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“Then that night, after you read his letter, when I said marrying you was a small price to pay for Cyrus’s happiness, I wanted to hurt you because you were threatening to leave me. I didn’t want you to leave and instead of telling you that, I said the shittiest thing I could think of. All these years of accusing you of immaturity and I was the one who reverted to a sulky, cruel child when I couldn’t get my way. I knew I’d hurt you and I hated myself for doing so, and yet, I couldn’t fucking shut up and just tell you that I didn’t want to lose you. That I loved you. That I needed you. I should have apologized right then, but I didn’t. I was such a fucking spineless prick. I’m so so sorry for everything I’ve ever said and done to hurt you, mo chridhe. You didn’t deserve it. And I know I don’t deserve another chance with you.
“Especially since my mistakes aren’t limited to just our marriage, they’re littered throughout our relationship since the moment we met. I misjudged you. I mistreated you. I failed you. And I honestly couldn’t fault you for finally walking out on my ass, but, Lilah I truly fucking adore you. And if you leave me, you’ll take the sun with you. If you’d just give me a chance…” His breath was coming in sobs now, his eyes blurred, he couldn’t tell if she was reacting to his words. He feared she wasn’t. That this was too little too late. And his desperation added an embarrassing tremor to his voice. “I know that right now you hate me, but I’m fucking begging you to give me another chance, mo chridhe. I swear to God, I would move heaven and earth to make you happy and make you love me again.”
Lilah stared up into Ben’s starkly handsome face, his eyes were brimming with tears, his expression stark with fear and—yes—something that looked like love. He had no reason to lie to her about this. Not with the baby out of the picture. He had nothing to gain from saying these things, by humbling himself like this. Not even Ben liked winning enough to literally go onto his knees and beg. And no doubt about it, that was what he was doing. He was begging for his—their—marriage. For a second chance.
For her love.
For his happiness.
“Ben, I never hated you. Not really. You hurt me. You kept massive secrets from me and treated me like a child.” He winced, averting his eyes, but she caught his jaw in her hand and turned his head until he was looking at her again. “I hated how you belittled me and my love for you on our wedding day. And I hated how that, combined with your deception about Gramps, made me feel. So small, stupid, and insignificant. Like a sacrificial pawn on a gameboard that only you could see. And yes, that love I thought I had for you dimmed, and lost its sheen. It couldn’t flourish, Ben. Not in such a hostile environment.”
“An arctic tundra,” he murmured, taking her back to her ridiculous talk of love being like a plant. She was surprised he remembered that. His hands moved, before they’d merely been resting on the sofa beside her hips, but now they moved up to cup her waist. Nothing more than that. But it was contact and it burned through the layers of her clothing.
“Lilah, my heart was that arctic tundra,” he said, his voice a low, self-conscious rumble. “It was a frozen wasteland. But you were wrong about nothing growing on a tundra, sweetheart. My love for you grew there. At first a tiny, ugly, insignificant thing. Barely breaking through the frozen surface. It was scarcely visible to the naked eye, but it was there. All it needed was your sunshine to flourish and grow, wild and beautiful and untamed. It cracked through the surface and filled all the emptiness that was there before. It bloomed into this magnificent, incredible force of nature.”
“Way to turn my metaphor against me, Ben,” she said, breathless, excited… starting to believe what she could see in his eyes. Wanting to believe it. Terrified of disappointment.
He sucked in a deep breath and asked, “Do you still hate me, Lilah?”
“It would be easier than loving you,” she admitted with a resigned sigh. “But what I was trying to say before you schooled me on the whole arctic tundra thing, was that I never truly hated you. But I never truly loved you either. Not the way I should have. I was still on the whole fairytale princess true love’s kiss thing. It was unrealistic. What I feel for you now—by comparison—is grittier, it’s real, it has thorns, but it also has the most magnificent perfect blooms to counteract those thorns. There’s no such thing as a perfect love, Ben. Not really… but there’s the one who holds you when you’re crying, the person who breathes with you when you can’t breathe on your own. The crazy bastard who adopts a dog just as an excuse to see you again. There’s the misguided guy who sends sad, bizarre letters when he can’t reach you by email, text, or phone. The man who fucks up by marrying you for all the wrong reasons, with the very best of intentions. I love you, Ben. I’ve always loved you… But I’ve only recently learned how it feels to be in love with you.”
