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Laying my hands against the tabletop, I bow my head. “Do you know we’ve never sat around this together?” I shake my head back and forth, then look up over the landscaped backyard. “We’ve never sat on that bench around the edge of the pond since it was installed.” I twist my neck to look at him. He still looks like the same guy I slammed into with a door and almost broke his nose. “You are still so handsome, Ash, and I will always love you. But it’s been seven nights since we last had dinner together. Seven days of missing you. Weeks since we’ve had sex… because we’re both so tired when we do spend the night together.” We have no energy for each other at the end of our long days.
Shoulders sagging, we stare at each and he knows this is it. Make or break.
“I know your job is stressful and how much they rely on you, Ash. And you know they won’t let you quit.” He lets out a knowing sigh. “I won’t let you either. Go and make history, Ash. That job is what you were made for. The guys, the fans, management, they all love you, and I never want to be the one to prevent you from taking your career to the next level.” I read an article recently that the Boston Bears wanted to make him an offer. If they have, he hasn’t told me. “Without me, you can go anywhere, accept any job.”
Dropping into the seat behind him, he rests his elbows on his widespread knees, weaves his fingers together, and holds them against his chin. Thinking, he stares at me, his eyes red and bloodshot from crying. The pain in my heart stabs at me like a million shards of glass, knowing I’m the one who made him hurt.
The silence grows deadly.
“Say something,” I whisper into the night.
He blinks once, then twice before he finally says, “Go.”
“What?” I blink back, almost confused that he’s giving in and not fighting for us. Is that what I wanted?
Out of character, jaw twitching, his eyes take on a manic look about them as he stares into my face. “I said, fucking go.” Rising to his feet slowly, he points to the French doors of the kitchen. “This is what you want, isn’t it? You want me to tell you to go? So, go. You’ve already packed, Lily.” He runs his hands over his short hair. “You made your decision without me.” He looks up at the house that’s never felt warm or welcoming. “You know, we worked our asses off to rebuild this, to make it a home for us. I thought it was what we both wanted, but it seems like it wasn’t. And never, for a second, did I ever wonder if I wasn’t enough for you. Until now.”
“Ash, that’s not—” I hiccup, unable to stop crying.
“Just admit it. I can’t give you a baby or an hour of my fucking time. Or even sit down with you to have an evening meal. We have more money than we know what to do with and yet we can’t even figure out where we can slot in a vacation to spend it.” Silent tears flow down his face and when he finally looks at me, he says, “You’re lonely. I hear you now. I understand.” Haphazardly, he wipes his wet cheeks with the palms of his hands. “Find whatever makes you happy, Lily.” Head bowed; he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll put your bags in your car,” he mumbles. “But for the record. I miss you, too.”
He walks through the kitchen doors and out of my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lily
My legs buckle and I fall to the ground, my world crumbling beneath me, and I scream. My lungs burn with every emotion I’ve been bottling up for months. “No,” I yell into the night. “This can’t be it.” A crumpled mess on the ground, I look into the sky for answers. “No,” I whisper. I clench my eyes shut and hang my head in shame. I couldn’t give him everything. He’s got this all wrong. “I’m so sorry.” Shoulders shaking, I weep with the greatest sadness I have ever felt. “I’m sorry.” I failed him. Failed us.
Strong arms wrap themselves around me, flooding me in his familiar scent, and he scoops me off the ground. “I’m so sorry,” is all I’m capable of saying.
He shouldn’t be so kind. I caused all of this.
“It’s okay.” Calmly, he carries me into the house, bride across the threshold style, and up the stairs to our bedroom. “You can’t drive like this. You’re too upset. It’s not safe, baby.” I cling on to him, loving how close we are.
“I miss you.” Sniffling, I nuzzle into his neck.
“I know.” He pulls me closer to him. “I know,” he repeats with a resigned sigh.
“It’s not your fault, Ash.” My nose is blocked from all the crying, making me sound like I have the flu.
He lowers me onto our bed on top of the comforter, his mouth pulls to one side. “Then why does it feel like it is?” Avoiding eye contact, he pulls the blanket sitting at the foot of the bed up over me. “You’re as beautiful as the day I met you.” Gently, he runs his finger down my nose and across my upper lip, then turns to leave. “Sleep here tonight. I’ll leave.”
Reaching out, I grab his hand tattooed with a lily. Even if we are over, he will forevermore be covered in reminders of me. “Stay with me,” I beg, wanting him to stay because he’s my person. The only man I have ever been with. Having spent too many nights apart over the years, I crave his comfort.
“I can’t,” he says, his sad tone tugging at my heartstrings. He pulls his hand out of mine and walks toward the door. “You broke my fucking heart.”
A black shadow of gloom looms over me.
“I broke mine too,” I whisper. “But please don’t blame yourself, Ash. We both lost sight of each other. We’re both responsible. I just think we need some time to regroup and think about what we want.” And we need to make changes. Sitting up too quickly, my head throbs. I push my fingertips into my temples. “Let’s talk, Ash. I should have talked to you.”
I wish I had.
He stops in his tracks as if weighing up his options.
I rest my head back down on the pillow again and gaze at the ceiling.
How did we get here?
