Page 54 of Savage Love

“Just a job. Protecting a shipment that Diego planned to hit. Connor and Liam let me go out there with Jacob and their guys.”

“Letyou? So you asked to?”

“Elena, this is myjob—”

“No, it’s not.” I press the gauze down on his thigh, feeling too frustrated and full of a cascading torrent of emotions from last night and today to be as careful with my words as I normally would be. “Your job is working for Viktor. This is you trying toprotectme, when what I actually need is you here with me.Here, not showing up in the middle of the night bleeding, because you helped with ashipment. That’s not what you should be doing.” I wrap the bandage around the gauze, trying to summon the strength to say what I want to.

I look up at him as I finish, my hand still resting on his thigh. “I need you here, Levin.”

And then, before I can tell myself why it’s such a bad idea, I lean up to try to kiss him. I can’tnot, because I love him, and he came back home in the middle of the night hurt, reminding me how easily I could lose him, if things keep going the way they are.

It’s just supposed to be a small kiss. Something that any wife would give her husband without thinking. But he stops me, with a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back as he stands up and moves away from me.

It feels like I’m the one who’s physically wounded. I stop, my heart lurching in my chest and tears instantly burning at the back of my eyes as I look at him, feeling rejected all over again. It hasn’t felt this bad since the morning after our wedding, and I stare at him, trying to understand.

“What changed?” I ask him softly, the words slipping out half-choked. “Do you blame me for the scare with the baby? Is that what’s going on?”

Levin turns to face me, startled. “What?”

“Is that why you’ve been different since this morning?”

“I—” He pauses, looking at me with something very close to confusion. “How could you possibly think that, Elena? Of course, I don’t blame you. It couldn’t possibly be your fault, and I wouldn’t blame you regardless, no matter what. I know you would never purposefully—”

“Then why?”

“Why, what?” He leans back against the counter, favoring his injured leg. “I don’t understand.”

I can’t tell, from the look on his face, if he means it or not. If hereallydoesn’t understand, or if he’s claiming not to, so this conversation can be over more quickly. I’ve never thought of Levin as being someone who would hide things from me intentionally or deceive me. Still, after how quickly I saw things change this morning, after he left on a job tonight without telling me, I’m no longer entirely sure.

“You were different this morning. Closed off. You were—” I struggle with trying to think of how to explain it. “You were so distant. And I thought—”

“Elena.” Levin rubs a hand over his hair. “I warned you before we were married that I’m not going to be able to be the kind of husband you want. I’m not saying it can’t be difficult for you, or that your feelings aren’t valid because of that, but this shouldn’t be a surprise. If I’m distant, then—”

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” I whisper, feeling the emotion rising up and clogging my throat despite myself. “These last few weeks, you’ve—” I suck in a breath, trying to keep myself under control. I don’t want to burst into tears. I want tounderstand. “You’ve been bringing me flowers. Taking me out. Helping around the house. Cooking fuckingbreakfast—all these things that were so sweet, and thoughtful, and—”

“Elena.” Levin lets out a slow breath. “I want you to be happy. I just can’t be the one to make you happy. I do those things because it cheers you up. Because it makes you smile when I show up with flowers, or I tell you to dress up because I’m taking you out to dinner. Because it makes you laugh when I fuck up pancakes, and you appreciate it when I tell you to relax because I’ll do the dishes and order takeout. I’mtryingto figure out how to live in the same house with someone—how to get to know them and share a life with them—while still keeping that distance. I don’t want to make you miserable. God fucking knows I don’t want to be the reason for that. So I’m doing my best to do the things that will keep you from feeling that way.”

“Not because you want to?” I swallow hard. “That’sworse, Levin. If you’re just pretending, just doing those things out of some sense of obligation—like you’re reading out of a fuckingmanualofKeeping Your Wife Happy for Dummies—do you not see how that’s worse?”

“No! Christ—fuck—” Levin rubs his hand through his hair again, looking as frustrated as I’ve ever seen him. “I do want to do those things, Elena. Ilikespending time with you. I like going out with you. I like seeing you smile. I dothingsand bring youthingsbecausetheymake you happy, when I can’t. Doesn’t that make sense?”

I stare at him, and I wonder how someone can so clearly seem to feel one thing and be so completely in the dark about it. I don’t want to let myself believe that he does feel it, because if he doesn’t, and I’m wrong, it will hurt so fucking bad that I’m not sure I’ll make it through that kind of crushing blow. But what he’s saying, with the sincerity in his voice, sounds an awful fucking lot like someone whodoeslove me, and just somehow can’t see that actions can say it just as clearly as speaking the words.

That telling himself he doesn’t love me doesn’t make it true, if all the other signs point that way.

“Don’t you see?” I ask him, frustration edging into my own tone. “Youaremaking me happy, Levin. You can say you don’t love me and can’t be a good husband all you want, but what you’re doing shows otherwise. Youarebeing a good husband, by wanting to make me happy. By doing these things. You don’t do all of that for someone you don’t love—”

“I care about you, Elena—”

“Oh mygod.” I stare at him, my own hands tightening into fists as I try not to burst into frustrated tears. “I’ve never known a man so capable who’s also so blind when it comes to himself! Unless you’re lying to me or faking all of this somehow—which you say you aren’t—then you’re genuinely trying to make me happy, genuinely enjoying being with me, genuinelywantme, and all of that points tolove, Levin! Even if you’re not in love with me now, it’s headed in that direction, and I don’t know why you can’t see it! Why you don’t see that caring enough about someone to try to build a life with them even when you aren’t sure if it’s what you want doesn’t fall into that category, too!”

I let out a long breath, the words trailing off, and I stare at him helplessly. “You’re a good man, Levin. You have been since I met you. And I canseewhat you’re doing, how you feel—all you’re doing is hurting us both by fighting it. By telling yourself a lie.”

There’s a long, protracted silence. Levin looks at me, his face drawn and tired, and I see a resignation there that crushes my heart, because I know in that moment that it doesn’t matter what I say. It doesn’t matter if it’s the truth or not. It doesn’t matter if I’m right.

He’s made up his mind, and Levin is nothing if not committed to a course of action.

“Either way,” he says finally, quietly. “I can’t let myself give in to it, Elena.” He shifts his weight, wincing. “I was out with Max and Liam last night. They said a lot of the same things to me that you’re trying to say now. I tried to listen to them as best as I could. I tried to hear what it was they were trying to tell me. I started to question some of how I’ve been acting, how I’ve been thinking—but what I saw when I got home was too close to how things went before. I think you know that already. And it reminded me that no matter what, I’ve got to keep some kind of distance. I’ve always known that—and the last time I let myself get close, the people I loved paid for it. I’m not going to let that happen to you, Elena. I’m not going to let you suffer because I get too close.”

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