Page 47 of Everlasting Vows

We both chuckle as Nix drags his plate in front of him. I’m glad he’s not moving to sit across from me because I like sitting like this. I rest my hand on his firm thigh, and we both pick up our forgotten bruschetta. We share soft smiles that feel like reassurance that we’re going to be okay.

Making short work of our appetizer, we finish just in time for the server to return to collect our dishes. “Are you ready for your main course?”

We both nod. “Yes, thank you.”

Once the table’s cleared, we each take a drink. I watch Nix swallow, admiring the movement of his Adam’s apple. “I would still like to explain why my focus has been so skewed.” This seems important to him, so I nod for him to continue. He looks down at his bottle, then back to me. “After Dad passed away, Mum had to take on two jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. We were no longer getting by. Things were pretty grim. That’s why Hudson and I tried to help where we could.” He swallows as he twists his beer, and I squeeze his thigh in quiet support. “I watched her work herself to the bone. No matter how much we helped, she struggled to provide, and that took a mental and physical toll on her mind and body. In her grief, she doubled down, trying to give us everything we had before. And …” He looks away, then back to me. “I watched her kill herself over a period of years where she worked too hard … did too much.”

“Oh, Nix. I-I-I didn’t realize,” I murmur, watching my husband remember the tragedy of losing both of his parents too young.

He shakes his head. “After the explosion, I didn’t want that life for you, Abs. If something happened to me, I wanted you and the kids to be okay financially, so you didn’t have to work yourself to death like Mom had to. I couldn’t bear the thought of you working day and night just to put food on the table and a roof over your head.” The despair in his voice is unmistakable. “Planning for what if became my priority after what happened to Wyatt, and I doubled down on building my company and financial security for you and the kids. Watching a friend die has a way of reminding you of your mortality and that we don’t know when our time on this earth will be up. He thought he had years ahead of him, but it was gone in an instant.”

The parts of my heart that had mended a few minutes ago split apart, opening a fresh wound. I’m so mad at myself for not making the connection between his losses and the deep impact they had on him. I knew Wyatt’s death had been hard on Nix, but I never imagined the kind of deeply rooted trauma he’s been silently carrying. Not once did I consider the driving force behind Nix’s need to build his business so doggedly. I figured his strong work ethic started when he was young, that it was just part of who he is at his core, but I hadn’t realized how dire his circumstances were when he was young. I knew he’d lost his dad and that his mom worked two jobs, but in my teenage naivety, I didn’t think about what it all meant.

I’m his wife. I should have made the connection.

I thought I knew Nix inside and out, but I was wrong. So very wrong. Tears for the young boy Nix was when he lost his father and the teenager who worked so hard to help his mom build behind my eyes. My nose tingles, and my bottom lip quivers with the effort to hold back more tears. My chest constricts, and my stomach squeezes against the guilt filling all the empty spaces inside me.

I should have known.

He shakes his head, disappointment dripping from his features. “I should have been spending that time with you and the kids. I’m so mad at myself for screwing things up so badly. I wast⁠—”

I place my finger over his lips, stopping his words. “You didn’t waste anything, and you were doing what you thought was the best thing for our family. I feel ashamed that I didn’t understand your thought processes and intentions. I should have known what was driving you so hard, and I should have had compassion and understanding. I got swallowed up in my childhood hurts, and I couldn’t see yours for what they were. I’m so sorry, Nix. I feel like I’ve been so self-absorbed and selfish.”

The server arrives at our table to deliver our main course. Doesn’t he realize we’re having a breakthrough moment in our marriage here?

Once he’s gone, Nix collects his knife and fork and points to my plate. “I’m going to disagree with you, but we should eat before this delicious meal grows cold and your risotto turns into glue.”

I tip my lips up only a little because it feels wrong to smile after what we’ve just shared, but I grab my fork and scoop up some risotto. It tastes as good as I remember, and as the flavors explode on my tongue, some of the tension evaporates from my shoulders.

“This dish still tastes fantastic.” I scoop some onto my fork and offer it to Nix. “Would you like to try it?”

He leans forward and wraps his mouth around my fork, sliding the food off with his lips. His eyes light up, and he nods with approval as he tastes the delicious dish. “Mmm, still delicious. Would you like to try my steak? It’s cooked to perfection.”

“Sure.” He slices off a bite-sized piece and holds it out toward me. The meat melts on my tongue, and I barely have to chew it. Nix watches me closely, his eyes trained on my mouth. “Oh, that’s so good.”

“I’m glad their standards haven’t changed. There’s nothing more disappointing than returning to a restaurant and it’s not as fantastic as it once was,” Nix comments as he slices his own piece of steak.

“Agreed.” We’ve never been a couple to eat out regularly, but we made the effort on birthdays and anniversaries to share a special dinner in a more upscale restaurant. I don’t know why we stopped. Sadness tries to swamp me, but I push it away. We’re trying to move forward, and dwelling on the past won’t help, though that’s all I seem to be able to do. It’s not so easy to push away the hurt, and I don’t know that it’s a good idea to bury it and forget about it altogether.

We fall into silence as we enjoy our food, stealing glances at each other between bites. With each moment that passes, the stifling mood from before dissipates a little more, allowing me to relax and enjoy my meal. Watching my husband as he cuts into his steak, the muscles of his forearms shifting and moving, his strong fingers gripping his knife and fork, a different hunger begins to build in my body. I’ve missed my husband’s touch … craved his affection, which used to be given so freely.

I wonder if we can get that back?

“Wait until you see how much Evan’s grown since his last birthday,” Nix’s voice snaps me out of my pondering.

I glance at him. “When is his party again?”

“Sunday afternoon.”

My heart sinks. “I’m sorry, Nix. I completely forgot. Prue and I have an appointment at a bridal shop on Sunday afternoon. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

He waves off my concern. “Don’t worry about it. It’s more important Prue finds her perfect dress.” He smiles, easing my guilt that I’ve double-booked. “What number dress shop will this be?”

I chuckle, shaking my head mildly. “You know, I’ve lost count. She’s so damn fussy. She’s tried on some gorgeous dresses that would be perfect, but she always finds something she doesn’t like about them. At this point, she may have to design it herself and find a seamstress to make it.”

Nix’s eyes widen. “When did she get so fussy?”

I lift my shoulders. “I have no idea. But I think some of the problem is that she’s not used to wearing such a fancy dress, so she finds anything she tries uncomfortable. She’s used to wearing her work clothes and boots or her weekend attire of shorts or jeans.”