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“I didn’t know I had to.”
“Maybe I wasn’t sure.” She hesitates, looking at me. I’ve never seen her looking so vulnerable before. “But it doesn’t change anything. I’m divorcing you in a few months.”
“I know. You keep telling me.” I try not to smile. I don’t want to rile her up again.
“But you refuse to believe it.”
“What are you hiding, Keely?”
She brushes past me, over to the breakfast tray, and chews on a bacon strip. “This is good,” she mutters, eating another. “What if I said I don’t want to tell you? But it’s not something you can fix, and not something that matters right now?”
“Then I’d say that’s ominous as fuck.”
“You are capable of trust, right? No, don’t give me some sarcastic answer. Be honest.”
“Yes, Keely, I’m capable of trust.” I move closer. “But you’re my wife. You’re not an employee doing some menial chore. I can’t simply turn my back and hope for the best. You are everything.”
She holds out a hand, palm up, as if to stop me from getting closer. “That’s the problem, right there. You keep saying that, but I’m not. We had a one-night stand.”
“Keely—”
“And it was good,” she says, pacing away. “It was really good.”
“This is about more than that one night. This is about every night since. You like my mother. You tolerate my brother.” She makes a face, wagging her hand from side to side. I laugh gently but keep going. “You could be Ash’s sister-in-law. You could have so much if you let me give it to you. You want to be my wife, Keely. Only you’re afraid.”
“I don’t know what I want.” She stares down at the floor. “I really don’t.”
“Then let me decide for you. I know what I need, and it’s you. I’ve felt more alive in the last few days as your husband than I have in the last few years. My days are going slowly again, like I’m savoring every moment I’m awake, all because of you. It’s like you’ve given me another life.”
“Nolan,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I can’t. I don’t know.”
“Then trust me. This is good. You and I aregood. I’m in love with you, Keely, and whether you know it now or not, we’re going to be together.”
She backs away. “Please. I just need some time to think.”
I let that sink in. I want her to say she loves me too, but that’s too much to expect. It’s not reasonable. She’s only just barely beginning to accept that we’re together, much less that she actuallylikesbeing with me. But I can feel the truth. I can see it all over her.
This is working.
Our marriage is real, no matter how it started.
But there’s something holding her back.
“I want you to see my life,” I say softly, stepping toward her. She looks up, surprised.
“You want what?”
“Come with me on my rounds today.”
“I have work.” She chews her lip. “The shop—”
“Like you said, Roger and his guys will take care of that. You can leave them to it for a day.”
“You’re right, but you don’t want me tagging along.”
“Actually, you’re wrong. I think you don’t understand what I do. You have this idea of me, and it’s not all wrong, but it’s not all right, either. I want to show you what I do, who I am, the real me. Come with me today.”
She takes a deep breath. I can tell she’s conflicted, but I want this. It’s time to stop holding her at arm’s length, to stop worrying about what might happen in a day, a week, a month.
