25. CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 25
Rose
W e went for a walk—something we never did at home. I was surprised and delighted when Gray agreed.
The moon was high and bold in the clear sky, spreading a silver glow over the beach as Gray and I walked along the shoreline. The brisk December air was tinged with the salt of the sea, each breath a cool, briny kiss. We were wrapped in our coats to ward off the chill as we trudged through the soft, cold sand.
We walked in silence for a while; the only sounds were the crashing of the waves against the shore and the occasional distant call of a night bird. The world felt hushed and expectant, as if it, too, was waiting to hear what would be said between us.
Finally, Gray stopped walking and turned to me, his face pale and drawn in the moonlight.
"Tell me how I hurt you?"
Those words slammed through me. He'd never asked that before. I felt a riot of emotions race through me, and I didn't know how to articulate what I needed to without getting angry. We were here to talk, and that meant I had to keep the raging bitch inside me quiet so I could speak coherently.
"I don't want you to think that's all our marriage has been…the bad stuff," I explained as I collected my thoughts.
"I know, Rose."
I angled my head toward one of the benches that were strewn around the beaches. We walked to it slowly and sat down with him on one side and me on the other, a small but deep distance between us.
"You stopped coming home after the kids left. It was as if your only interest in being home were Willow and Jude. I was not important."
I waited for him to comment or get defensive, but he just sat patiently, his eyes soft. I sat up straight and watched the soft flurry of the waves sweep across the sands.
"Whenever I tried to talk to you, you found it irritating. You were always too busy. I didn't want to be a nagging wife, but I feel like I became one."
"Never," he interjected. " Never , Rose."
I nodded sadly. "I felt the way I felt, and I can't change that."
"I understand."
He fell silent, and I sifted through all the things that I knew I had to say, but I wasn't sure how they'd land. I wanted him to understand why I left. Maybe it was defensive on my part, but I couldn't change that either.
"The last few years, it started to feel like Willow, Jude, and you were a family, and I was just the maid who cooked and cleaned. When I said something, Willow ignored me, and Jude…ah…my baby talked to me like I was an embarrassment." I paused my hands in my coat, squeezing the material nervously. "You can't tell him that."
"I won't," he promised.
I looked down at my hands. "You never said anything. It was as if it was okay for him to speak to me the way he did. I always felt that you regretted marrying me, but these past few years, I started to believe it. I felt that you thought I wasn't good enough to be your wife, to be married to a Rutherford." I chuckled in self-deprecation. "Mama Rutherford said it often enough. I worked hard, so very hard, Gray, to be a good wife. I learned to cook and pair wine so that no one would say the trailer trash didn't know her chardonnay from her sauvignon blanc."
I closed my eyes because it was becoming harder and harder to tell him what was inside my heart, to show him my pain.
"You have always been an amazing wife," he said softly. "It's my fault that you didn't feel it. It's my fault that I didn't tell you, show you."
I swallowed and opened my eyes. I didn't look at him. Couldn't .
Since I left, I thought Gray and the kids, too, would blame me. But they blamed themselves, as did Gray. I didn't know what to make of it.
"You always say my money. I earn. It's my inheritance." I turned to face him now. "You and your mother always made sure I understood that I had no rights. She threw that prenuptial agreement at me, as did you."
"Everything I have is ours ," he immediately said. "The fact that I didn't say that is…fuck…Rose, that's my fault. I'm nothing without you. I couldn't have built my company without you."
"I feel like you're lying to me now, to maybe even yourself, because you don't want to be divorced," I confessed. "And that drives me crazy because I don't understand why you want to keep me. You've behaved for a while like…well, like you'd be happy to see me go."
His jaw tightened. "You know, you're right. I kept thinking I was so lucky to have a wife like you—I never tried to know if you thought you were lucky to have a husband like me. When I talked to people around me after you left, I found out that everyone thinks I'm bangin' my assistant and wanted you to leave."
I sniffled. "I don't think you were sleepin' with Aimee, but I did wonder if you wanted me to leave 'cause you knew if you asked me to leave, you'd have to give me money."
