my life,” I told her. “You’re all I need to be happy.”

It was when I was leaving her room, the door nearly shut behind me, that I thought I heard her say, “I don’t believe you.”

But she said it so quietly, I couldn’t be sure she’d said anything at all.

Twenty-Three

Henry

Two weeks went by.

Two endless, miserably lonely weeks during which I didn’t see her at all.

The vineyard seemed lifeless without her at my side. The cellar felt like an inescapable dungeon. But the walls of my empty house seemed determined to close in on me, so I spent more time than ever at work.

For the first few days, I kept hoping she’d change her mind and show up to work at the winery. But she didn’t, and when Chloe began emailing me responses to the job listing she’d posted for tasting room manager, my heart sank—she really wasn’t coming back.

I went to the gym every morning and sometimes in the evening too, nearly busting my hands taking my anger out on the bag. I was fucking furious with myself for forcing the situation. Why couldn’t I have had a little more patience? Given her a little breathing space? Let her come to me when she was ready? Instead I had to go charging over there like a bull in a china shop, destroying everything with my clumsy attempt to win her fragile heart.

And every night, I lay awake yearning to be with her and wondering how the hell you got over losing someone who was never yours in the first place.

Valentine’s Day fell on a Friday, and I decided to spend the evening at the gym. I’d just come through the door when I heard a voice call my name.

“Hi Mr. DeSantis!” It was Keaton. He was standing near the entrance, probably waiting to be picked up.

“Hey, Keaton. How’s it going?”

“Good.”

“How was your class tonight?”

“Great.” He smiled enthusiastically. “I really love it, and the coach says I’m really improving.”

“I bet you are.” I gave him a grin. He looked healthy and happy, maybe even taller than when I’d last seen him on New Year’s Eve. Kids grew so fast.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you about something,” he said. “It’s for my science fair project.”

“Sure, go ahead.” I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder.

“I want to do an experiment to test whether music affects plant growth. My grandpa thought maybe you’d be able to help me.”

“What a cool idea. I’d love to help you.” I paused. “But make sure it’s okay with your mom, all right?”

“Okay.”

Just then, Whitney came rushing through the door. “Keaton, we’ve been out there forever! Mom says to come on.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, gesturing at me. “I was talking to Mr. DeSantis. He’s going to help me with my science fair project.”

Whitney’s face flushed. “Oh . . . hi.”

“Hi, Whitney. How are you?”

“Good.” She looked at my feet rather than make eye contact. “We should go, Keaton.”

“Okay.” He looked up at me hopefully. “Should I come to Cloverleigh to get help? We moved into our new house so we don’t live there anymore, but I could ask my mom to bring me.”

“Sure. Any time you see my truck in the lot, I’m there,” I told him, wondering if Sylvia was going to be upset that he’d asked me for help. I couldn’t resist one last question. “How is your mom?”

“She’s good,” Keaton said, pulling open the door. “Bye.”

“Bye.” I watched them both exit and hurry toward a white SUV that waited outside. I could barely make out Sylvia’s silhouette in the driver’s seat, but I knew it was her, and my body’s reaction was swift and fierce. My chest tightened. My hands clenched. My skin was hot under my clothes. The weeks apart hadn’t done anything to ease the longing in my heart—I still wanted her.