No he cared for her deeply. The kind of care that made a man like Jerry, stubborn and proud, plead with someone like Rebecca to be gentle. If it had been anyone else, Jerry would have crossed his arms and watched from the sidelines. But now? He was worried. He was nervous. He was protective. That was enough proof.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair slowly and took a deep breath. Her eyes lowered, and for the first time that evening, her shoulders relaxed. She wasn't smiling, but she was calm—settled in thought. His words had reached her.
"I see now," she said softly, more to herself than to him.
She lifted her eyes to him again, and there wasn't any sarcasm or bitterness in her gaze. There was something warmer. Something… accepting.
"You really do like her," she said aloud this time.
Jerry didn't respond immediately, but the look on his face—subtle, vulnerable—was enough.
