Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Still, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find the words to string together that would explain the why’s of the past. Probably because there was no real explanation. At least, none that made sense to a sane person.
“I don’t know,” I said, like a coward.
“Then how the hell am I supposed to know?” she shot back, her body shaking with anger. “The past happened, Truett. No kiss in the entire fucking world will fix that. And now, I’m just expected to, what? Get over it? Jump back into your arms? Welcome you back into my life?”
I stared at her, my silence enraging her all over again.
“You know what. This was a bad idea. You should go.” She turned on a toe, marching through the dining room, straight toward her office.
I stood there like an idiot, watching her go. It was the day she’d left me all over again. That day in my house, when she’d dropped her rings on the floor and I’d let her leave without one single ounce of explanation. My legs hadn’t moved that day. My mouth failing to fight. My mind telling me lies.
I’d be damned if I made that mistake again.
With long strides, I followed after her. That damn office was the size of a shoebox, only big enough for a few filing cabinets, a desk, and a rolling chair. But as I stepped inside, it felt infinitely smaller as the distance between us, measured in mere inches, charged the air.
“I’m sorry,” I told her back.
She whipped around, ready to tear into me for offering yet another hollow apology, but I looped an arm around her hips and tugged her off-balance. She collided with my front, her hands landing on my chest, anger still blazing in her eyes.
I didn’t let her get a word out before finishing with, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you back then. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed me to be. I’m sorry I gave up on our family. And I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder, because I have missed you every fucking day since you walked out of my life. That is what I mean when I say I’m sorry.”
She clamped her mouth shut, her gaze darting around my face as she tried to process what I was saying. I’d only had her back—if you could call it that—for a few weeks, but the fear of losing her again gnawed at me relentlessly. It was finally enough to break through the deepest recesses of my mind, where I kept the truth locked away, shackled and imprisoned to prevent it from stripping me bare.
“I didn’t hurt as much when I was with you,” I confessed. My voice was barely above a rasp, yet it was all I could manage. Saying the words aloud, to her, was as painful as it was a welcome relief.
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
“Back then… I hated myself. I didn’t deserve to feel better. But when I’m with you, even now, I can breathe. I don’t know what it is, but something about you has always softened the agony, making it so I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.”
She blinked, pursing her lips. Her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Let me make sure I’ve got this right. I made you feel better, so you thought the best thing to do was divorce me?”
I knew how it sounded. The age-old copout—“It’s not you, it’s me”—given to placate a breaking heart. But it was the God’s honest truth.
“After the mall—”
“No!” she snapped, slapping a hand over my mouth. “Don’t you dare try to use that as an excuse. You were gone long before the mall.”
Her chest heaved and her face was full of rage.
But.
She.
Didn’t.
Back away.
That had to mean something. She could hate me all she wanted—it was a sentiment we shared. But she was still with me, though I feared my time was running out.
I gathered her tighter in my arms, shifting her so our bodies were flush head to toe. “I felt like I was a fraud taking comfort from you. Your brother had just died, something I’d caused.”
“You didn’t cause it,” she argued. “Stop acting like you drove that car into the building. Nate knew what he was signing up for. He was proud to put on that uniform. He was proud to serve beside you.”
I shook my head. “I missed the cell phone, Gwen. They’d been watching us for days, and I missed it.”
“And he missed it too,” she seethed. “They all missed it, Truett. You weren’t standing in that building alone.”
“I know… I mean, I know it now. I was the only one who survived. There was no one else to blame.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You think they would have blamed you…for surviving? They loved you too, you know. Especially Nathanial.”