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If there were anything I could do, any manner of atoning, any measure of groveling that would bring her back to me, I would do it. I would beg her, if need be.
But she was very clear that it would not matter. That nothing could make her forgive me—and I can understand why.
Of all the regrets I carry from our brief marriage, the fact that our last time together was a punishment is the worst. I want our last moments together to have been something different, but there’s only that: the fight in the living room, and then that last time holding her, in the basement where she’d been hurt all over again.
I think it’s been almost a week, when I venture out into the back garden. There’s staff that keeps it landscaped and pruned, changing it with the seasons, and it looks as beautiful as it did when I was here with Marika. I walk down the stone path, feeling a sort of hazy numbness as I look at the shrubs and flowers, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to take the same joy in being here that I did before. If it will ever feel the same—and if it even should.
She can’t forgive me—and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I almost don’t hear the footsteps coming down the path. When I do, I don’t think anything of it at first, assuming it’s some member of my security coming to tell me something they think I need to know. But the footsteps aren’t heavy enough, I realize. They’re light, small—and I try to think if the housekeeping staff were meant to come today.
I don’t think they were.
Slowly, I turn around. And when I see the figure walking towards me, I feel certain that I must be dreaming.
I see that familiar slender figure, the long blonde hair, the wide blue eyes in that delicate face that I remember the feeling of against my hands, and every part of me aches with a sudden, painful need that sweeps through me so quickly that it takes my breath away.
I feel sure that I’m imagining things.I’ve lost my mind at last,I think as I watch Marika walk towards me, her steps a little hesitant, her lips pressed together nervously. I stand there frozen to the spot, wondering if I’m actually dreaming this, that I’ll wake up if I move—if that’s the case, I’ll stand right here forever.
“Theo.” She whispers my name as she comes closer, stopping an arm’s length away from me, and I look at her, still disbelieving what’s in front of my eyes. I glance down at her left hand, seeing the absence of the ring there, and I feel a sudden, deep surety that this isn’t a dream. It’s real, and she’s not here for any good reason.
“Did you come to deliver the divorce papers in person?” My voice is dry, catching in my throat, and Marika gives me a sad look.
“No,” she says softly. “I haven’t signed them yet.”
I look sharply at her, confusion flooding through me. “Have you not gotten them? I told my lawyer before I left—”
“I did.” Her voice is still soft, and I want to listen to it forever. “Your lawyer dropped them off. They’re in Nikolai’s office—well, our father’s office, what used to be…” her voice trails off, and she swallows hard. “Theo—”
“Marika—”
“Let me say what I came here to say,” she whispers, the words still catching as she tries to speak. “I flew all the way here, after all.” There’s that sad smile on her face, and she slowly takes a breath, looking at me with an expression that I can’t entirely read.
“Alright,” I murmur. If she came all this way to get something off of her chest, I more than owe her that. I won’t say a word, until she’s finished with whatever it is that she wants to say to me, no matter what it is, or how long it takes.
“I understand,” she says softly, her throat moving as she swallows again, her gaze fixed on mine. “I understand why you did all of it. It’s—it’s hard to forgive, and it’s hard for me not to be angry, sad, and hurt by turns, because of it. It’s hard not to be confused by how it made me feel. I still have things that I need to work through and figure out. But—I do understand. And I don’t deny that I played a part in it all—not that it was all my fault, because it wasn’t. But there were things that I did wrong. And you—”
She lets out a slow breath, her hands knotting in front of her. “You wanted to forgive me for all of it. I felt it—when you held me in that basement, you didn’t want to let me go. You would have taken me home, if I’d asked, and you would have forgiven me everything—or at least, you would have tried. I’m right, aren’t I?”
There’s that small, sad smile on her face again, and I nod slowly. “You are.”
“I thought so.” She takes a deep breath. “I didn’t make this decision lightly. I talked to Lilliana and Nikolai, and I thought, and I cried, and I tried to picture my life without you. It wasn’t easy. And then I tried to picture the one we talked about when we were here together, before—”
Marika closes her eyes briefly, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “I imagined it, and it was easy,” she whispers, her eyes opening again. “So I got Finn’s number, and I called him, and I asked him where I could find you. He said you were here. So I borrowed Nikolai’s plane, and—” she laughs softly, a sort of rueful sound as she reaches into the pocket of her jeans. “It’s going to take time for me to forgive it all, Theo—and I would understand if it took you time, too. We’d have to rebuild trust in each other, and it won’t always be easy. But our marriage was never going to be, one way or another, and I think—” she hesitates. I can’t stop the sudden soaring of my heart, the hope flooding me that she’s going to finish with the words I’m hoping to hear.
“I think we can try together,” she says softly, and she holds out her hand, palm up.
The ring I gave her is lying there, the emerald glinting in the sunlight, and Marika’s eyes are glinting too as she looks at me, an expression on her face so soft and open that it breaks my heart all over again to see it.
“Ask me again,” she whispers.
It’s as if clouds part and the sun comes out, when I hear her say that. I look at her, afraid for a moment that I really am dreaming—but it’s real. Marika is standing in front of me, offering me a second chance.
I would be a fool to give it up.
“I don’t deserve a second chance,” I tell her quietly, reaching for the ring. I sink down to one knee in front of her, the ring held in my fingers, looking up at the woman who once agreed to be my wife, and who I want to say yes to me again more than I’ve ever wanted anything in the world. “If you asked anything of me, Marika, I would do it. I would give anything up, walk away from everything I’ve worked for all my life, change anything you asked of me. I would do whatever it took, for your forgiveness. I won’t ever be deserving of it. But if you will say yes to being my wife—”
I take a deep breath, my heart racing in my chest as I look up at her. “I love you, Marika. And I will spend all my life trying to be worthy of your love in return.”
