Page 114 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
He winces. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, honey. Except, you kind of did.” I settle my hand on his chest, above his beating heart. “But your friends found partners who give and take, who make it work, who don’t need their husbands to manage their emotions because they miss them. And maybe the Courtney of old and I have some things in common, but I’m not her. I’ve spent too much time alone, too much time without you to allow myself to be.”
“Red,” he whispers.
His expression makes my heart ache, but I press on. “So, newsflash Gray Roberts, neither of us are doing this shit anymore. I don’t accept that you’re solely responsible for Courtney’s nonsense, same as I know you don’t accept that sometimes I feel like it’s better to be alone.”
He scowls. “I don’t accept that.”
“Exactly,” I snap. “Yes, sometimes I want to hide and sink back into being alone because it feels safer, because it means I won’t have to live without you if it ever goes wrong between us.” I lift a hand when he starts to interrupt. “But I spent too long being alone, too long being scared that if I wasn’t, I might lose another person I care about.”
“Red,” he murmurs, face gentling.
“I don’t want to lose you, to lose Luna and Kailey and the others, but I also don’t want to give up on the beauty of what we can have now—even if someday it may all go away.”
“Fuck, baby.” He takes a step toward me, stops. “Let me hold you?”
My lungs seize.
Then relief pours through me.
I nod…and an instant later, his arms are around me, his big body holding me close. “I was an asshole.”
“Yes, you were.”
A rough chuckle. “I’m so damned sorry, Red.”
My eyes burn and I nod against his chest. “Good. Because I love you and I think you love me too—and I don’t love a man who’d turn me into something I don’t want to be. I love the man who’s given me the strength to be better, stronger, more confident. And you—” I blow out a breath because my throat has suddenly gone tight. “You love a woman who does the same for you. I love you, Gray Roberts.” I lean back, hold his gaze. “Just as you are.”
He closes his eyes for a long moment.
Then exhales and opens them. “Fuck, Red. How is it you make so much sense?”
“Because I’m smart?” I say, going for light, knowing we both need it right now. But it’s hard because my heart is pounding and relief is a tsunami through my veins. “No more shitting on ourselves,” I go on. “And if we catch each other doing it we’ll…we’ll cut off the other person from the banana bread stash,” I finish in a rush.
He freezes.
Then bursts out laughing and after the last hour, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Eventually, though, he sobers, taking my face in his hands. “I won’t hurt you again.” Piercing emerald eyes holding mine. “I swear.”
“I know,” I whisper.
I feel that promise in my heart, my soul.
“Thank you,” he whispers back. “For believing me. For trusting me.”
“Always.” It’s not even in question.
“Thank you,” he repeats then tugs me against him again and holds me so tight I can hardly breathe.
But that’s okay.
Because I’m exactly where I want to be.
Especially when he draws me back to bed, tucks me close, and murmurs, “I love you, just as you are, too.”
Thirty-Seven
