Page 75 of Everlasting Vows

“Thank you,” I breathe against his lips.

He pulls away a little, looking at me with confusion. As if I’m a puzzle he needs to pull apart and put back together again. “What are you thanking me for, Abs?”

My smile is shaky at best. “For being here.”

He smooths my hair and trails his fingers lazily down the column of my spine. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He rests his hand on my hip and squeezes. “We’ll deal with this together. You’re not alone.”

“No, I mean here.” I drop my eyes from his, too uncomfortable to maintain such close eye contact. “Choosing to sleep in this bed with me.”

His breath bursts across my lips with his sigh, then he rolls us until I’m flat on my back and he’s cradled between my thighs. He rests on his forearms, caging me in with his large hands cradling my head. His eyes are tortured as he stares down at me. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for sharing a bed with you. It’s where I should always sleep.” He rubs his nose along mine and presses his mouth to my forehead. “I’m terrified I’m going to hurt you in my sleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend the night on the couch when I could wrap myself around you,” he murmurs.

I melt into the mattress, and if he’s not careful, I’ll turn into a puddle. I cup his cheek and lock my brown eyes with his terrified gray irises. “I trust you not to hurt me.” I hope he hears the strength of my belief in my voice and sees the trust I have for him in my eyes. “I’ve never felt unsafe with you.” His expression is a study in disbelief, but I shake my head. “I haven’t. Even that night. I knew you would wake before things went too far. Your instinct is to protect, not harm.”

“Abbi,” he breathes. “How can you say that when I had my hands wrapped around your throat? You wore bruises you had to hide for two weeks.” He shakes his head, disgust painting his features. “You deserve better.”

“I deserve to be loved and cherished. And while you forgot for a while, you’ve been working really hard to make it up to me.” I press upward and touch my lips to his briefly. “When you love me, you love me the best. Better than anyone else ever could.”

Sadness washes over his face, causing his mouth to turn downward. “I’m sorry I forgot to love you, Abigail,” he whispers brokenly. “You deserve better than I’ve given you.”

The anguish in his voice undoes me, and tears well instantly, falling without permission down the side of my face, dripping into my damp hair. He kisses them away, whispering his apology with every press of his lips. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him tight against my body, relishing in having his weight on me. It’s been so long.

“I love you,” I tell him through my tears.

He sucks in a sharp breath and presses his face into my neck. “I never thought I’d hear those words from your lips again. I love you so much.”

Every day, we follow the same routine. Hours upon hours of sitting beside our son, watching for any sign he’s going to wake. It’s been three days of torture. Three days of heartbreak. Three days of worry. Three days of asking what if?. My anxiety is through the roof, and I doubt my cortisol levels will ever return to normal.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” I whisper to myself, my leg shaking up and down like it does when I’m anxious.

Nix doesn’t miss my whispered words. He climbs to his feet and comes around to my side of the bed, tugs me to my feet, sits, then situates me on his lap. His hard thighs cradle my butt, and I sink into his warmth. Wrapping his arms around me, he holds my exhausted pieces together and kisses my shoulder. “He’s busy healing. We don’t want him to rush this part.”

I appreciate his explanation and his confidence, but I need to see my son’s eyes. I need him to know he’s not alone. That we’re here to help him through this.

“I just feel so helpless,” I murmur as I lean my head against Nix’s.

He sighs. “Me too.” I can’t imagine how he feels. Men are inherently fixers. There’s a problem; they jump to find a solution. Something’s broken, they fix it (often in their own time). Sitting here, unable to help or improve the situation, must be driving him crazy.

The noise of the machines fill the silence that settles between us as we both watch Murphy for any signs that he’s coming back to us. Nurses check on him at regular intervals, and the lack of concern for his current state sates some of my worry. If they’re not worried, then everything must be going as anticipated.

When darkness falls outside the hospital window, Nix tugs me to my feet and guides me back to our hotel. He takes care of me in a way that shows me how precious I am to him, even though he’s as dead on his feet as I am. We do nothing but sit all day; I don’t understand why it’s so exhausting. Mentally and physically, we’re both shattered.

Nix curls himself around me, and even though he’s done it every night that we’ve been here, I still feel like I could sob like a baby with relief that he’s sharing a bed with me.

It’s such a simple concept. One I took for granted before the explosion, but never again. I’m going to soak up every moment of having my husband sleep beside me and appreciate it like the precious gift it is. Hope fills my chest that we’ve turned a corner in our marriage and that we’re going to be okay.

He brushes my hair away from my face, then cups my cheek and turns my head toward him. “We missed our anniversary yesterday,” he tells me, his voice heavy with regret and apology.

I roll toward him with a soft smile. “I don’t even know what day it is right now.”

A soft laugh puffs over his lips. “Same, but I still wanted to wish you happy anniversary and tell you that asking you out was the best decision I’ve ever made. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m beyond grateful that you’re mine. I’m so thankful for the life we’ve built and the family we’ve created.”

Every part of me softens; he says he’s not good with words, but he is. This is the Nix that I used to be married to. I think that’s why I found his indifference so hard to deal with; because it’s not him. It was like being married to another man. A man I didn’t know and couldn’t relate to.

He touches his mouth to mine. “Happy anniversary, Abs,” he murmurs before taking my mouth in a scorching kiss that ends with me flat on my back and Nix pumping his hips deliciously between my thighs.

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ABBI