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Tara went to her side of the bed and folded down the blanket. The soft snick of the door behind her had her heart racing. She wished he would say something, but, at the same time, maybe silence was best.
Tara slid between the sheets and adjusted her pillows. After grabbing the book from her nightstand, she figured she could read and maybe Sam would just go to sleep.
“You always did read before bed,” Sam stated as he climbed in on the other side. “What are you reading now?”
This she could do. Simple conversation, no touching or pretending they weren’t both feeling torn. Books—she could talk books all day long.
“I am reading a biography about a war nurse from the late 1800s.”
Sam laughed as he adjusted his covers. She tried her hardest to focus on the words and not his bare chest mere inches away—and that mysterious tattoo. But at the same time, she had to be honest, Sam’s chest was far more interesting than any book she could read.
And there she was, teetering on the brink of that fine line that would plunge her into the past. She was so, so close, her toes were flirting with the edge.
“History was always your thing,” Sam replied. “Do you remember when we went to Virginia and spent a whole week taking tours and seeing all the historical sites from the Civil War?”
Tara remembered. Wasn’t that the whole problem with having Sam here? She remembered everything. Every single detail, every moment. Every single touch and glance. Sam was, and always had been, powerful and potent to her senses—and her heart.
“You should get some sleep.” Tara gripped the edge of her book and wished he would turn off his light or put on a damn T-shirt. “You’ve been doing a lot and seem tired.”
Sam shifted closer to her and leaned on his elbow. “Are you honestly going to act like this does not affect you?”
Tara dropped her book to her lap and turned her attention to her husband. “I have to act like this doesn’t affect me. I have to keep my heart whole. It’s difficult enough having you in my house, let alone in my bed. I don’t want to keep rehashing the past.”
“Maybe I don’t want to discuss the past.” Sam’s dark eyes held much emotion, more than she had seen in their previous years of marriage. “Maybe I want to discuss now. Or maybe I don’t want to talk at all.”
Tara’s heart stomped so hard in her chest, her hands grew damp. “Sam, this is not a good idea.”
He continued to stare. What did he want from her? Well, she knew what he wanted, but beyond that what did he want? She had nothing left to give him. She had already given him her heart and that hadn’t ended well for either of them.
“I know you’re hurting,” Sam said as he carefully laid his hand over hers. “I’m not trying to make this more difficult. I’m not saying I want sex—though I do want you. But I need you to know I am here, and I won’t let you feel alone.”
“I don’t mean to be selfish with my own concerns,” she amended. “I know this is hard on you, too. I can’t imagine how you’re coping with being here, knowing it is only temporary.”
Sam nodded and released her hand as he settled against his own pillows. He blew out a sigh and placed his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. How could she not focus on this magnificent man right where he always used to be, right where she wanted him, if she were honest with herself?
He lay on his old side of the bed, the one she’d taken once he’d gone. That had been the only connection she’d had when he went away to rehab. She’d lain in that very spot and cried herself to sleep countless times and wondered if she’d made a mistake in pushing him away.
But the mistake would be letting him in, because if he faltered, she didn’t know if she’d be strong enough to push him away again. Marley needed stability and Tara couldn’t take the heartache again.
“I’m not worried about me,” he finally said. “You and Marley are my top priority right now. I’m on a reduced schedule for the next few weeks, and I plan on being right here through everything.”
The guilt and fear inside of Tara swirled together, giving her a whole new level of anxiety. She wanted him here, yet she didn’t. The internal battle she waged with herself was driving her out of her mind.
