But for all that I didn't have, I had plenty of books—piled everywhere, all with little white slips of paper sticking out of them.
Tenleigh brought her hands up over her mouth as she looked around. "Why?" she started and then stopped, looking around some more. "Why are you living like this?" A tear slipped down her cheek.
"Don't cry, Tenleigh." I reached up and swiped the tear with my thumb, brushing it aside. "This is nothing to cry about. It's my choice. And it wasn't going to be forever . . . just until . . ."
"Just until what?" she whispered.
I ran my eyes over her features, her expression filled with sadness. "Just until I could come find you. Just until I left here to find you, and beg you to forgive me. Wherever you were, that's where I was going to go."
She sucked in a big breath and brought her hands over her mouth again. "Oh my God. But I came back." She started to cry. "I came back."
I moved forward and wrapped my arms around her. I felt the wetness of her tears against my bare skin. "Shh, you came back to help kids who grew up just like us. It's a good thing, Ten. It's a heroic thing."
She tipped her head back and looked up at me. "Why didn't you come find me sooner, Ky. Why?"
I shook my head and looked out the window behind her. "Because I made a deal and I couldn't break it. In order to transfer that scholarship to you, I signed a deal. If I broke the deal, you lost your scholarship. Truthfully, I don't know if Edward really would have rescinded it if I quit. But I couldn't risk it."
"What? No," she choked out. "You made a deal to work at the mine?"
I nodded. "I had to. It was the only way Edward Kearney would agree to transfer the scholarship. But it was my choice. I wanted to do it."
Her eyes flared and she pulled her shoulders back. "I wouldn't have let you if I knew." Her face was a study in intensity. Tenleigh. Fierce girl. "I would never have let you go down in that mine for me if I had known. Not in a million years. Never."
"I know, Ten," I said softly. "Don't you think I knew that? But I also knew if you hated me, you'd leave here and wouldn't look back. You wouldn't even have to know."
Her beautiful, expressive eyes were brimming with anguished tears. This girl. "That's why you lied. So I wouldn't stop you. So I wouldn't give up the scholarship to keep you from doing what you planned to do."
I released a hiss of breath. "Maybe it was wrong. I've tried to consider a million different ways I could have done something different, achieved the same result without you getting hurt, but . . . I did the best I could under pressure, without very much time to consider all the possibilities. I couldn't figure out a way to fight for us, and so that was my way of fighting for you. And in the end, you got out of here and earned your degree. And so I can't dwell on it anymore. I can't lie here night after night and torture myself. I made the choice I made and I just hope . . . I hope someday you can forgive me. I'll do anything if you'll just forgive me, Tenleigh. Anything."
"Oh, Kyland." She shook her head back and forth. She was crying outright now and my heart was beating triple time in my chest. She still hadn't told me she forgave me, or that she still loved me. But I was willing to wait. I pulled her to me again and I kissed the top of her head, smiling and repeating her name.
We stood there holding each other for a long time. I breathed in her scent and let my heart rejoice at the feel of her in my arms, willingly and completely. I never dared to dream she'd be in my arms this way again.
"Those slips of paper," she said after a while, "are those for me?"
I looked at a pile of books sitting on the coffee table. "Yes."
"Why?” she asked. "Why did you write them?"
"Because I missed you. Because I didn't have anyone else to talk to, and so I kept talking to you, even though you never answered." I tipped her chin so she was looking into my eyes. "You, Tenleigh, you are the voice in my head when I feel unsure. I still talk to you a hundred times a day. I tell you about things I think you'd like. I . . ." I laughed self-consciously. "Do I sound crazy?"
She laughed and sniffled. "No," she whispered. "Not at all." She paused and nodded her head to a pile of books with notes sticking out of them. "Can I read them?"
I nodded and kissed her forehead. "Yes. Whenever you want."
She looked up at me. "Kyland, you're making a decent salary now. Don't you think you could have at least fixed your roof?"
"Uh . . ." I hedged, glancing around at the pots and pans sitting on the floor everywhere. I had needed a new roof five years ago. The thing was probably about to cave-in for all I knew. "Tenleigh," I stepped back from her and rubbed my hand over the back of my neck, "the thing is, I'm kind of spending most of my paycheck on something. I hope—"
"My mama," she said, looking almost defeated. "You're paying for my mama's hospitalization."
"How'd you know?"
"You just told me."
I let out a small laugh and then grimaced. "Hell, I'm pretty forthcoming today."
Tenleigh smiled a small, weak smile. "Why did you ask Sam to tell Marlo he was paying for it?"
"I hope Marlo's not mad at Sam. He would have paid for it if he could. He tries to offer me money whenever he can, but I won't take it. He really—"