What He Doesn't Know(50)

"You don't love him," he repeated, his gaze hard. "You love the idea of  him, the idea of what he used to be to you, and of what he never was."

If I wasn't clenching my jaw so hard, it would have been on the floor.

"You don't know anything," I spat, standing straight again. A black fog  crept into the edges of my vision but I ignored it, floating on the  adrenaline set loose by his words. "You haven't known anything about me  since we lost the boys. You haven't even cared to know."

"I was trying to give you space and let you heal, Charlie."

"I DIDN'T NEED SPACE," I screamed, flying toward him. I stopped just a  few feet away as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. My hand flew to  my chest, fisting over my heart as my face twisted with the emotion I  couldn't hold back anymore. "I needed you."

He flinched at that, his face finally falling from the stoic expression  he'd worn since he walked in the room. His eyes fell to the floor and I  shook my head, turning my back on him again. A rush of cold air from the  window shocked a loud breath from my chest, and I swiped at the tears  I'd let escape.

"I know," he said after a moment, voice low. "I realize that now, and  I'm sorry. But I'm your husband, and you're my wife. You love me,  Charlie. Not him."                       
       
           


///
       

I choked out something between a laugh and a sob, spinning on my heels to face him. "I'm leaving you."

"No, you're not."

"Are you deaf?" I asked, incredulous. "I'm leaving you, Cameron. I'm done. It's over. I want a divorce."

"Two months," he said loudly, his voice booming over mine as I said the  dreaded d-word. His eyes snapped to mine, the crease between his brows  deep and serious.

"What?"

"That's how long he's been back in your life, right?" he probed, jaw  clenched. "That's how long it took you to realize that you love him,  that you don't want to be my wife anymore, that you want to turn your  back on everything we've built, on everything we've been through, to be  with him?"

I just stared at him, mouth open to fight back, but I didn't have words.

"The least you can do is give me a fair playing field," he continued,  and he straightened his shoulders with his next request. "Give me two  months."

I scoffed, pacing the room, my eyes flicking from the cage to the window  to him and back again. "You're kidding, right? There's nothing you can  do, Cameron. You've had the past five years," I reminded him. "Five  years since we lost our sons. Five years since you turned your back on  me and left me alone in this marriage. What could you possibly do to  change my mind now?"

"Two months, Charlie."

A scream ripped from my throat, and I grabbed the open door of the bird  cage, throwing it to the floor in a thunderous crash. I dragged my hands  through my hair once it was at my feet, squeezing my eyes shut as more  tears broke free.

"I just don't understand," I cried. "Nothing makes sense. Why now? Why did it take losing me for you to care?"

My hands fell to my side, exasperated, and I met his eyes with my own.  Emotion tore through me like a razor blade to a healing wound, and I  didn't bother fighting against the tears anymore as I begged my husband  for mercy.

"You waited too long," I croaked. "And now, it's too late. You don't  even love me, Cameron. You haven't for years. You know you don't love me  anymore. Why can't you let me go?" I choked on another sob, shaking my  head as my vision blurred. "Please, please, just let me go."

I broke in the middle of our bedroom.

My shoulders caved, knees giving out next, and I reached blindly for our  bedpost to keep me standing upright as I succumbed to the flood of  emotions soaring through me.

Guilt.

Desperation.

Pain.

Sorrow.

Loss.

All of it swirled inside me like the deadliest tornado, and all I wanted was to escape it. To escape him.

"Come here."

Cameron's voice was low, and in my peripheral, I saw his hand outstretched toward where I stood.

"Please, come here and let me hold you."

"No."

"Just … " He sighed, hand falling to the bed before he held it up again, this time curling his fingers. "Come here."

I shook my head, annoyed that he wouldn't just leave me be as I gave in  to his ridiculous request. I didn't understand why he wanted to hold me,  why he wanted to comfort me only now that he'd lost me.

But when my hand slipped into his, he tightened his grip, pulling me  gently until I was in his lap. He framed my face with one hand as the  other wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, and his eyes  searched mine.

And I saw him.

In that brief, lightning flash of a moment, I saw the man I'd married.

I saw lazy afternoons on the beach during our honeymoon, and laughter  shared over candlelit dinners, and comfort in the form of hugs after  long, hard days. He brushed my cheek with his thumb, wiping away a tear,  and I couldn't fight against the urge to melt into him.

I collapsed in his arms as he pulled me in closer, one arm pulling my  legs up until I was cradled in his lap like a child. He rocked me,  soothing me with his hands over my hair, my arms, my back as his lips  pressed against my forehead. He didn't kiss me, though - he just let his  lips rest against the warm skin as a sigh left his chest.

"Two months," he whispered, still rocking me, and a new wave of tears  broke loose at the sound of his voice so close to my ears. "That's all  I'm asking. Two months to prove to you that the vows I made to you still  hold true, and that it's me you're meant to be with - not him. Please,"  he begged, and emotion robbed his next words as his own tears met mine.

I hadn't ever seen him cry. Ever.

Not even when we lost the boys.

He was quiet a moment, battling against his emotion's betrayal of the  calmness he'd tried so hard to contain. When he finally found his voice  again, it was quiet and raw. "Please. Just give me a chance."                       
       
           


///
       

I swallowed, closing my eyes as I leaned into his warm chest.

"Two months?" I asked.

"Two months."

Reese flashed into my mind, but he was erased in an instant with a  gentle sweep of Cameron's hand over my lower back. My husband was asking  me for a chance to keep me, for a chance to fight for our love. Was he  too late? Maybe. Did I think he could change my mind? If I was being  honest with myself, no.

But I owed him the chance to try.

They say there are two sides to every story, and it was in that moment,  in that dark, desperate snapshot of my life that I realized I hadn't  asked him for his.

So, I opened my eyes again, leaning back in his arms until our eyes connected, and I offered the only word I could.

"Okay."





TO BE CONTINUED …