Page 73 of The Devious Husband

He hesitates before pushing off his car and following me in, his gaze searching as he studies my face. “Sierra,” he says when we walk into the living room, and the way he says my name makes me turn to face him. It’s been so long since I heard him say my name like that, like I mean something to him, like I’m not just an inconvenience. “For you.”

I take the cookies from him and stare at them, my heart aching. It’s clear he’s trying to be there for me, but it feels like too little, too late. “Xavier,” I say, my voice lacking the usual affection I used to say his name with. I’ve never felt so tired, so filled with regret. I wish we’d never gotten married, never fallen in love. At least then, I’d still have had our rivalry to distract me from my grief.

He steps forward, his movements hesitant as he brushes my hair out of my face. He’d stopped touching me like that, and there was a time when I’d wondered how long I’d have to wait to regain that kind of intimacy, but I’ve learned the hard way that the passing of time is cruel, and that the moments we experience are truly one of a kind. What’s lost can’t be regained, it can only be replicated, each new moment never quite the same, never quite enough.

I step away, and he pulls his hand to his chest, resignation and regret crossing his face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft, placating.

I look down and glance at the folder on my coffee table, my heart heavy as I hand it to him. “Let’s put an end to this.”

His hands tremble as he opens the folder and stares at the divorce papers, disbelief flickering in his eyes as he lifts his head and looks at me. “What?”

“You once told me that I shouldn’t lower my standards just because you failed to meet them, and I’m finally taking your words to heart. I’m done expecting better from someone who is more attached to his fears and insecurities than to me. You made me fall for you, only to push me away and show me that my love isn’t worth showing up for, isn’t worth fighting for. You built me up, only to shake the foundations I thought we had, and you didn’t even have the decency to watch me fall apart. Even so, I was convinced that you’d snap out of it, that you’d realize that what we have is worth everything — every risk, every nightmare you had to endure just to wake up to me. I was certain, Xavier, because all along, I was willing to risk dying if that’s what it took to be with you.”

Xavier drops the papers, and I watch them scatter on the floor as he reaches for me, his touch gentle as he cups my face. “You’re right,” he says, his voice soft. “I failed you, Sierra. I vowed to stand by you, for better or worse, but I ran when things got tough. I shut you out, undoing all the hard work we’d accomplished together, hurting you over and over again when all I’ve ever wanted to do was love you. I don’t deny it, Sierra, nor will I make excuses. You deserve better than that. But I swear to you, I’m done running. Please?—”

“—it’s too late,” I tell him, not wanting to hear his excuses, his empty promises. “I refuse to be with someone who isn’t willing to heal from the scars left behind by his past. You’re right, Xavier. I deserve better.”

His eyes flash with pain, and he steps closer, until his body is flush against mine. “Then I’ll be better,” he tells me, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not signing those papers. I’m never letting you go, Sierra. I’m going to show you that you’re worth fighting for, and I’m going to do everything in my power to earn your forgiveness. I’ll try, day in and day out, for a million years and a day if I need to.”

Sixty-Five

Sierra

I raise a brow when I pull up at my house after a meeting that ran far later than I expected and find two cars parked in front — Xavier’s, as usual, and his parents’ town limousine.

Xavier pushes off the hood of his car, his expression stormy as he reaches for my car door and opens it for me, like he’s done every single day for three weeks straight. “Hi, Kitten,” he says, smiling, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes today. “You look beautiful.” His eyes roam over my red dress hungrily, and I try my best to ignore the way my heart has started to respond to him again.

“You look like you still haven’t signed the papers.”

He sighs, longing radiating off him as he hands me a bag. “I made you sugar cookies today. Decorated them too. I hope you like them.”

I reluctantly take the cookies and step away from him, acutely aware that we seem to have an audience. I’ve only just turned my back to him when the limousine’s door opens, and I look over my shoulder to find all three of Xavier’s brothers, Valeria, and his parents step out.

“Sierra!” Valeria says, smiling as she rushes up to me and hugs me tightly, making me stumble back. Zach musses up my hair, Hunter kisses my cheek, and Elijah offers me a quick hug, all four of them pretending Xavier isn’t standing right there, watching them.

“Hi, honey,” Mom says as she hands Dad what appears to be a grocery bag before she hugs me tightly, her arm wrapping around my shoulders as she pulls me toward the front door. Dad at least acknowledges Xavier’s presence with a grumble before he walks past him, and they all leave him standing there.

“What are you all doing here?” I ask, confused as I let them in. The boys instantly begin to mess with the robot Lex gave me, asking it to show them to the kitchen.

Dad gasps when my robot, Lola, takes the grocery bag from him and wheels forward with it. “What kind of abomination is that?” he asks, and I bite back a smile at the sheer horror on his face.

“We’re here to cook you dinner,” Valeria explains.

“Yeah,” Hunter says, looking over his shoulder. “You haven’t come home in a while, so we weren’t sure if maybe your car was broken or something.”

“You didn’t call, that’s for sure. Had to check if your phone plan was still active, and it is, so I’m not sure what that’s all about,” Elijah adds.

Zach just chuckles and throws me a sweet smile. “We all missed you,” he says as he helps Dad unpack the groceries they brought, before they all wash their hands and start to divide tasks, while I just look around in shock.

“We’re making one of your favorites — Cacio e Pepe,” Mom explains.

Zach begins to grate Pecorino, while Elijah tackles the Parmigiana. Dad gathers ingredients to make fresh pasta with, Hunter begins to chop salad ingredients, and Mom appears to have started making Parmigiana di Melanzane, another one of my favorites. Valeria, on the other hand, just holds up a bottle of red wine that I happen to really love, and she grins at me as she pours glasses for me, Mom, and herself.

“How have you been?” she asks as she lifts herself onto my kitchen counter, like she usually does.

I swirl my wine and stare at my glass for a few moments. “I don’t know,” I admit. Grief comes and goes in waves, and I often forget my grandmother isn’t here anymore, until I pick up my phone to call her, or I begin to get ready for our weekly family dinner, only to get to her house and find my family sitting together quietly, none of us willing to let go of the tradition. They haven’t said a thing about Xavier’s absence, but they know he’s been waiting in front of my house every single night, forgoing every other commitment for it, including, apparently, poker night.

I was so sure that I wanted a divorce when I had the papers drawn up, convinced Xavier didn’t love me the way he claimed he did. I felt like I’d been going crazy, like my memories of us just weren’t quite right, because I struggled to reconcile the man that had distanced himself from me with the man I’d fallen in love with. I’d been certain Xavier would sign the papers in a heartbeat, that he’d just been staying with me for my grandmother’s sake, but he’s still here, he’s still showing up weeks later. Every single night, he waits for hours, never leaving until my bedroom lights turn off. I don’t know what to make of him, and I can feel myself being swayed.

---