Page 79 of Everlasting Vows

“Are you sore anywhere else?” I ask more firmly, holding her warm brown eyes with mine. When she breaks her eyes from mine, I know my answer without her needing to say a word. “Where?”

She still doesn’t answer. That’s okay, I’ll work it out for myself. I shuffle back and reach for the bottom of the T-shirt she’s wearing—one of mine—and push it up over her hips, noting the redness across her pelvis. I don’t think this will bruise, but I don’t want to take the chance, so I carefully apply arnica to the area, nudging her panties lower so I can cover the entire area. Rising bile burns my throat at what I’ve done. The damage I’ve caused the woman I love most in the world.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll say it a million times,” I murmur as I bend forward and softly press my lips to the affected area. Tears well and they grow too heavy to be contained, falling on her hipbone. As I stroke the wetness away with my thumb, more tears fall until my body is shuddering and I’m struggling to breathe through my anger and shame.

Abbi’s fingers slide through my hair, soothing my scalp and sending tingles radiating down my neck to my back. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she reassures me, her voice a raspy whisper. Leaning over me, she presses her lips against the back of my head.

I’m not sure how long we stay like that, me crying and her comforting me, but it feels all kinds of wrong. It should be the other way around. I should be the one comforting her. She’s the injured one here, not me.

She’s the victim and I’m the villain of this scenario.

I drag myself away from her comfort and swipe at my cheeks, embarrassed at being so weak, but seeing what I’ve done to her shatters something deep inside of me. Something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repair. When I look at her, I’ll always see the bruises on her body, the tears on her cheeks, the fear in her eyes, her flinch to my touch. And I deserve to relive those moments. To be reminded of the monster that lurks beneath.

Throughout my life, I’ve been a protector. I did my best to take care of Mom after Dad died, but I was just a kid and couldn’t help as much as I wanted to. I’ve always prided myself on looking after Abbi and the kids, as well as ensuring my men stayed as safe as possible in some of the most unsafe conditions; not that I was always successful, but I always did my best. But this … this is so completely foreign to me that I’m struggling to wrap my mind around what I’ve done. Again.

The damage I’ve caused. Again.

The sense of failure as a husband and protector is overwhelming.

Reconciling the man who thrives on being in control with the man who loses that control so epically is asking the impossible.

Will this be the reason Abbi decides to follow through with her request for a divorce?

Will she finally realize I’m too broken and unstable, and she’s better off without me?

Fear strikes like an arctic blast at the thought of her leaving me, and my blood turns to ice. When I finally get the courage to look at my wife, my breath stalls in my lungs at her red, swollen eyes and glistening cheeks. I cup her face gently and use my thumbs to wipe her cheeks, then lightly press my forehead to hers. “I’m so fucking sorry, Abs. I promise with everything I am that this will never happen again.” I press my damp lips to hers. “I’ll never forgive myself for doing this to you, so I don’t expect you to forgive me. We’ll go back to sleeping in separate beds, and you’ll be safe.” The offer to sleep in separate beds tastes like sawdust on my tongue, but I need to do everything possible to keep her safe. To make her comfortable enough to stay with me. “Please don’t leave me.” I won’t survive.

She wraps her hands around my wrists, bringing attention to an injury I didn’t realize I had, and I tighten my jaw. I don’t want her to worry about me. “Nix, I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want to sleep in separate beds. Don’t do that to us. Don’t do that to me,” she rasps softly, and I can tell every word she speaks is causing her discomfort.

I press my finger over her lips. “Stop talking. Rest your throat. I don’t want you hurting any more than you already are.” She nods, and I see the worry in her eyes, but I can tell she’s fading. The adrenaline drop after an experience like hers will knock her around. I move back a little and hold up the sheet. “Lie down. I’ll grab the ice pack, and you should try to get some more sleep.”

“Are you—” she coughs, and I rub her back, then hand her a glass of water, which she sips. “Are you going to sleep too?”

I glance at the time—seven p.m. at home. I know I won’t be able to sleep now, and I need to speak with Harry. I need to work through what I’ve done; maybe he can help. “I need to make a phone call.” Sadness washes over her face, and I despise myself for putting that expression there. “I need to talk to Harry about what just happened. He’s been helping me and I need … I just need to talk to him about this.”

She nods and moves carefully so she’s lying flat, allowing me to cover her. “You’ll come to bed after your call, right?”

I don’t want to make a promise I know I’m not going to keep because there’s no way in hell I’ll sleep beside her until I know I’m no longer a threat to her. “Try to sleep. I’ll probably be awhile.”

Leaning down, I press my lips to her forehead, closing my eyes and thanking whoever’s above that she’s still here, even though I tried my best to end her life.

SESSION FIVE

I step out onto the balcony and slide the glass door closed, then take a seat on the outdoor chair and text Harry to check if he’s available. Fingers crossed he is, because I need a sounding board to make sense of tonight.

Me

Hi Harry.

Sorry to bother you, but I really need to speak with you about something that’s just happened. I could use your wisdom.

I drop my phone into my lap and, remembering the pain around my wrists, I pull the sleeve of my sweater up to reveal deep scratches with droplets of dried blood along the edges. I drag my finger along one of them, relishing the sting as I trace the red line. My finger dislodges a sticky clot, and I watch as a fresh bead of blood forms. My stomach curdles as I think about the utter terror Abbi experienced at my hands.

She had to fight for her fucking life.

I shake my head, dropping it into my hands. I dig my fingers into the strands and tug harshly—despair my current companion. If I can’t get past this, can our marriage survive? I’ve made positive strides with Abbi, but this may be too much, even though she says she’s not going anywhere.

My screen lights up with Harry’s name, and I fumble to answer the call as I jump to my feet and begin to pace. “Hey, Harry. Thanks for calling.”