Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Cole
W illa was quiet on the ride home, and I was stuck in an endless thought loop.
Did I say something wrong?
Did I do something wrong?
Is this vest totally ridiculous?
While it was more likely I’d done something dumb, I was beginning to blame the vest. Sure, the flowers and fancy night out were overkill. But as I discussed with Dr. Gleeson during my session yesterday, I had been struggling to find the words to express my feelings to Willa.
Hell, I couldn’t even wrap my head around them all. Emotions I’d never experienced. That I didn’t know even existed. As I was learning in therapy, I was terrified of saying the wrong thing and ruining something so incredible.
For the most part, the night had been perfect. There had been moments when it felt like it was only the two of us in the bar. I’d only had water. Hell, I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since our wedding night. I didn’t need it. I felt giddy being there with her. Touching her and whispering with her and experiencing a place I’d been to a million times in a new way.
With the moon so bright over the lake, I had the perfect idea. “Wanna go throw some rocks?” I asked, trying to draw her out, as I parked in front of the cabin.
She shook her head. “I’m going to take these clothes off.”
I wanted to offer to do it for her, but considering how quiet she’d been and how I hadn’t been able to pull her out of her shell, I couldn’t help but feel that would not be welcome.
So I followed her into the cottage, wishing I had the words to fix whatever I’d broken, and hung up my coat.
My instinct was to head to my room and avoid the discomfort altogether, hoping that, by morning, it would have blown over. But if I did that, I’d be pulling away, putting distance between us instead of closing the gap.
“Willa,” I said softly.
She looked up, her face drawn.
“I’d really like to talk about tonight.”
“Sure.”
I paced the kitchen, rolling up my shirtsleeves, as she stood with her hands clasped in front of her. It felt almost impossible to open my mouth. But looking at her beautiful face, I knew I had to do it.
“Before… when I was with Lila,” I started, fighting like hell to get the words out, regardless of how awkward they felt, “if things didn’t feel right, I’d retreat. Ignore the problem. You and I were having such an amazing time tonight, but then you went away. And if I did something—”
“No,” she interrupted, lifting her chin. “You didn’t do anything.”
I stepped up close and pulled her against my body. “Then where’d you go?” I asked, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.
She hugged me back, the small act instantly easing a little of my fear. “I’m embarrassed,” she said into my chest.
I pulled back, placing my hands on her shoulders.
“Why?” I asked, throat thick. “Is it the vest?”
She laughed, the sound watery. “ No . I love the vest.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes. Love . I’ve had a hard time focusing on anything but it all night. If I had my way, you’d wear a vest every day, even when doing mundane tasks.”
I stroked her cheek. “Then I’ll make sure to wear it while folding laundry tomorrow. But why are you embarrassed?”
She dipped her chin. “This is so dumb.”
“Nothing is dumb. I care about you, and I want to understand how you’re feeling. I’ve done so many things wrong in my life, and I’m still figuring out why in therapy, but I want to do this right. So if you’re willing to talk, I want to listen.”
Instead of responding, she buried her face in my chest.
I took a deep breath, telling myself I could handle whatever she was feeling. Even if it meant she didn’t feel the way I did.
“I got jealous,” she said softly, her voice muffled by my vest. “Of that girl at the bar.”
The admission was like a physical blow. Jealous?
“Of Aspen?” I asked? Frowning, I carefully replayed the interaction. It had been friendly, not flirty.
“Yes. She’s beautiful. And the way she was looking at you and touching you made me so mad.” Her face was red, and she was clenching the fabric of my shirt and vest at my sides. “She was totally flirting with you. Lusting after my husband.”
I smiled. When she called me her husband in that possessive way, all my primal instincts were unleashed. I stood taller and pulled her closer, palming her ass. “Now you know how I feel every day.”
“No,” she scoffed. “It’s more than that. Seeing her speak to you and the way you looked together made me feel insecure and silly.” She stepped back, putting distance between us and crossing her arms.
Fuck. This was not good.
“We’re married, sure, but we were drunk and making stupid decisions. Now you’re stuck with me. I was feeling so good about us, but then I saw her and realized that she’s the kind of woman you should be with, and then I started to feel awful.”
My stomach lurched. “Stuck with you? You believe that?”
She was pacing now. All I wanted was to kiss her to shut her up and make her never feel this way again, but she was on a roll. “I want to be above petty jealousy. I want to be above being hurt when pretty girls flirt with you. But I was so mad. And then I felt like an overdressed idiot at a bar on a cold Saturday night.”
“You look gorgeous,” I insisted, stepping toward her. “And let me be very clear. I am not stuck with you. Marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
She stopped and dropped her arms to her sides. “Cole,” she said, her voice so fragile and sad.
Pain lanced my chest. Shit, I had to fix this.
“Look at my phone,” I said, pulling the device from my pocket. Once I’d unlocked it, I handed it over. “Go to my photos.”
She picked it up, eyeing me skeptically.
“Now click on the album titled Wifey .”
Head lowered, she tapped the screen a few times, and then her eyes widened. Slowly, she scrolled through the photos. Even more slowly, recognition dawned on her face.
“You took all these photos of me?”
“Yeah.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I realize it’s creepy. We can unpack that later. But sometimes I look at you, and you’re just so damn beautiful. I want to remember the way you looked in that moment forever, so I take a picture.”
She kept scrolling, past photos of her reading on her Kindle, throwing rocks, and doing yoga. Photos of the two of us hiking and one of her posing in front of the Zamboni at the rink.
“Then I put the photos into this album, and any time I feel like a complete loser or a waste of space, I look through them and remember that you married me. Even if you never love me like I love you, and even if this ends in a few months, I’ll always look back at these photos and know that though it might have only been a blip in time, there was a point in my life where I did something right.”
“Cole.” She looked up, her eyes misting. “There are so many.”
I shrugged. “I may fail at everything else. But I am going to work hard every day to be the best damn husband I can be for as long as you’ll have me. I want you fiercely. And I want a future with you. But I have to earn it. And I will if you give me a chance.”
She jumped into my arms and kissed me hard. Heart thumping wildly, I pushed her up against the wall and kissed her back with just as much passion.
This. This is what I’ve always needed.