Page 89 of First Comes Marriage

“I probably can’t hold the baby for a few weeks, huh? Stupid stitches.”

“I’ll hold the baby and sit next to you, and you can still wrap your arms around him.”

“You’re going to be the best uncle,” she sighed, picturing Sebastian with a baby in his arms.

He chuckled. “I’ve got some competition.”

He came back into view with a glass of water for her, which he set on the coffee table before taking a seat next to her on the couch. He pulled her feet into his lap, peeled off her hospital socks—oops, she hadn’t meant to wear those home—and began lazily massaging her feet. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore. But much better.” She sank down further into the couch, giving him more of her calves in his lap. “Can we talk now?”

“Are you still on pain killers?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Tylenol. A shit ton of it, but still.”

“Are you sure you’re up for this tonight? We can wait until after you’ve had a good night’s sleep, or—”

“Oh my God, will you talk to me already! The longer you make me wait, the more nervous you’re making me.”

“I’m making you nervous?” He seemed genuinely flabbergasted by the idea, and she couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief.

“Yes! What’s with all the build up?” When he didn’t answer right away, a wisp of anxiety curled in Sabrina’s stomach. “Whatever it is, say it.”

His face had gone hard, lips pressed together, jaw clenched, as he seemed to sort through his thoughts. She slid her feet out of his lap as that wisp was fanned to a plume, but he gripped her ankle, hard, and pulled them back towards himself.

At last, he turned that too-serious face towards her, his eyebrows crinkling in concentration. “I’m sorry.”

Her stomach sank. “Oh.” Was this his way of telling her he was ready to get divorced? Was that why he didn’t want to have this conversation while she was still in the hospital, because he was planning on breaking her heart?

“Wait, what’s that look?” he asked.

“What look?”

He circled one finger in the air in the direction of her face. “This look. You look like someone killed your cat.”

“I don’t have a cat.”

“Sabrina.”

She took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. “There. No more look.”

He looked skeptical but he took a deep breath of his own and picked up where he’d left off. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted the other day.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’snotokay. I was angry and hurt, but instead of saying that, I hurt you too. And that wasn’t fair.” He tilted his head down to meet her eyes, looking up at her through his eyelashes. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but I’m going to try to be better.”

Again? Better?Those don’t sound like break up words.“Wait, what?”

“I’m not great at talking about my feelings. In case you haven’t noticed. And when someone hurts me, my first instinct is to cut that person off. But I don’t want to cut you off, Sabrina. Even when I was mad, even right after I left you at Ethan’s, I knew I was being an asshole. I knew I couldn’t cut you off. I’m sorry. I’m probably going to fuck it up a bunch of times before I get it right, but I want to do better. I’m going to do better. Can you forgive me?”

His words sank in, and it was like she was coming out of a fog. For a minute she wondered if she had messed up and taken a stronger painkiller by mistake. “So you’re not asking me for a divorce?”

“What? No!” His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Why? Do you want a divorce?”

“No! I thoughtyoudid!”

“Well, I don’t!”

---