Chapter 30 Sean #2
"How long will the divorce take?" she asks, her voice carefully neutral, still not looking at me. "I know it's more complicated now that we've... since we slept together."
I feel as if I’ve been punched. It takes me a moment to get the words out. "I didn't ask for one.”
She stops, a sweater halfway to the suitcase, and turns to stare at me. "What?"
"I didn't ask for a divorce."
"But..." She's looking at me like she doesn't understand, like I'm speaking a foreign language. "That's what you wanted. You said—"
"I know what I said." I step into the room, and she takes a step back, still holding that sweater. "At first, yes. That's what I wanted. But I didn't know who you were then."
"Sean—"
"You're strong," I say, speaking as quickly as I can, while I have the chance to.
"You're intelligent and capable, and you tried so fucking hard to be a good wife to a man who didn't deserve it.
You could have made my life hell, but you didn't. You tried to make this work even when I was doing everything I could to push you away. "
She's shaking her head, backing up until she hits the dresser. "Don't. Not now—"
"I haven't been a good husband to you. I know that. I've been cold and cruel, and I've hurt you in ways I can't take back. But I want to try, Maeve. If you'll let me, I want to try to be the husband you deserve. I—"
"Sean, stop—"
"I want to treat you the way you should be treated. I want to build you up every day, encourage you, support you. I want to do better. I want to love you the way I—"
"Do you?" The words come out sharp and angry, her expression suddenly pinched. "Do you really love me, Sean? Or is this just guilt talking?"
The question stops me cold. This isn’t how I wanted to tell her I loved her. I pictured it differently, on the way back. More romantic, I suppose, even though I wouldn’t know romance if it hit me in the face. But I didn’t want it to be an argument.
After everything I’ve done, though, I suppose it couldn’t have been anything else.
"I don't know," I admit. "I'm not sure I know what love is. I've never loved anyone before. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like."
Something flickers across her face, a pained expression. She looks saddened. Disappointed. My chest gets that feeling again, as if my ribs are going to crack.
"But I know what I feel for you," I continue quickly, before she can speak again.
"I know that when I thought Brennan might kill you, I felt like I was dying.
I know that when I see you smile, something in my chest gets tight.
I know that I think about you constantly, that I want to make you happy, that the thought of you leaving makes me feel like I'm being torn apart.
If that's not love, then I don't know what other word to use for it. I don’t know what love is, but this… this feels like it."
For a moment, I think maybe I've reached her. Her expression softens, and I think maybe she's going to say yes, that she'll stay, she'll give me a chance.
Then her face hardens again, as if she’s remembered how things were before, and I know I've lost.
"It's too late," she says, her voice is shaking. "You don't get to do this now, Sean. You don't get to say these things after everything you've said to me before."
"Maeve—"
"No." She holds up a hand, and there are angry tears in her eyes now. "You made me feel like I was nothing. Like I was a punishment you had to endure. You told me you didn't want me. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"
"I was wrong—"
"You broke my heart!" The words come out as a shout, and she bursts into tears. I want to go to her, to pull her into my arms, but I know that wouldn’t be well-received in this moment, no matter how much it makes me ache to see her cry like this.
"Over and over again, you broke my heart.
Every time I tried to get close to you, every time I thought maybe we were making progress, you pushed me away.
You made it clear that I was unwanted, that I was a burden, that you wanted to be free of me. "
"I know. I know I did, and I'm sorry—"
"Sorry isn't enough!" She's shaking now, her hands clenched into fists. "I can't do this again, Sean. I can't let you in just so you can change your mind and push me away again. I can't survive that. I can’t lose someone else that I—"
"I won't change my mind—"
"You don't know that! You just said yourself you don't even know what love is. What happens when you figure out that what you feel for me isn't love after all? What happens when you decide you made a mistake? What happens when you wake up one day and realize you want out?"
I shake my head fiercely. "That's not going to happen—"
"You don't know that!" She's shouting again, and she grabs another handful of clothes, shoving them into the suitcase.
"I won't be someone's obligation, Sean. I won't be someone's second choice. I won't be the wife you settled for because you felt guilty about how you treated me. You taught me I’m worth more than being shoved into a corner and treated as if I’m disposable.
Now you get to live with the consequences of me finding a backbone. "
She slams the suitcase shut, and panic floods through me. She's leaving. She's actually leaving, and I'm losing her, and I don't know how to stop it.
"Maeve, please—"
"I need to go.” Her voice breaks. "I need you to arrange a flight home for me. I need to leave before I do something stupid like believe you."
She clicks the locks on the suitcase, and it feels final. Something inside of me shatters, slicing into my cold, dead heart.
"Don't." The word comes out broken, desperate. "Please don't go."
She pauses, her back to me, but she doesn't turn around.
I've never begged for anything in my life. I've never let anyone see me as weak, never let anyone see me break. But I'm breaking now, and I don't care who sees it.
"I know I don't deserve you.” My voice is shaking. "I know I've been a bastard and a coward, and I've hurt you in ways I can't easily fix. I know I've given you every reason to walk out that door and never look back."
She still doesn't turn around, but she's not moving either. She’s gone very still, her knuckles white from where she’s gripping her luggage.
