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“We’re getting better.”
He nods. “As your mentor, I’m impressed with how far you two have come this week, but I’ve noticed a pattern, and it’s one I refuse to be a part of.”
“Pattern?” I ask.
“You can’t just patch something with another thing and hope it lasts forever. I refuse to be a bandage for your marriage, and I won’t allow myself to end up being the person who helps you figure out your relationship then gets cast aside if things go wrong.”
His words aren’t said with hate or anger; it’s a clear statement. But it makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.
“Beck,” Noah beseeches. “Trust me when I say you were never that. Never.” The last never is said with a weight that tells me he isn’t only speaking of the present.
“I’m not upset,” Beck replies, “and it’s not just about me. You two have real communication issues in your relationship, and a week does not fix that. This retreat does not fix that.”
“But we’ve gotten better,” Noah tries.
“Yes, but this conversation shows me that I’m right. Neither of you spoke about the future prior to revealing your desires to me here.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re using you to patch us up or that we’ll cast you to the side down the line,” Noah argues.
“Maybe not, but it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.” Beck locks in on Noah before he says the next part. “And I’m not going to be the temporary fix for what hurts you, Noah, not again.”
“Beck, I—”
“Like I said, I’m not upset.”
“But I never saw you like that!” Noah cries. “Don’t you get it? You were everything to me.” His voice cracks, and more pain radiates in my chest.
Every word Beck said replays in my mind, and the longer the silence drags on, the more I understand what he’s saying. He has every reason to protect himself. I would do the same if I was in his position.
“Noah,” I say quietly. “Look at me.”
My husband swallows hard before he lifts his head. His hazel eyes shine with so many emotions, I can’t see just one clearly.
“He’s right, baby. And it’s not just you, now, it’s us this time.”
“Quinn,” he pleads. “That’s not—” He looks up at the ceiling and fists his hands together. “Fuck, I didn’t want it to end like this. Not again.”
“It’s not going to end how you think,” I reply calmly.
I steady my breathing as both men keep their eyes on me, the words I need to say solidifying in my mind. I climb up onto Beck’s lap and straddle him, and Noah gives me space to do so. Beck’s arms automatically wrap around me, hands gripping my backside.
I sweep a strand of his brown hair behind his ear, lingering on his handsome square features before I tug lightly at his earlobe, the chill of his hoop earring kissing my fingertips.
“We want you, Beck. Not just now but for the future.”
“We do,” Noah agrees, voice clearer. He moves so that he can wrap an arm around my back and put a hand on Beck’s shoulder.
“You will never just be a bandage,” I say firmly. “Because you’re our anchor. You’ve shown Noah and I how to work together, to really see each other. I know it sounds wild because you and I haven’t known each other long, but you’re a part of us. You’re a part of Noah, and now you’re a part of me.”
“Quinn,” he mutters, “I—”
His worry fills my chest, and I cup his cheek. “You’re right that we have things to work on, but tell me that I’m not making it up—that you do feel something for us and want to be in our lives.”
“I do.”
“Then let us prove to you that we’re in this for you.”
“For us,” Noah says fiercely.
