She gave him a wry grin. “I seem to recall mentioning I’d had a bad day.”

A bad— He closed his eyes in a long blink. “Sophie, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you stop me, why didn’t you—?”

“What for, Aiden?” She lifted a shoulder, looking hopeless in the golden glow of the candlelight. “You were leaving. Nothing was going to stop you, least of all me.”

He opened his mouth to say it wasn’t true. But then he recalled his mindset that day. The euphoria. The way Ross’s offer had made him feel wanted and needed.

And despite the ache of disappointment that welled up at his own selfishness, she was right. It gutted him now to think of Sophie sitting on that porch swing, hearing him tell her he was leaving right after her father had deserted them. “I am so sorry. I feel like a total jerk.”

“You didn’t know.”

A heavy weight settled inside him at what he’d done to someone he’d supposedly loved.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, a humorless laugh escaping. “No wonder you hate me so much.”

And here he’d thought a sincere apology would fix everything. But Aiden knew what it felt like to be abandoned. He barely even remembered his mom, but her departure had left scars that ran so deep they were untouchable.

“I don’t hate you.” He barely heard her words over the storm. “You obviously didn’t feel the same way about me that I felt about you. I guess you couldn’t help that.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “But I did, Sophie. I loved you like crazy. What we had was special.”

“It’s okay, Aiden. You don’t have to spare my feelings.”

“It’s the truth. After I left I thought about you every day. I missed you. And while, yes, the business eventually became a success and I loved what I was doing . . . a part of me felt empty without you.” Still did. But she wouldn’t believe him even if he told her—and he probably shouldn’t, as he was sort of dating someone else.

“You were my person, Soph. The one I went to when things were falling apart or when they were going great, and I needed someone to be happy for me. You were my biggest cheerleader. Remember when I got a C in algebra, and my dad was disappointed even though I’d done my best? You gave me a hug and said you were proud of me. You told me I was smart. Nobody had ever told me that before.” Even now, the memory of that moment made his throat thicken.

“You are smart,” she said softly.

The corner of his lip turned up. “See what I mean? You always saw the best in me.”