“Harper, I’m sure you have already worked out that Forrest is a complex man. He carries weight on his shoulders that has molded him into the man he is. I don’t know him very well, but from my interactions with him, I’d say he feels a need to protect people. He was misguided thinking I needed that from him. But he was wrong. The pull toward me had nothing to do with lust or feelings. My guess is, watching from the outside, that he has spent most of his life taking care of his parents and Flynn at times, and then all the guys once they were in business together. So, when everyone else was settling into relationships and didn’t need him as much, he was adrift. He felt he had lost his purpose of being there for everyone and was on his own. You were flirting with him, and he wanted you and couldn’t deny his feelings but knew you didn’t want him the same way, so I was someone he could focus his energy on. But from the outside, I could see what was happening, and although it took a few heated discussions, he finally got it through his thick head that I was not who he needed.” Cherie looks at me, waiting for her words to sink in.

“So, I’m just the next person who needs saving?” My heart is spiraling, and I’m now kicking myself for even talking to her. This was a mistake. I start to move away from her, but Cherie steps in front of me.

“No, you’ve got that so wrong. You are saving him from himself. I doubt that man has ever let anyone in behind his walls, yet here he is organizing a surprise fortieth birthday for you and is the most relaxed I have ever seen him since the first night I met him. He knows you don’t need saving. Yes, he is protective of you against the current threat, as any man would be for the woman he cares about, but it’s not in the way your mind is telling you. Just take a deep breath and think about it. Have you had any big, deep, and meaningful discussions since you moved in with him?” Why am I starting to feel like I’m in a therapy session with Cherie?

“I’ve opened up to him more than I could’ve ever imagined with a man,” I admit, thinking to myself that she’s right.

“And has he done the same?” Her voice is soft and reassuring but a tone that for some reason I can’t stop from answering whatever she asks.

“Yes. Things I doubt he has ever shared with anyone else.” And the more she has me talking, the more things are falling into place in my head.