“It did. She apologized later, but the words stung. Because that’s my deepest fear, you know? That I wasn’t enough. That no matter how hard I tried, I failed because there’s something wrong with me. It was my fault, and now the kids have to suffer for it.”

“There is nothing wrong with you, and the divorce was not your fault.” Henry’s tone was fierce. “You were married to someone who didn’t appreciate what he had.”

“Thank you.” I dropped a kiss on his thick, masculine wrist. I loved his hands, his long elegant fingers, the veins that ran up his arms. “Mentally, I know you’re right, but my insecurity sometimes creeps up on me. I’m working on it, but there’s a lot of bad stuff that’s accumulated over the last few years to work through.”

Henry was silent for a moment. And then, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Earlier tonight, when we were in the hallway, you said something.”

I smiled. “I said a lot of things.”

“This was something you said, uh, during.”

“During? I wasn’t even aware I could talk during.”

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath my back. “You said a few words here and there.”

“I might have. But your words were better.” I shivered recalling the hot, dirty things he’d said.

“Are you cold?” He sat up and reached for the faucet, which was freestanding and placed to the right of the clawfoot tub. “I can add some more hot water. We’ve been in here a while.”

“We have, but I’m not cold. I just like the memory of what you said.” I looked at him over my shoulder. “It was an excited shiver, not a cold shiver. It was a wiggle.”

He laughed, looking boyish and adorable with his spiky damp hair sticking up. It looked darker when it was wet, making his eyes look deeper green. “Okay.”

“So what was it I said?”

“You said, ‘Don’t give up.’ It was right before—”

“Oh.” I felt heat in my cheeks. “I know when it was.”

“What was that about?”

I hesitated, my eyes dropping to our legs beneath the water, his hairy ones outside my much paler, smooth ones. My red toenail polish popped against the white porcelain enamel finish. It was a beautiful cast iron tub, like something out of a Victorian movie set. I couldn’t believe it when Henry told me no one had ever used it. When I asked why, he said he’d bought it to surprise Renee, an effort to help her relax, but she’d moved out before it had even been delivered. He’d installed it anyway, but since he was not a bath kind of guy, it had never gotten used. I’d been more than happy to christen it tonight.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Henry went on.