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“Audra—”
“Let me finish, Dane. Please.”
I nodded, but felt sadness and shame. She’d carried so much weight—both hurt and false blame—on her slim shoulders. And she was finally expressing both.
“We never talked about it because we found out about Theo’s heart condition just days afterward.” She paused. “When we lost him, I guess I convinced myself that, since there was no baby, there
was no reason for you to stay married to me.”
“Ah, Christ, Audra. I was planning to tell you about that after Theo was born. And then . . . well, once we found out the situation with him, it didn’t seem important. But . . . did you think I cared more about my family money than you?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. I didn’t think that. But after we lost Theo, it seemed like an unnecessary sacrifice.” She sighed. “Or maybe that’s what I told myself. Maybe I was just so angry and hurt, and looking at you day after day kept me stuck there. So instead of trying to draw you closer, I pushed you further away.”
I sighed. “I hold some blame there too. It was almost easier”—I grimaced, because it was the truth—“less painful, not to be around you at all. Your very presence brought up the pain of our loss and I, Christ . . .” I let out a sharp breath, but I owed her the truth. If we had any hope of working through this, we had to be completely honest with each other, reveal every ugly secret. “When you asked for a divorce, I was angry and hurt, but I almost thought . . .”
“It would make things easier.”
I nodded. “Yeah. And so I didn’t fight you on it as hard as I should have. But I would have stayed, Audra. I swear to you. I vowed to love you for life, and I meant it with my whole damn heart. I’m just so fucking sorry that I didn’t love you enough when you needed it most.”
“I don’t know if it’s that you didn’t love me enough. Maybe we just didn’t know how to love each other through our tragedy. We were both just kids.” She paused. “We really fell apart under pressure, didn’t we?”
I smiled, pushing a strand of hair from her face. “Not this time, though.”
She smiled back, a real one. “No, we seem to be doing a little bit better this time. So far.” She shivered gently and I realized I was freezing too, so I unwrapped her from my arms, standing on stiff legs.
“Want to work our fire magic again? And I need to change pants. These ones are soaking wet.”
She looked down at the snow where I’d been sitting this whole time with her curled in my lap and winced. “God, I didn’t even think about the fact that you were sitting on the ground. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Not in the least.” I felt happy and hopeful and like a weight had been lifted I hadn’t even realized was there. I was also exhausted . . . emotionally. We’d needed to talk things out, and in our current state of utter fatigue and lack of nutrition, we’d done well to keep talking. Particularly Audra, and how long she cried. Although, I was learning that was nothing compared to how long she’d carried such grief. We needed rest.
I used my forearm to wipe the layer of snow off my duffle bag and grabbed a pair of jeans. “Sorry about getting pant-less out here for a second, but I don’t really have a choice.” Our sleeping shelter wasn’t tall enough to stand up in. But Audra shot me a smile, her cheeks tingeing slightly. She didn’t look uncomfortable.
“Here,” Audra said, walking over to me and handing me a garbage bag.
“Thanks, I guess I will need that, won’t I?”
“Unless you want to get your socks wet.”
“Definitely not. Thank you.”
I took off my shoes, removed the sodden pants, holding them over my arm so I wouldn’t get the other clothes in my bag wet, and began pulling on my jeans.
Audra eyed me over her shoulder, her eyes roaming downward and landing on my thigh. She turned, her expression concerned. “Let me look at that.” She took the couple of steps to where I stood, wearing only boxers, my jeans pulled up to my knees, and bent to look at my stitches. Her brow furrowed. “It looks red around the edges and there are red streaks . . .” She traced one with her finger.
“Yeah, I noticed that. I think it’s just part of the healing process. It might be a little bit irritated, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”
She pressed her lips together. “Hmm. Well that’s good.” She bent a little close. “The bottom stitch is torn, though.”
“I know. I ah, did that climbing the hill to the plane.”
“Days ago?” She stood, putting her hands on her hips. “Dane, you should have told me. I’d have fixed it.”
I pulled my jeans up the rest of the way and stuck my feet in my shoes. “Listen, Dr. Frankenstein, I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”
She snorted, turning away. “All right, then, get me warm, because I’m freezing.”
**********