"I should've torn up that fucking prenuptial agreement years ago," he muttered. "Rose, consider it fucking void."
"What?"
"Yeah, there's no prenuptial agreement. If we get divorced by Georgia law, there will be an equitable distribution of marital assets. Trust me, a good lawyer can get you half of everything. Actually, how about this? If we do get divorced, I'll give you half of everything, including my inheritance, the company, and—"
"I don't want your money," I cried out.
" Our money, Rose. It's our fucking money. Listen to me. I'm not sayin' this because you left; I'm sayin' this because it's the truth. I can't defend the asshole I was when I was young…hell, babe, I can't even defend the grown-up asshole I've been, but money is not between us."
He seemed so sincere, I wanted to believe him; a part of me did believe him.
"I don't know what to say."
"I wish you'd give me a chance."
"To do what?"
"To make it right. To make you love me again. To make you trust me again. For us to be a family again." He moved to sit closer to me and took my hands in his. "I'm fuckin' lost without you. I can't breathe. I can't stay in that house, not without you."
There was a tremor in his voice, and I saw tears in his eyes in the moonlight.
"I can't go back," I whimpered. "Gray…I…wanted to die."
He pulled me to him and hugged me. "I know, babe. I know. I'm so sorry."
He was apologizing, saying all the things I could ever want him to say, but they were still just words. The familiar ache of old wounds made my heart heavy.
He pulled away to look at me. "Please don't hate me…more than you already do."
"Gray, I could never hate you," I vowed. " Never ."
"You may after I tell you what I did."
I was almost afraid to hear it. Had he slept with Aimee? Someone else? What did he do?
"I went through your phone."
Say what?
"The one you left at home," he continued. "I…snooped."
I nodded, still not sure why he thought I'd hate him for that.
"I read the emails you sent to Dr. Mercer."
It took me a moment to contextualize what he was saying, and when I did, I gasped. I tried to pull my hands from his, but he wouldn't let me.
"Is that what this is all about? Did you tell the kids? Are you all here because you think I'm goin' to kill myself?" I couldn't keep my voice down. I was humiliated and angry. They were not here because they loved me. Jude wasn't making nice because he was sorry. They knew about my suicidal ideation, and they—
"Stop," Gray said sternly, "Stop going down that fuckin' rabbit hole, Rose. The kids and I were already going to fight to get you back before I even knew about those emails, okay?"
I tried again to wrench my hands away. Fury making me deaf to his words.
"Rose," he was gentle but stern. "Babe, listen to me. I know, and what that told me wasn't that you were some frail woman at the edge of having a nervous breakdown; it told me that you were a strong, badass woman who'd walked away from the people you loved because they weren't respecting you. A strong, wonderful woman who is the sole caregiver of her friend who is dyin'. A strong, amazing woman who has been growing a B&B business for years without ever telling anyone or taking any credit for it."
Okay, so all those strong, amazing, badass woman compliments did get through to me. I was hungry for acceptance and validation, and to get it from Gray and the kids was exhilarating. It also was un-freakin’-believable!
I calmed myself down and looked out at the water, letting him hold my cold hands in his warm ones, and watched the moonlight dance on the waves.
"Gray," I began after a long moment, my voice steadier than I felt. "I appreciate your apology. I think it's sincere. But there's more to it than just what you did or didn't do. I played a role too. For a long time, I didn't feel safe or comfortable expressing my needs. I became a part of the scenery of our lives, not a participant."
"I see that now," he said quietly. "And I'm so sorry for making you feel that way."
I sighed, sadness and relief swirling within me. I turned to face him, letting him see where I stood. "Thank you for saying that. I need some time to understand all of this, to understand myself beyond being your wife and a mother. I'm just now beginning to figure out who I am on my own."
Gray brought one hand to my face and stroked my cheek gently. "Can we keep talking? Not just tonight, but maybe tomorrow and the day after?"
The sincerity in his voice was evident, and I nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. "We can keep talking," I agreed.