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“I can’t believe you would put us through this, that you would lie and hide the truth.”
“I know.”
“And I can’t believe that you wouldn’t trust me to be there for you.”
He touches my cheek. “I know.”
“And…” I breathe for a moment then push out, “I can’t believe that I just stepped aside and didn’t fight for us.”
His brows furrow.
“But I also can’t believe that I let you push me away, that I just stepped aside and sat in my hurt and?—”
“I didn’t make it easy, baby. I fucking filed divorce papers, refused to talk to you.”
“I allowed myself to be a victim,” I tell him. “Were you wrong with what you did? Fuck yes, you were. You were wrong and stupid and I cannot believe this is something you didn’t tell me. It shows you don’t trust me, don’t want me to be there at your side, and I don’t know how we can move forward from that.”
He flinches.
“But…” I sigh. “I also understand where you were coming from—watching your mom be so sick, experiencing things being precarious, almost losing her too many times. I know you were scared of that future, especially since it was all happening right around the time of the shooting and me getting hurt.” I suck in a breath, release it. “And on top of all the hiccups we had as a married couple."
“Baby—”
“And I didn’t do us any favors retiring and then going back to playing, too fucking terrified of who I am without hockey.”
His jaw flexes and he shakes his head. “Yeah, baby, all of that is true.” A breath, his voice so damned gentle, I feel it in my soul. “But who helped me with my own future when I didn’t know what I wanted to do?”
I suck in a breath.
“And instead, I walked out, pushed you away, and?—”
“You have fucking cancer,” I growl, cupping his face in my hands and forcing him to hold my stare. “Of course you weren’t thinking straight?—”
He shakes his head. “I should have done better.”
Her mouth kicks up. “I should have too.”
“Brit—”
“Stefan,” I say. “We both know we have work to do,” I whisper. “A lot of it because you didn’t tell me, but also, I stepped back when I should have fought for us.”
He covers my hands with his own. “I wouldn’t have let you in,” he says. “Even if you had pushed harder than you did. I was too wrapped up in everything, too concerned with protecting you and Rox—” He clamps his teeth together, pulls back, a muscle in his jaw flexing.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s true,” he murmurs. “But it’s also a lie.”
I frown.
“I did—do—want to protect you, especially when I thought I could handle this shit and then could come back and make it right.”
“But?” I ask when he doesn’t go on, knowing there’s more.
“I was scared.”
My heart squeezes. “Yeah, honey, of course you were.”
“No.” He shoves a hand through his hair, exhales sharply. “I was too fucking scared and I almost made the worst mistake of my life.”
