Page 54 of The Marriage Rebound

Typical Courtney. Everything on her time. I took a deep breath. No fighting. No fighting. No fighting. I was giving her space. I didn’t call her any more than she called me. “About whether or not you’re gonna leave me?” Despite my mental pep talk, I couldn’t keep the attitude from seeping into my tone. It was my defense mechanism, well used and activated on autopilot.

Courtney leaned back and pulled in a deep inhale followed by a slow exhale, then nodded slowly. Her attention went to the gold silicone band on her finger, rubbing her thumb across it before glancing back up at me. “Yeah . . . it’s something I’ve weighed. Can you blame me? We haven’t been having the best time as of late. There’s a lot of shit that’s built up between us.”

She’s thought about leaving me. The anger drained and my eyes burned as I fought back tears from her admission. I turned back to pull the steaks from the fridge. I had them marinating in hopes she’d be home and we could have a nice dinner. I could apologize. I needed to do that, but fuck, it was so hard to admit being wrong.

But I didn’t want to lose her. I couldn’t.

She’d thought about leaving me for good. Giving up on me. On us.

I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stay away, and tightened my hand around the door handle as I blew out a breath. “I . . . uh, was gonna make these for dinner tonight, in hopes that you’d be back. But a nice steak salad for lunch works instead.”

I turned back to face her, hoping for . . . something. Her to give me some sort of silent encouragement, or opening, anything. For her to fix it.

“Yeah, sounds good,” she said after a beat.

Her words came back to me, the statement about how she was always the one to make peace first. To do the fixing. Remembering the disbelief from both Denise and Tanisha that I still hadn’t acknowledged the championship win let loose a wave of guilt and shame. It had been her biggest moment, and I’d only focused on how hurt I was when at the end of the day I should have still been there to support and celebrate with her. The more she mentioned how my actions hurt her, the harder it was to admit I was wrong.

And now she was ready to leave me. My stomach lurched and my heart raced at the thought. My pride, or ego, or whatever couldn’t be the reason we crashed and burned.

I twirled the red onion around with my finger, knowing what I had to do. “I’m sorry,” I blurted out. Closing my eyes, I took a slow breath, then started over. “I’m sorry,” I said, meeting her shocked gaze. “I should have congratulated you. It was petty of me, and childish. And I should’ve done better. I shouldn’t have ignored your accomplishment. I shouldn’t have wanted to hurt you like that. And when you told me multiple times that you were hurt . . . this, I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to admit I’m wrong. To apologize. But I should have.”

She didn’t say anything.

My mouth went dry, and I could feel each beat of my erratic heart. “I am proud of you. So very proud of everythin’ you and the team achieved this season, and I hate that my behavior put a stain on it.” I pressed my lips together, losing the fight to hold back the tears. “I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t care. I wish I could take it back, have a do-over. But I can’t and I don’t know if sorry is enough.”

Her continued silence reinforced that my actions could have cost me the best woman I’d ever been with. When she stretched her hand across the island, the tightening in my chest unfurled as I reached out and slid my hand into hers.

“Thank you.” She leaned forward, swiping at a tear that ran down my cheek.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” I whispered. Speaking my biggest fear out loud left me open and exposed, but knowing she was contemplating leaving, I couldn’t process anything other than telling her the truth.

“Baby . . .” Courtney let go of my hand, moving quickly around the barrier between us to pull me into her arms.

For the first time since our fight, I was able to fully exhale as I settled against her, wrapping my arms around her waist. I let the tears flow. No more hiding or trying to pretend I was okay when I wasn’t.

“I’m not gonna lie, I did have thoughts on if this, us, was still something I wanted. Something worth fighting for.”

Her admission made my breath catch. When I felt her loosen her hold, I held on tighter. There had to be something I could do to fix it.

“I know I act irrationally at times. And I’ll do better—”

My words were cut off when she cupped my face, her cast a rough contrast to the warmth of her other palm.

“We both have work to do. I do love you, and I’m not ready to walk away without knowing I did everything I could.” She leaned down and pressed her lips against mine.

Soft, slow, and nothing more than a simple connection, but it was enough to warm me from head to toe. All I could do was nod after she pulled away.

“We have a lot of things we need to discuss.”

“Will we see them through to the end?”

I couldn’t stop the question because, of late especially, she had a habit of walking away when she no longer wanted to continue with the conversation. So, while yes, she was the one saying we needed to discuss things, I’d been left alone and frustrated by that tactic.

A half smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she nodded. “Yeah . . . we will.”

I believed her. She’d thought about leaving for good, but ultimately wanted to fight for me, for us. And that was good enough for me.

“Okay. Okay. Sit, let me get myself cleaned up, then I’ll get lunch together.”