Page 9 of Everlasting Vows

“Nix, I appreciate this. Don’t think I don’t. But I really am busy, and it’s not the time nor place to talk about our”—I glance around, ensuring we’re still alone—“issues. You had your chance last night, and you blew me off.” My voice doesn’t shake, and I mentally fist-pump the air. I sound strong. Determined even.

The elevator dings again, cutting me off. When the doors open, Jase steps out with long strides, and I wonder why he doesn’t use the internal elevator since he lives in the penthouse now?

His smile widens when he spots Nix. “Wow, this is a surprise.” He walks over to us with his hand outstretched. “Hey, Nix.”

Their hands grip and shake. “Jase. Good to see you.”

“You too.” Jase looks at the food on my desk. “What’s going on here?”

“Abbi came in early, and I wanted to make sure she ate breakfast,” Nix says, like he does sweet things like this for me regularly. Spoiler alert, he doesn’t. Or, he used to, but doesn’t anymore.

Jase pats Nix’s shoulder. “You’re a good hubby, Nix. Looking after your girl and making sure she eats.” He grins at me, completely unaware of our situation, and my stomach curdles.

Nix shakes his head, disappointment shrouding his features. “Far from it.”

Jase chuckles as if Nix is joking. In the grand scheme of things, Nix is a great husband. He’s a fantastic provider. He keeps us all safe, and he’s steady and usually very reliable. He’s never raised his voice or hand to any of us, and he doesn’t limit my access to finances like I’ve heard some husbands do. He doesn’t spend nights or weekends out with the boys, and our priorities, goals, and values mostly align. We generally make decisions together, and he values my opinion. When I think about it, I feel petty for wanting to end our marriage over his lack of attention and communication. But it’s more than that. Something deeper is missing between us … has been for some time.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” He turns to me. “I’ll catch up with you when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Jase. I won’t be long,” I tell him.

He waves over his shoulder. “No rush, it’s still early,” he calls.

Nix and I are alone again, but we won’t be for much longer, and I’ll have lost my opportunity to get a jump on the day.

“Look, Abbi. I need to apologize for last night. I had every intention of being home on time so we could talk, but things at work were … difficult and I lost track of time. It’s no excuse, but I thought it was important to explain.” He takes my hand in his and rubs soothing circles on the back of it with his thumb. “I don’t want to lose you, Abbi. I want to do whatever it takes to save our marriage. To save us. I need to make structural changes within my business to give me the best chance, but it isn’t something that can be done overnight. I’m asking you to be patient with me. Give me some time to make the changes, and I promise things will improve.” His eyes burn deep into mine, begging me for a chance to make things right. “Give me until after Prue’s wedding to make things right.”

He’s making it tough to stand by my decision, but what do they say about intentions?

That’s right; the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

He can have all the best intentions in the world, but unless he’s prepared to put the work in and follow through, nothing will change and I’ll have spent another six months? … a year? living in an empty marriage.

Can I do that?

Can I give him the time he’s asking for with an open heart?

Will I survive emotionally?

I’m not so sure.

Am I willing to throw away over thirty years with Nix without giving him the opportunity to make things right?

As he patiently waits for me to respond, I look into his steely eyes, noting the crinkles at the edges and creases between his brows that weren’t there when we first met as teenagers. His thumb continues to swipe back and forth in soothing strokes across my hand, while his eyes beg me to give him a chance. Tension, thick and heavy, fills the space between us, and as I stare into eyes I know so well, I know I’ll relent.

I always do.

I’ve always been the good girl who forgoes what I want and need in favor of keeping the people around me comfortable.

I’m tired of being that girl. The one who bends for everyone else and buries what I want and need. How much more can I bend before I break? But we have so much history together. Children together. A daughter getting married. A home that I thought we’d live in together until we were old and gray. I thought he’d be my one and only. Disappointment edges into my muscles as I note the determination written into the lines across his forehead, knowing I’m about to give in because I stupidly hope he means what he says, and I don’t want to detract from this special time for Prue.

Fuck, sometimes I hate being soft.

“I’m going to get help. I’m going to work on my issues so I can be a better husband to you. Please give me a chance,” he pleads.

I huff, folding my arms across my chest like a wall that will protect me somehow. “I need to see real change.” His eyes light up. “I mean it.” I lean in closer, and he mirrors me. “I won’t survive living the way we do for much longer.”

His eyes soften, and he leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. My eyes drop closed, and I soak up the rare moment of intimacy. The tingling sensation in my nose and the full feeling behind my eyes warn me that I’m about to break at the simple gesture.