Maybe if Reese had met her a little sooner, or if she could have waited a little longer, he could have been the one to propose marriage. He’d have enough money in his coffers to swoop in and save her. But he had little of value to offer her. He was too broken. Too undeserving. Too weak.

He couldn’t even bring himself to open a few goddamned letters. Couldn’t even fulfill a solemn promise he’d made to a bosom friend.

Lately, Sophie had helped him to feel more human. Like perhaps he was capable of being the man she thought he was. But this latest news had sent him into a backslide. And without her, he’d never recover.

He gripped the arms of his chair, trying to ground himself. She was still there, in his guest bedchamber—at least for now. Dressed in a white nightgown, her hair a golden cloud around her shoulders, she was a vision to behold. But she was more than beautiful. She was kindness, patience, and courage personified.

And sometime in the past month, she’d become the sun that his dark, decaying world revolved around. The sun that had the power to heal him.

Now that their time was about to run out, he couldn’t help but think he’d squandered it. She deserved to know how she’d helped him—and what she meant to him. He wasn’t particularly good with words, but he knew one gesture he could make that might please her.

“Sophie, I want you to know that the tailor’s shop is yours to use for whatever purpose you like, anytime you like, for as long as you like. In fact, I’m happy to draw up papers and sign the property over to you, to make it official.”

She blinked at him, her blue eyes full of emotion and sadness. “That’s incredibly generous of you, but I don’t think I’ll require the use of the shop much longer. Only a few more Friday evenings.”

“I see,” he said, pretending he wasn’t devastated to learn that the one, tenuous connection he’d hoped to maintain with her would soon be severed as well. “I know I promised not to ask about your use of the building, but I have to admit I’m curious. Mostly because whatever it is—I can clearly see that it’s important to you.”

“It is.” She pressed her lips together for a second, then continued slowly—as if choosing her words very carefully. “I’ve been hosting a weekly meeting there. I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, but it’s something I’m passionate about.”

“Are you as passionate about your meeting as you are about gardening?”

She smiled and tilted her head, thoughtful. “Almost.”