"I was scared," I continue, and the words are coming faster now, more desperate.
"I was scared of what I was feeling for you, scared of letting you in, scared of what it would mean if I admitted that I needed you.
So I pushed you away. I said terrible things, things I didn't mean, because I thought if I could make you hate me, it would be easier. "
"Easier for who?" Her voice is quiet, but I can hear the pain in it.
"For me. For both of us. I thought if I kept you at a distance, if I made sure you knew this was just an arrangement, then when it didn’t become anything more it wouldn't hurt so much.
" I take a step toward her, then another.
"But it was already too late. You'd already gotten under my skin, into my heart, and I was too much of a coward to admit it. "
She turns around slowly, and the look on her face breaks me. She's crying, her eyes red and swollen. It’s my fault, I think, a fist squeezing my heart. This time, I'm the one who hurt her.
“I should never have felt like you were a punishment,” I say, my voice cracking. “You were a gift I didn't deserve, and I was too stupid and too scared to see it. When I said I didn't want you, I was lying. I wanted you so badly it terrified me.”
"Sean—" She swallows hard, her lips pressing together until they’re nothing but a thin, pale line.
"I'm not good at this. I'm not good at feelings or emotions that aren’t anger and hate. I've spent my whole life being the Wolf, being a killer, a man who doesn't feel anything. But you make me feel everything, and it scares the shit out of me."
I'm right in front of her now, close enough to touch, but I don't. Not until I know she wants me to.
"I know I said terrible things to you. I know I made you feel unwanted, unloved, like you were a burden.
I know I hurt you, and I know sorry isn't enough to fix that. But I need you to know that every time I pushed you away, it was because I was scared of how much I wanted you close. Every time I hurt you it was because I was afraid of getting hurt. I want to make that right, Maeve. I want to show you that I—”
She shakes her head. "You can't just say these things and expect me to forget—"
"I'm not asking you to forget." I drop to my knees in front of her, and her eyes go wide.
I've never knelt for anyone in my life, but if it means I can keep her, I’d crawl. I’d grovel. I’d go to the ends of the fucking earth.
"I'm asking you to give me a chance to make it right. I'm asking you to let me prove that I can be the husband you deserve. I’m asking you to give us a chance, now that Brennan is gone, now that I’ve chosen to be here. I’m asking you to choose to be here too, long enough for us to try."
She makes a small noise. "Sean, get up—"
I shake my head, my voice hoarse. "I know I don't deserve another chance. I know I've used up all my chances and then some. But I'm begging you, Maeve. I'm on my knees begging you to stay, to give me one more chance to show you that I can be better. That I will be better."
I watch her. Every muscle in her body is tense, like she might bolt at any moment. Her eyes are wary, but there's something else there too. Something that looks like a fragile, tenuous hope.
"I mean it," I say quietly. "I'm not letting you go. Not this time."
Maeve takes a deep breath. "How do I know you won't change your mind? How do I know this isn't just another way you'll hurt me?"
Her voice breaks on the last word. It cuts through me like a knife. "I can't promise I'll be perfect. But I promise I'll try. Every single day."
Maeve looks at me, and I can feel the moment she wavers. The moment she sees my face, the pleading on it, the need, the love, and believes me.
She sinks down to her knees in front of me, one hand reaching out to touch my face. “A chance,” she whispers. “Don’t push me away again, Sean. I’m not the scared girl you married. I won’t let you hurt me just because you’re afraid to feel something. You have to be brave, just like I was.”
I reach up, covering her hand with mine. “For you,” I murmur, “I think I can be brave.”
She leans forward then, and kisses me. When her mouth touches mine, it feels like heaven. Like coming home. She tastes sweet as honey, and my hands come up to cup her face, turning her so that I spill her down onto the floor beneath me.
There’s nothing slow about what I do next.
It’s tender and desperate all at once, as I thank every god I don’t believe in that she’s wearing a dress.
I push the skirt up her thighs, spreading them apart as she arches beneath me.
I’m already hard just from her mouth on mine, and I free my cock with one swift motion, wrapping one hand around myself as I guide myself to her entrance.
She’s slick and hot, welcoming me in as I push the tip inside of her, and I groan, savoring every inch as I sink into her until my hips are pressed to hers. For a long moment, I just hold myself there, feeling the heat of her, the sensation of being enveloped in the woman I love.
“I need this,” I whisper against her mouth. “I need you. I love you, Maeve. I didn’t know what it felt like before… but it feels like this.”
I thrust into her, as slowly as I can, my body shuddering as she clenches around me. Her hands thread through my hair, her mouth finding mine again, and she whispers against my lips as I sink into her.
“I love you too, Sean. I was afraid of it too… but I love you. I know that now.”
I draw it out for as long as I can, there on the bedroom floor, with her arms and legs wrapped around me and her mouth crushed against mine.
I fuck her in long, slow strokes until she comes for me, quivering around my cock as she drenches me with her arousal, and then I shove her dress up, pulling out as I spill myself over her smooth, flat stomach, marking her as mine.
My love. My wife. My Maeve.
And now that I’ve found the courage to love her, I’m never going to let her go.