Because she’d promised him an end to this, and she wasn’t about to renege. He might have given her faith tonight that maybe someone could love her despite her challenges, but that didn’t mean him. Tucker had spent three years of his life propping her up, being there for her in dozens of different ways, and she loved him too much to lumber him with her forever.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t strong enough right now to deny him something she also craved a little too much. She’d find that strength tomorrow.

“Okay,” she said around the huge lump in her throat. He smiled at her, and Della didn’t think her heart could possibly get any bigger, any fuller. Her ribs already felt stretched to capacity.

“C’mon,” he whispered, his lips brushing her forehead. “Lie down.” Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he eased them gently back.

Della settled on her side again. Pushing her hair behind her, she snuggled her head into the crook of his neck, his whiskers scratching her forehead. His fingers trailed slowly over the flat of her shoulder blade, goose bumps following in their wake. Silence settled over them—and not the kind of silence that made her nervous, made her want to fill it up, like in those early days with Selena. But the kind of silence two people who knew each other well didn’t need to fill up.

Still, part of her felt she owed him an explanation for her meltdown. He hadn’t asked, and she assumed he wouldn’t, because Tucker Daniels was that kind of guy, but, surprisingly, the thought of telling him what had happened to her didn’t break her out in a cold sweat.

To date, only Arlo, Selena, and the police who took her original statement knew the full story. Thankfully, Todd had pleaded guilty, and she’d been spared exposure to a courtroom full of strangers. The fact she wanted to open up to Tucker told her a lot about the depths of her feelings for this man.

“I wasn’t always like this, you know?” Her voice was low and husky as her fingers absently caressed the sweet curve of a pec.

His drugging caress halted for a beat or two before resuming. “Yes. I…figured.”

“Todd…he used to…he forced me to—”

“It’s okay.” His hasty assurance cut her off abruptly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know. But I feel like you deserve an explanation, and—”

“No.” His hand stopped and didn’t resume the caress this time. The ropey muscles of his neck seemed to tense. “You really don’t have to explain anything.”