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His bare apartment didn’t come close to feeling like a home or looking as amazing as this house.
Sam stepped into the kitchen just as Tara sat her cell on the table. She offered him a forced smile and he hated that he’d done this to her. Hated that he’d taken the genuine smile from her lips, taken the light from her eyes.
“She’s resting,” he said, nodding toward the living room. “But she just remembered Daisy isn’t here anymore. She doesn’t know how she died, but understandably Marley is pretty upset.”
“Of course she is. Damn it, I don’t like this,” Tara repeated. He’d lost count of how many times she’d said that since being given the doctor’s advice. Tara left no room for questions on where she stood regarding their opinions.
Tara rubbed her forehead, then raked her hand over her face. Despite the fact that Sam found his wife stunningly beautiful at all times, he couldn’t deny how exhausted she appeared. She had to be in a rough position, worried about Marley and having the one man she couldn’t stand the sight of back in her house.
He couldn’t blame her. There had been days he couldn’t stand the sight of himself, either. But then he’d healed, he’d started taking a whole new outlook on life. And he was damn well going to keep moving forward until he was proud of himself again.
Without thinking, Sam took a step and started to reach for her. He hesitated, his hand in the air between them. Tara glanced from his extended arm to his eyes. Her silence was more of a green light than he’d experienced in a year.
Slowly he reached for her, feathering his fingertips across her face. Her eyes remained locked onto his and he wasn’t sure if either of them had taken a breath.
“Sam.”
He said nothing as he slid her hair behind her ear and left his hand right there, right at the edge of her jawline where she had a sensitive spot.
“I know you don’t want me here and I promise not to make things difficult.” Yet he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. “Just because we’re getting divorced doesn’t mean I don’t care. You’re tired, Tara.”
“I’ll rest when she’s better.” Her bottom lip quivered a second before she glanced away. “I appreciate you being here for her, though.”
Anger bubbled within him.
“Where did you think I’d be? She’s my daughter.”
Tara shook her head. “She is, but—”
“Are you going to go there?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you going to throw my past into my face? Fine, let’s bring it out into the open again. I know I didn’t make it to her birthday party. I’m well aware I missed bedtime stories and tucking her in more times than I can count, and I’m damn well aware of the fact that I let you down. I’ll say it until you believe it, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the hell you had to endure.”
Tara closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. Sam had to fist his hands at his sides to keep from reaching for her again. He was angry, but mostly at himself. No, he didn’t like that she was going to bring up the wall that had divided them, but at the same time, he deserved no less.
She’d see eventually that he’d changed, that his separation from her would be his penance until the day he died. That didn’t mean he’d ever give up showing her that he still cared...that he still loved her.
“I didn’t mean to bring it up,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I know you worked hard to get clean, but this past year has been rough and now with Marley...”
Never in the past had he questioned when to comfort and hold Tara, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. They were in this together and seeing her hurt absolutely ripped his heart to shreds.
Sam closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. When she stiffened, Sam gritted his teeth and cursed every blasted pill he’d ever popped, every lie he’d ever told, every tear he’d ever caused her to shed.
“You can trust me to be here for this,” he murmured against her ear. “You can trust that this recovery period will be me as the foundation and the rock. I promise you.”
