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“Excuse me?”
She bows her head and sniffles.
I can’t move. I don’t know if I can breathe.
“I’m useless to you now.”
I swiftly spin her chair around to face me, then fall to my knees, clutching onto her thighs. “Zara, tell me what’s going on in your head. I need you to let me in.”
She chews on her trembling lower lip as she focuses on some distant place over my head. “You wanted me for a baby. I can’t even give you that.”
“Is that honestly what you believe, Zara?” I try to keep the bubbling anger out of my voice. She’s grieving. She’s been through more than I can imagine. I can’t lose my temper with her, but I also can’t lose her.
I gently intertwine my fingers with hers.
“You don’t think I love you? You think my fucking chest doesn’t burn every time I’m near you? That I’m not completely and utterly obsessed with you? That I don’t have an overwhelming need to protect you, where not a single thing else matters to me more than you?”
“I-I don’t know anymore, Frankie. I just feel lost and so fucking useless. I’m not what you need. Maybe I’m not the woman you should have by your side.”
My hand runs through my hair as I shake my head in disbelief, unable to comprehend what I'm hearing. I need to get it through to her before it’s too late.
How I live purely for this woman.
“Zara, you are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You’re far stronger than me.”
“You said love is a weakness,” she whispers. I tip her chin up, forcing her to look at me. The sound of my pounding blood is drowning out everything else.
“I was wrong. Not ours. Ours is my fucking strength, baby. I love you.”
She fights back welling tears.
“Tell me you don’t love me, Zara. I dare you.” I pin her with a glare.
It’s the only way I can snap her out of this. She needs me to help get her emotions under control the only way I know how.
“Nothing? You still have nothing to say?”
I’ve never known this woman to be stuck for words.
“What, you want me to prove it? Show you how completely and utterly committed I am to you and us for the rest of our lives? Is that what it will take for you to wear my damn ring?”
Filled with frustration, I storm around the breakfast bar, grab a knife, and place it over the gas fire to heat it up.
“Frankie! What the hell are you doing?”
Frantically, she rushes towards me, her sole focus being on taking it out of my hand. I swiftly snatch it away from her grasp.
“You want my commitment, you want me to prove my love, well here it fucking is.”
I take a slow, deliberate step towards her.
“And you have the nerve to tell me I don’t fucking love you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She grabs my wrist, but I pull away. Taking off my top over my head and tossing it on the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Her voice raises an octave.
