He looks up and then stands. "Hey. How's your mom?"

"What're you still doing here?" I don't mean to sound so ungrateful, but…he waited for me. Why would he do that when earlier he said he didn't know if he could forgive me?

"I was worried about you." He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away as if he's embarrassed.

My heart melts at his admission, and the floodgates that are my tear ducts burst open. Again.

"Belle." He wraps ...