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“Because I owe her!” Pulling away, his feet fall to the floor and he turns his back to me, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I owe her, Merrick. Why can’t you understand that?” I wish I knew if he was talking about Chantal or Charlotte. I’d venture a guess that he’s not anymore certain than I am.
“So because you think you owe her, you’re willing to walk away from this? From me?”
He turns to face me, the face of a stranger perfectly in place just as it was when we first met. “She’s my wife, Merrick.”
“Yes, I’m well aware.” Sniping at him won’t get me anywhere, but I can’t ignore how he constantly throws her in my face when he’s trying to defend himself.
Muttering a curse, he once more looks away, slumping forward, elbows on his knees. “We talked…and we have been talking a lot since then…and she…she cried.” He shudders and sighs as if it causes him physical pain to recall their discussions. “I can’t explain it….but she’s my Chantal again. Not the cold-hearted woman she’s been all these years.” A sob is wretched from his throat. “She’s the mother of my child!”
Without saying the word out loud, I’m well aware he’s speaking of obligation. His obligation toward his wife, his marriage, his dead child. Any obligation he might feel for me is superseded by his devotion to his family. It’s what I love—and also secretly hate—about this man who I’m going to have set free even though it scares me to death to do so.
Uneasy silence settles over the room. I can’t hear him breathing; can’t hear myself either. There’s a loud ringing in my ears and an uneasy sickness in my gut. The part of me that admires him for the loyal man he is, now despises that quality even more than I hate myself for falling in love with someone so unattainable.
Davis sucks in a deep breath, then turns to face me once again. The stranger is gone and looking at me now is the broken man who I tried to heal with my friendship, and eventually my love. The man I once hoped would be mine forever. The man looking at me now, eyes swimming with tears, whom I am desperately in love with; a man I will sacrifice anything for as long as he finds happiness again.
I’m torn. So incredibly torn. I’ve only ever wanted Davis to be happy. I’ve wanted him to wake each day with a smile, and have hope fill his heart. If reuniting with Chantal and working on reconnecting and reestablishing their marriage is what will make him happy, I have no choice but to let him go. I’ll take a step back. I’ll allow him to find his smile and his hope with her. I’ll set him free. It is the only unselfish thing I can do for him now.
My heartache will hold. It’s not going anywhere.
Moments pass and in the silence I hear the words he can’t or won’t speak to me. I’m already sick with grief, knowing the pain that I’m set to endure. But I need him to say the words out loud. I need to hear confirmation from him that we were never going to find our forever together. “You’ve made your decision then?”
Tears spill down his face. “I never wanted this to happen.”
My heart tumbles, his for just a little bit longer. “I know that, baby. I know.” And I do. For all of Davis’s uncertainty in the time we’ve known one another, I can say with full conviction that I believe he never intended to inflict pain on me. It’s a sad conclusion that brings me little comfort, but I do believe it to be true.
Reaching out, he holds his hand palm side up, his eyes silently begging. I doubt he knows how desperately I want to touch him, and yet how eager I am for him to just go and get this over with. I am so damn conflicted about him and this moment. I’ve only ever wanted the best for him. Finding out that I’ll never be his best is the last thing I want to hear.
Sliding my hand into his, my eyes grow wet with emotion. I try telling myself he’s doing what’s right, he’s giving it one last shot, he’d doing what he has to for the woman he once vowed to spend a lifetime with. But none of those reassurances help heal the pain that transcends over my entire body. I’m losing him to the ghost of a marriage that once was. I’m saying goodbye to the love of my life, and watching him walk away because he believes his decision is the right thing, the honorable thing, to do. How can I condemn him for wanting to do the right thing? How can I love him any less for being the incredibly unselfish man I know him to be?
Aiden would tell me that I should be pissed, that I should toss him out and never look back. But I could never do that. Davis doesn’t have a malicious bone is his beautiful body. He’s tried to make us work, he really has. He came alive in the months we spent together. His pain faded, or maybe he’d just gotten so used to it that it’s not as obvious to the naked eye. The man I’ve spent all these weeks loving is no longer the bitter, distant man I once met at the beginning of the year. The man sitting before me now, crying steadily over the pain he’s caused me, is a good man. A great man. The best man.
“I love you,” I whisper, even though I know the words are empty and won’t change the fallout of what we’ve become. But I can’t let him leave without knowing how much I cherish him, how much I truly wanted us to last. I can’t let him leave without saying out loud that I’m willing to put his happiness above my own. “I’ll always love you, Davis. Always.”
He swallows thickly and nods, seeming not the least bit surprised at my words, and shocking me to the core when he easily replies, “I love you too, Merrick. And I’m grateful. So damn grateful.” Rising slightly, he kneels on the bed and takes my face between his palms. His eyes roll slowly over my features, as if he’s memorizing everything one by one. Tears roll down his face in thick waves as he leans close to me, whispering, “I’m so sorry.”
Me too.“Don’t be sorry, my love. You have to do what’s best for your family. I understand that.”I hate it, but I do understand.
Mostly I really hate it.
His mouth comes down onto mine, catching the sob I’ve been trying so desperately to hold in. Kiss after kiss, he makes me his one last time. Then he presses his lips to my forehead, the words, “I’m sorry,” sounding raw and ragged. Helpless.
Rising from the bed, he begins to pull on the clothes I helped him shed last night. I drink in the sight of his body one last time and wonder if there will ever be a day when I can’t remember what it feels like to make love with him. A small part of me hopes that day comes very soon, because I’m well aware that it is the memories of us that will derail me.
His keys and wallet are on the dresser, in the same place they’ve been most nights. He shoves them into his pockets, pushes his feet into his sneakers, then gathers up his duffle bag and starts to shove items into it one by one. The task itself takes only a few moments, but with each tick of the clock I can feel my heart turning to sand.
When he’s all packed up, his belongings spilling out of the unzipped bag, he moves slowly toward the bedroom door. The last thing he says before he walks away and completely rips my heart in two, are the barely whispered words, “Thank you, Merrick.”
I don’t get to ask him if he’s thanking me for my understanding, or just thanking me for a few months of happiness. Could be he’s just thanking me for giving him a soft place to land while he figured out what direction he wanted his life to go. He might even be thanking me for teaching him the finer points of loving another man.
In this moment, none of that matters. No thanks or apologies or pleading words of understanding will change anything. He’s going back to his ungrateful wife and I’m the idiot who is now all alone. I’m the dummy who trusted in what we were making together, the pathetic chump who pursued a married man, knowing damn well I was setting myself up for failure. Now I’m sitting here in a bed all alone, my skin smelling like him and us, my house big and empty.
I’m such a damn fool. How the hell could I have just let him walk away? Why the hell didn’t I push harder, or pull away when that voice inside my head warned me to months ago? Why did I have to be such a goddamn martyr? How the hell could I have turned my entire world upside down for a man simply because I thought he’d grow to feel just as I do; that nothing is more important than the two of us and the happiness we can bring to one another.
Falling down onto the bed, I gather his pillow close and inhale his scent. I wonder how long it will take before the smell fades, disappearing just as quickly as he has from my life.
I wonder if I’ll ever be the same again after losing him.
