“I wish I’d known him. My real father.” Della drew circles around Tucker’s left nipple. “I know he cheated on his wife with my mom, and Arlo is still pretty pissed at him about that, but I’ve seen the family photos. They looked happy, and there’s a lot of affection in Arlo’s voice when he talks about his dad.”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess he…had his flaws, but from my perspective he was a good man. He wasn’t around much because he traveled a lot, but he had this way about him that made you feel like what you said was important. That your contribution to a conversation was important and he respected it.”

A tiny spike of jealousy pricked at Della’s heart. How wonderful would that have been? “Well…flaws or not, he sounds way better than mine. And Todd’s. God…Todd never stood a chance.”

Tucker moved his head to the side and angled it slightly. As he looked down his nose, his gaze found hers and held. “You sound like you’ve forgiven him.”

Della raised herself up on her elbow. His words had been deceptively relaxed, but his jaw was tight. “No.” She shook her head, her hair brushing her bare shoulders as she ran the pad of her index finger along his bottom lip. “I’ll never forgive him for what he did, and I’m not sorry he went to prison. Or that he’s dead.”

The prospect of Todd getting out one day had been like a yoke around her neck those first few months in Credence. It had her jumping at every noise, every shadow. His death had been the first hurdle she’d knocked over in her long road to recovery.

“But if three years of therapy has taught me anything,” she continued, “it’s that parents can really screw you up. So no, I can’t forgive, but I can see how people like Todd are made.”

Tucker slid his hand along her cheek, pushing his fingers into her hair, cupping her face. He gave her a half smile. “You’re a remarkable woman, Della Munroe.”

Della’s heart grew a little more in her chest. People like Selena and Arlo had been telling her that for three years. Hearing it from the man she loved, though, as he gazed at her with awe and respect, seeped right into her marrow.

But right now, she was done talking about the past. Right now, she desperately needed to affirm that she’d come through the other end and she was doing okay. That she was capable of feeling again, of loving again. Even if it could never be.

“You’re remarkable.” She smiled as she ran her finger down his chin and his throat and lower still. “Now…do you think you’re sufficiently recovered to—” Her finger stopped just above the line of his pubic hair. “Go again?”