Then I shook my head slowly.
Everything inside me felt tangled.
The apology.
His gratitude.
The way he'd looked at my mother's grave.
The way he'd held me.
None of it made sense beside the Dawson I'd spent weeks believing I knew.
I lowered my eyes for a second before looking back at him. "Let's not do this." My voice came out much quieter than I intended. "I don't think this is a good idea."
The wind stirred gently around us, carrying the faint scent of fresh flowers through the cemetery.
For a brief moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I saw him take one slow step toward me.
Instinctively, I remained where I was.
"I'm trying," he said softly as against his usual cold and demanding voice. "I'm trying to make amends."
He took another step. "I want to make things right."
Those wo
