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I can't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions – a longing for the warmth that used to accompany his entrance, coupled with a tinge of sadness at the evident strain etched across his features.
He has dark circles underneath his eyes and spots a five o’clock shadow on his jaw.
Our eyes meet, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still. The emotional charge in the room intensifies, and I find myself grappling with the surge of feelings that accompany his presence.
I sit up on the couch and fold my legs under me as I watch him.
“Hey,” comes his strained voice.
“Hey,” I respond, my voice croaked and barely recognizable.
Kyle looks around taking note of his gifts scattered around the floor of the living room. I watch as he settles into a nearby chair, I remain on the couch. Kyle takes a deep breath, clearing his throat.
“Jewel, I need you to know that I'm sorry. I should never have said those things to Jake, about not loving you. I was scared, scared of being vulnerable, of admitting what I truly felt.”
The air hangs heavy with the weight of Kyle's apology, and I find myself caught in the tumult of emotions that his words unleash. His gaze searches mine, and I can see the sincerity etched in the lines of his face.
His hand extends towards me, a desperate attempt to bridge the emotional gap that widened with his words. "I know, and I can't apologize enough for the pain I've caused you. I should have been honest with you from the beginning, not let fear dictate my actions."
I meet his gaze, a mixture of hurt and understanding in my eyes. "Kyle, you hurt me. Those words cut deep. I thought we had something real, and hearing you deny it so blatantly..."
The room holds its breath, the silence a canvas painted with our shared pain and the tentative hope of redemption. "Why were you so afraid?" I ask, my voice a delicate whisper. "What were you hiding from?"
His vulnerability shines through, a flicker of the fears he had guarded so fiercely. "My parents, ' marriage isn’t the perfect example, I’m sure you must have already known that by now. I didn't want to open up and risk getting hurt, so I built these walls. But in doing so, I hurt the person I cared about the most."
"Kyle," I say softly, a trace of empathy in my voice, "my parents' marriage isn't the epitome of perfection either. They've had their share of struggles, but I've always wanted something different. Something better. I wanted to build a foundation based on love, trust, and openness. If we're going to make this work, we both need to be willing to tear down these walls."
He nods, his eyes reflecting a mix of remorse and determination. "You're right, Jewel. I've been running away from the very thingI need to face. I want to be vulnerable with you, to share everything, even the parts I've kept hidden."
The room breathes a sigh of understanding as we navigate the delicate terrain of our emotions. "But," I continue the weight of the next words heavy on my tongue, "if you don't love me, if this is just a contract for you, then maybe it's best we part ways at the end of it. I want a marriage built on genuine love, not just an arrangement."
The air thickens with the weight of my ultimatum, the gravity of the situation settling around us. Kyle's eyes meet mine, a mixture of regret and determination in his gaze. "Jewel, I don't want that. I want to make this right. I love you, and I should never have denied it."
I nod, acknowledging the sincerity in his words, but the road ahead is still uncertain. "Kyle, I need time to figure this out. Time to see if we can rebuild what was broken. But know that I won't settle for a loveless marriage. If we're going to move forward, it has to be real, or not at all."
He takes a deep breath, the weight of our shared decision hanging in the air. "I understand, Jewel. I'll do whatever it takes to show you that my love is real, that I'm willing to tear down those walls and be vulnerable with you."
“I would really love it if you can do that.”
He nods, a sense of relief evident in his eyes as his fingers weave through his hair, creating a charming disarray. "Can I at least move back?"
Internally, a jubilant "yes" resounds, but I manage to restrain my enthusiasm, opting for a composed nod. "Yeah, it's your house anyway."
His head shakes gently. "No, it's our house." His gaze sweeps around, taking in the disheveled state of the living room. "I see you didn't like my gifts very much."
I respond with a nonchalant shrug. "Save for the designer bags."
A subtle smile graces his lips. "Of course." He continues to look around. “This place does need cleaning,” he says chuckling.
He stands up and begins to pick up scattered items in the living room, silently mending the fragments of our shared space.
As he carefully places a misplaced picture frame back on the shelf, he glances at me. "I want to make things right, Jewel. I want us to have a real marriage, not just one on paper. Can we try, even if it's just taking small steps?"
I consider his words, feeling a flicker of hope. "Small steps," I agree, the weight of the decision settling in. "But, Kyle, we need to be honest with each other. No more hiding, no more walls."
He nods, a solemn promise etched in his gaze. "No more walls. I'll be open with you, Jewel."
We spend the next hour tidying up the living room, and once the room bears a semblance of order, Kyle turns to me. "I'll give you the space you need, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
