Page 142 of Scarred Crown

“I let myself get crushed by assumptions back then. Just… flattened.” He glances up at me. “You’re right. I was a really big asshole.”

“I made mistakes, too, Nick. I should have told you about Alex, or maybe I should have tried harder to get you to talk to me. Or, given how things have gone between Alex and me in the intervening years, I shouldn’t have gone in that direction in the first place. We can’t fix the past. But we do have to find a way to move beyond it—whether or not you decide you want to be with me. For your own good, you’ve gotta let your animosity toward Alex go.”

“Brice told me something similar… for the last three days.” Nick gives a rueful smile. “Gotta admire his persistence.”

I’m not sure what to say to that. It seems while I wasn’t looking, Brice grew up.

“I need to get out of my own way,” Nick says, and he stands up. “I’m a fucking mess, Jules. I treated you so badly back then. I ruined everything. Would you even want to be married to me?”

“Are you kidding me?” I let out a quick laugh. “I haven’t been the one asking for time and space. I didn’t want to hit pause at all. Yes, you hurt me back then, but it was fourteen years ago.”

I let out a huff of frustration and decide to lay everything out. “I learned to let that hurt go. I accepted that you became someone I didn’t know. But in Tanzania I realized, underneath it all, the Nick who used to be my best friend is still there. The asshole you worked so hard to present wasn’t really you.” I give him a hard, determined stare. “But you need to deal with your relationship with Alex. Did he play a small part in what happened between us back then? Yes. But he’s not a villain.”

He nods and runs both his hands through his hair until he’s cupping the back of his neck. His shirt rides up, revealing his taut stomach, and my gut twists with raw desire. I went months without having sex, and it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Three days without Nick has been agony. I should not be thinking about sex right now, but maybe it’s the closeness I’m craving more than the physical act. We were happy, and we can be happy again.

“You’re right. I have things I have to sort out. You’re right,” he says. “I want this to work between us, Jules.”

His response surprises me. “What are you saying?” I search his face. “Are we unpausing?”

“It means a lot that you came to me first today. Even though I couldn’t solve the marriage problem, I want to be the person you turn to whenever you’ve got any kind of issue. I think, in a lot of ways, that’s what’s been most hurtful this time and the most last time. I believed I was that person for you. I thought we told each other everything. I want us to tell each other everything. However hard marriage is, the only person I’d ever want to do it with is you.”

“From the time I wake up until I go to sleep, you’re on my mind. I spend a tremendous amount of my brainpower thinking about you,” I admit.

He’s staring at me so intently, I might melt under the force of his gaze. He wants to be married to me. That’s what he said, right?

“From now on, if I know something, you’ll know it too. There are no more secrets.” Hope is flooding my body.

“I don’t know if I had a right to be mad at you or not about my dad, about the referendum, about Alex. But I was. I was really fucking mad.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “More than that, though, I love you.” He presses the heel of his hand to his chest. “Deep in my soul—you’re never coming out of there—love you.”

I catapult myself out of the chair and into his arms. He chuckles as he catches me and squeezes me tight.

“Oh shit,” I breathe out. “You didn’t answer me. Are we unpausing?”

“We’re hitting play,” he says against my hair. “I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

I close my eyes and hold him tight. The knot in my stomach releases, and I realize a part of me, one I didn’t want to acknowledge, was worried he’d never forgive me. Or that it would take another bazillion years for the stars to align again.

“Brice is taking me to the Alzheimer’s wing at an old age home tomorrow. Can you—do you think you can come?”

When I try to draw back, he splays his hands across my back, keeping me close.

“If you want me there, I’m there. Is this because… you’re still not sure about the referendum?”

He presses his lips to my temple, and they linger there. “I’ve had some conversations with people the last few days that are making me reconsider my stance. Before I say anything publicly, I need to be sure where I’m at.”

“Makes sense,” I whisper. “Just tell me what time tomorrow, and I’ll clear my calendar.” Not that there’s much on it. Once my mother found out Nick and I were on the rocks because of her terrible advice, she kept taking commitments off my calendar and plopping them into hers. Normally, that would have started an argument, but I couldn’t bring myself to care enough to say a word.

“Three o’clock,” Nick says, and he lets me draw away. “Are you coming back here tonight?”

I consider the mess I’ve left in Posey’s spare room, along with this coronation marriage I need to sort out. Tonight is sushi with Posey. Something on my face must give me away because Nick chuckles.

“If you’ve got other plans, just move your stuff back in tomorrow.” His forehead brushes mine, and he drops a quick kiss on my lips. “I never should have asked you to leave. I’m so sorry.”

“I want to come back, it’s just—I haven’t been super tidy at Posey’s house—”

“You? Not tidy?” He gives me a mock baffled look.

I slap him in the chest. “And she’ll kill me if I leave it like that. We’re having sushi for dinner tonight. But I also need to alert people to this coronation complication. And then your dad is having the press conference today…”