Chapter Twenty-Three #2
But, as I stare at my wife crying, I hate that I had to make her feel like this. I hate that I've had to make her cry so much. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for every tear.
"Atlas, oh God—honey.”
The wet cheeks and agonized look on her face feel like a kick to my throat. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to do that. Oh, my God. Silas... I should have known—I should have seen—honey... honey, why did I not see—"
"Because I didn't let you see, Wendy," I tell her, my voice firm so she understands. "I couldn't even see it myself."
"How did I not notice?" She whispers to herself, but I answer anyway.
"My mental health is my responsibility, Wendy. Not yours. And I didn't let you in. I couldn't let you in."
Her brow furrows, and she protests, looking angry at herself. "But I was your wife—"
"Yes, my wife, and you did what you could—you tried," I cut in. "You asked me. You scheduled therapy. You did what a partner does. I didn't hold up my end... I'm sorry."
She shakes her head, but I gently shush her.
"Wendy, I told you I would tell you in person.
I feel stronger now, not... not completely there, but I feel better than I did a month ago.
So, I want to say this, from the bottom of my heart.
I am sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you.
I am so sorry for neglecting you, for disrespecting you, for pulling away from you.
I am so sorry for leaving you to parent our sons on your own. "
"No, Atlas, you don't need to...I—"
Her face crumbles and she shakes her head, and this is something that always bothered me about Wendy: the guilt her mother instilled in her just by existing. Like it was her fault for being born, so she felt the need to apologize when she wasn't in the wrong. "I hurt you by filing."
"No, you saved me by filing," I tell her, and she blinks, tilting her head in confusion. "I was dying a slow death. You saved me, Wendy. Do you understand that? You saved me."
After hesitating, she nods and sniffles. I grab tissues from the box on the table and hand them to her, watching as she wipes her nose and eyes.
My hands twitch, wishing I could just reach out, brush the tears away with my thumbs and kiss the tracks.
"I'm so tangled up, Atlas," she admits, glancing down at her lap. "I feel awful for you. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I'm so sorry, honey..."
I nod, encouragingly.
"But, I'm—"
"Still hurt," I finish for her.
She nods.
"I didn't... I don't want you to feel like my mental illness just excuses everything away—because it doesn't. I...a-a..." I stutter, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. When I open the, I say clearly, "I abused you—"
Wendy looks horrified, "No, Atlas—"
"Yes, Wendy, baby—yes, I did. I did. I gaslit you. I neglected you and our sons for an entire year. I hurt you. And I'm going to keep saying it until I've earned your trust and forgiveness. I am sorry."
She closes her eyes, another tear trailing down her cheek, before she nods.
"Thank you," she whispers, opening her eyes to meet mine. "So, what now, Atlas?"
Inhale, hold, exhale.
"I continue therapy. You and the boys continue therapy," I hesitate before asking, "Would... do you think they would be comfortable with me attending family therapy with you guys?"
She thinks about it for a long moment.
"I would be okay with it—I think it would be good for us—but I'll ask Liam and Noah. They finally feel more comfortable going, I want them to keep feeling safe."
The mother of my children, pride flows through me for my wife.
"Thank you. And then..." the next words threaten to choke me, but I push them out. There's too much on the line. "I would like to... if you are open to it... trying couples therapy again."
Her mouth opens slightly if she didn't expect that, and then her expression goes guarded, eyes dropping to her lap and eyes flicking left and right. Hurt flashes across her expression, and I feel it like a physical ache.
"I know I let you down," I say immediately, and she raises her eyes to meet mine.
"I know I purposefully let you down with that appointment, but—I am completely committed now, Wendy.
And I know it's selfish of me to ask on my timeline, but.
.. I want to go to couples therapy with you. I want to fix what I broke. Please... "
Wendy frowns, looking away for a long moment, and I hold my breath.
"I'm leaning toward yes," she admits, and I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my excitement. "I think it could be good for us—even if it's just to figure out how to co-parent... but, I'm going to keep the separation..."
I smile broadly. "Good, I want you to."
She blinks. “...really?"
I nod and hold my hands out, palm up, between us. Letting her decide, giving her control. She looks at them, her face so hopeful it hurts.
Slowly, like she's waiting for me to rip my hands away, she places her shaky hands in mine. I close my fingers around them, and she exhales choppily, my own mirroring it.
Her eyes meet mine, glimmering with unshed tears.
"I gave you a year of bad—I know it's because of what happened with Silas, but I could have talked to you. I didn't. That was my choice. I'm fixing it now, but I still owe you a year of good. Let me earn back your trust. Let me earn back your love."
Wendy studies me, green eyes peering into mine, before she nods.
Going for broke, I lean down and press a lingering kiss on the back of each of her hands. Her scent hits me so hard I feel dizzy, and I rub the soft skin with my thumbs.
When I look back up at her, she's smiling at me. The love I hold for this woman spreads through my body, and I'm powerless, returning the smile just as broadly.
When the moment breaks, she takes her cellphone out and sighs. "I have to go pick up Liam."
"Let me walk you out," I say, and she grins, both of us standing and walking toward the front.
It’s started snowing again, and I frown at the roads, seeing that they're covered in a blanket of white. She should be home in time before it gets bad, but I worry about salting and shovelling.
"Do you need me to—" I can't help but offer, but she gently cuts me off.
"Liam already offered to shovel," she smiles, shaking her head with a laugh. "It's one of his chores that he claimed."
I nod, smiling despite the ache in my chest.
Liam. The man of the house now.
I'm gonna fix this Liam. I'm gonna fix what I broke, with your mom, with your brother, and with you.
"Drive safe, baby.”
"I will," she promises, before zipping her coat against the cold and walking outside.
I stay at the door watching her walk toward her car parked in the driveway.
I always loved how snow muted the world, just turned down the volume, a peaceful stillness.
Wendy stops halfway down the stone path before turning around. The sight knocks the air from my lungs. My wife's coat and hair are a shock of red against the white of the snow.
Then she smiles at me.
"Atlas..." she says, looks at me for a long moment before she gives me a shy grin. "You never lost my love."
My heart stutters and then kicks like a fucking drum.
"Yeah?"
Her smile widens and throws my own words from the letter back at me.
"Not for a single second."