Now it only makes me want to fight. Fight for what’s mine.

“I signed up for some classes,” I blurt out.

She frowns a little. “Okay. What kind of classes. Like, how not to be an asshole?”

I laugh, because it’s such a Lucy thing to say.

“Wine classes. Winemaking, wine marketing, wine tasting. Whatever fit into my work schedule.”

She goes a little still. “Thought you hated all that. Thought the only way to learn was eating the dirt, or whatever.”

I smile. “Hands-on is still important. The most important, I’d say. But I’ve…I’ve been thinking about what you said. Thinking about what I want out of my life, and I don’t just want to be the guy drifting through the days from paycheck to paycheck.”

“Okay.” She sets her purse carefully on the floor and crosses her arms. “And what do you want?”

I take a step toward her, gaining courage now. Not because I’m not terrified of the power her one-woman army has over my heart, but because I know the answer to her question with absolute certainty.

I’m tired of being the man who runs. Tired of being that guy who won’t reach for something worthwhile because I’m scared it’ll disappear.

“I don’t know what my future looks like,” I say, my voice low and clear. “Maybe lead winemaker at one of the big names. Maybe it’s my own winery. Hell, maybe I’ll get struck by lightning and realize I like selling the stuff as much as I like making it. Maybe I’ll start my own tasting room, or invent some type of aging barrel, or…”

Lucy laughs a little, and holds up her hand. “Wow. Big plans there, Sullivan.”

“Endgame,” I blurt out.

Her smile fades. “What?”

I step closer now. Her eyes go wary, but my heart surges with hope that she won’t take a step back. “You asked me what my endgame was.”

“And you’ve figured it out?” she asks.

“Not with the job, no, but I’m getting there. Things are starting to feel…clear.”

“Well,” she says, forcing a smile. “I’m glad. You’re meant for great things, I’ve always known that, even if you didn’t.”

“I know,” I say a little roughly. “But the thing is, the endgame you asked me about…my career goals…they’re important. But they’re not most important.”

“They aren’t?” she whispers as my hands reach for her, settling carefully on her waist. Touching her feels so right my knees nearly buckle, and I gain courage.

“I’ve made some mistakes with my life, Lucy. Most of them with you. I’ve hurt you, I let you leave, I left you, I didn’t come after you, I’ve picked on you, I’ve snapped at you…”

“Quite the résumé.” I can tell she’s trying for levity, but her voice cracks.

“Quite. But none of those are what I regret the most.” I rest my forehead on hers and take a deep breath. “What I regret the most is not telling you how I felt about you. I should have told you when I was nineteen. Hell, I should have told you when I was nine.”

Her bottom lip wobbles, and I lift a hand to brush my thumb across her trembling mouth. Suddenly, there’s no fear. No terror. There’s only this moment. Late, but still perfect.

“I love you, Lucy.”

Okay, I may have been premature in my confidence, because saying it out loud is fucking terrifying.

Especially when she doesn’t say a word in response.

Lucy doesn’t even move, and her eyes are shiny with tears, and I can’t read them. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, or what she’s feeling, and I’m about to go to my plan B of get on your knees and beg, when she lets out a broken cry and wraps her arms around my neck.

I go perfectly still, before very slowly closing my arms around her in relief.

Then my eyes close. I am home. Even if this hug is all I get, it’s enough. I’ll make it be enough. At least until I can get better and braver, and demand that she give me more moments just like this one.

“I was coming to see you,” she says against my neck.

I rub a hand along her spine. “Oh yeah?” I touch her hair, my hand trembling a little as I order myself not to rush her. Not to beg her to say what I need to hear. “Must have been in quite the hurry.”

She pulls back and nods, her fingers touching my cheek. “Let’s just say it’s six years overdue.”

“Better late than never?”

Her smile is slow and tender as she goes on her toes to kiss me softly. “You know that you don’t need to take those classes, right? If you want to for you, by all means. But don’t do it for me.”

My heart sinks. This is what she wanted to tell me? I put my heart on the line, and she—

“I love you just as you are. I’ve always loved you.”

My heart starts beating again, but I’m still needy, and I clasp her to me roughly, giving her a little shake. “Again.”

Lucy laughs. “I love you. From the very start. And I never should have left that day. I should have had more faith in you, more faith in us. And the other night, I should have—”

“Let’s make a deal,” I say, cupping her face. “Let’s agree to let all that go. We can learn from those experiences and all that shit, but we deserve a fresh start. We’re more than our mistakes.”