Page 47 of Kiss From A Rose

"My mother was hateful toward her. The first two years were rough, but then Rose started to," I could barely get the word out, "conform."

I'd left my sweet, innocent, loving wife in the hands of my mother who even I was afraid of then—because I was a coward. For all that Southern strong-man talk and bullshit, I was a loser who'd let his wife deal with his mother, who didn't know how to love or even care for another human.

"Tell me what's going through you right now?" Dr. Ogle demanded.

I looked up at him, my cheeks wet with tears. "I hate myself."

"Why?"

"Because I abandoned my wife. Because I forced her tofitin, meetmyneeds but never ever asked her, even once what she needed."

Whenever we argued, I’d snap at her,“I married you, didn't I? What the hell else more could you want?”Like I had done her the ultimate favor by making her my wife.

"Why, Gray? You're a decent man. You love your children, and you care for them. You have a genuine and authentic relationship with them. You have one with your brother. What was it about Rose that prevented you from—"

"I feel guilty," I burst out. "Okay? And Iamguilty. I knew what was happening to her, but I felt she deserved it. She got pregnant and married me; this was the price to pay."

"Did you pay a price?"

I shook my head. "I fell into gold. I had the best wife a man could ask for. My kids had a supportive mother who pushed them to do better but never by hurting them or insulting themlike my parents had. She was there forme. Not just in bed buteverywhere. She's my best friend, Doc,butI'm not hers."

Dr. Ogle pushed the box of tissues toward me and the cliché of it all—of crying in a therapist's office made me want to laugh. I didn't feel embarrassed. No, I felt…fucking hell, I felt lighter.

"I left her to take care of herself because I didn't know how to make her happy, and I didn't want to learn either. It was easier to avoid her, avoid our problems than to admit I had failed her as a husband," I admitted, the weight of the words sinking like stones in my stomach.

Dr. Ogle wrote something down in his notes before looking up again. "Avoidance, that's your go-to move when shit gets real. You did it with your folks, you're doing it with Rose, and I bet it's how you dance around every relationship in your life. But here's the rub—dodge enough bullets and you'll find yourself alone in a war zone. If you want any shot at saving things with Rose, you've got to flip the script. Face the music, spill your guts, and for once, shut up and really listen to what she's saying. No more running, no more hiding. It's time to show up."

“How do I make her happy again?” I asked, the desperation clear in my voice. “How do I win her back?”

"Now, Gray, it’s obvious that you're a goal-oriented man, and you want to get to your destination andwinyour woman back," he said with a small smile. "But you have to change your mindset. You cannot make Rose happy. Only she can make herself happy—you have to make sure you're not causing her any pain so she can get there. There is no quick fix."

"I was afraid of that," I joked sadly.

"Gray, it's not like all twenty years of your marriage have been bad. Have they?"

I shook my head, and then shrugged. "Not for me but for Rose? I don't know."

"From what I can see, and granted this is our first session, there've been good times and bad. More good than bad until, I suspect, your children left. You became empty nesters and didn't do the work needed to maintain your relationship. Your children instinctively saw the rift between you two and took sides."

I crushed the used tissues in my hand. What had taken years to break wouldn't be repaired in a few days. I knew that. I didn't like it, but for this to work, Rose and I both needed to truly want to fix our marriage. I didn't know what I'd do if she didn't.

"It starts with understanding her needs, her desires, and her wants," Dr. Ogle continued. "It's about rebuilding trust and showing her that you're committed. The truth is, you can't make your wife happy, and she can't make you happy. Happiness comes from within us. What you need to focus on is learning to listen to each other, to truly hear and understand each other's needs, and work together to meet them."

CHAPTER 17

Rose

Icould hardly contain my excitement that Willow and Mike would be at Angel's Rest in less than twenty-four hours. The anticipation of their arrival filled me with a burst of energy, which I channeled into transforming the B&B into a festive wonderland.

It was the first Christmas I would spend with Malou and with just one of my children. It was also probably Malou's last Christmas. I wanted it to be as special and memorable as possible for all of us. I didn't want to ever look back and regret not having done all of this for Malou to make her last days as good as possible.

Every corner of the B&B sparkled with the spirit of the season. Lilah and I had draped garlands of silvery pine over the mantelpiece in the main lounge, each needle glistening under the warm glow of fairy lights. Red and gold baubles hung from the garlands, reflecting the dancing flames of the fireplace. Thescent of cinnamon and clove permeated the air, thanks to a batch of spiced cookies baking in the oven.

The large Christmas tree stood proudly by the bay window of the spacious living room; its branches weighed down with twinkling lights and an eclectic mix of ornaments collected over the years by Malou. At the top, a silver star caught the light, sending soft reflections across the room.

Outside, thanks to Edgar, white lights lined the edges of the roof and windows, turning the B&B into a beacon of warmth and cheer in the winter darkness. Edgar had set up outdoor heaters, and I'd put plush throws on the wraparound porch, where I envisioned Willow, Malou, and me sipping hot cocoa under the starry night.

In Malou's room, I went nuts with a tree just for her, all wrapped up in soft blue lights, her favorite color, and adorned with snowflake ornaments. I placed it beside the fireplace, where the flicker of the firelight could dance softly across the reflective surfaces, casting a tranquil glow throughout the room. It felt like a fitting tribute, a cozy corner where warmth and cherished memories could intertwine peacefully.

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