Page 16 of Cinnamon Cider Whiskey
She tilted her head. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying. “I don’t need your pity.”
He swiped the dampness from her cheeks and pressed his lips against her forehead. “That’s not what this is.” He cupped her face. “I feel your pain as deeply as I felt my mom’s and Tina’s. I watched my mother suffer in silence. You know how much the cruelty of her isolation affected me. I won’t stand on the other side of that door and let you go through this alone.”
“You don’t understand.” She bolted upright, clutching the covers to her chin. “A year after Rosy died, I knew I needed to leave Pete, yet I stayed. I knew better, but for some ridiculous reason, I thought he’d change. Or maybe I thought I could change him.”
“Babe. Don’t do this to yourself.” He fluffed a pillow and leaned against the headboard, knowing she needed a little space. This wasn’t his first rodeo. “My sister didn’t leave her ex at first because she was afraid of what people would think and the fact that she, of all people, shouldknow betterbecause of our dad. Abusers never start out in a relationship with fists.”
“Don’t tell me shit I know.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t need you to be condescending or to remind me of all the pitfalls of what happens to battered women. All I need is to cry it out.”
“I’m not stopping you from doing that. But there’s no point in being alone when there’s someone who cares about you and is willing to hold you until you’re done or fall asleep.”
“Why do you care? I mean, you hated me for years.”
He arched both brows. “What the hell are you talking about?” This was not a response he expected, nor was he sure how to deal with it. “I’ve never hated you.”
“Come on. I cheated on you. Got pregnant. Married someone else, and then you didn’t speak to me for fifteen years until I accidentally called you. And now you all of a sudden give a shit?”
He blew out a puff of air and raked a hand through his unruly hair, which desperately needed a cut.
Her ramble was deflection at its best and he contemplated if he should even give it life. However, they did have their own unresolved issues that he did want to discuss. He figured they’d do it after Pete was back behind bars and her divorce was more than just a filing. But hell, if she wanted to get her mind off the current problem, he’d go there—for her.
“First, you didn’t cheat on me. We’d broken up.”
“That’s a technicality.”
“Maybe so, but let’s not forget that two months before that I was the one who stepped out on you.” He lowered his chin. “I don’t know why you’ve always given me a pass on that.”
She poked him dead center in the chest. “I was pissed as hell and hurt when you did that. But you told me and I forgave you. We did our best to get past it. And let’s not forget, we were also broken up or on a break or whatever when it happened. Not to mention, she was some nameless, faceless girl you met at some party at school. Not someone we both knew. And she didn’t end up pregnant.”
Closing his eyes, he counted to ten.
“I hate it when you do that. It means you’re contemplating saying something I won’t like.”
“I don’t think this is the right time to rehash this.” He blinked.
“Just say it.”
“Fine.” He folded his arms. “The only difference between the two situations outside of you having a child was that you married Pete.” He pressed his finger over her mouth when she opened it. “After I told you I still loved you. That I didn’t care about what happened and that I’d raise that baby with you. I would have done whatever it took to make us work. But you didn’t believe me.”
“You think Pete was ever going to let that happen?” She fell back on the bed. “I thought about having an abortion, but it was too late.”
He rolled to his side, running his finger up and down her arm. “I’m sorry that I abandoned you. I should have fought harder for us.”
“I’m being an asshole,” she mumbled. “I hurt so I want everyone around me to be in as much pain as I’m in.”
“I get it.”
“Sometimes I hate when you’re this understanding. A part of me thinks I married Pete out of spite.”
“I know I moved to Montana and cut off all communication with anyone associated with Whiskey Ranch out of anger and frustration. I thought if I spoke to anyone, I’d ask about you or want to see you, and I was always afraid of what I’d do to Pete.”
“You can be jealous.” She laughed. “Remember Henry McGraw?”
“He was hitting on my girl right in front of me. What did you expect me to do?”
“Not throw your beer in his face.” She rested her cheek on her hands and smiled. “I’m just glad you didn’t hit him.”
“I thought about it.”
