Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
RHYAN
Last night was a lot—emotionally, physically, spiritually, almost. I was still drained from everything that happened between us: the arguing, the honesty, my grandparents, the sex, the vulnerability. It all sat heavy on me this morning.
At some point, Chauncey finally drifted off, but I know he barely slept. Every time I half-woke during the night, his arms were still wrapped around me, like he was scared I’d disappear before sunrise.
Truthfully, I still had so much I wanted to say to him—questions, fears, reassurance—but none of it would come out right now anyway.
Because either way…
I’m leaving in an hour.
The smell of food pulled me out of my thoughts completely. I opened my eyes slowly and blinked toward the tray sitting across my lap: waffles, eggs, turkey bacon, fresh fruit, orange juice on the side.
Damn.
I looked across the room and found Chauncey sitting back in the recliner near the window, just watching me quietly. No phone in his hand. No TV on. Just me.
“Good morning, Chauncey.” I laughed softly. “You know it’s rude to stare and not speak.”
“Chill,” he smirked low. “I’m just admiring my view.”
Lord.
I looked down at the breakfast tray again, trying not to smile too hard.
“Really? Breakfast in bed?” I teased. “Seems like you’re trying to get fucking rid of me.”
Chauncey lowered the recliner and stood up so fast he didn’t even want to joke about that. He walked over slowly, cupped my face in both hands, and kissed me deep enough to shut me up instantly.
That kiss didn’t feel sexual this time.
It felt scared.
He pulled back slowly and rested his forehead against mine for a second before finally speaking.
“Get rid of you?” His voice dropped lower. “Nah.”
I looked up at him quietly.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
There it is.
The truth.
His eyes searched mine like he was trying to memorize me all over again before I got on that jet.
“I’m scared you might not come back, honestly.”
That cracked something in me because Chauncey rarely admitted fear out loud.
“You built a life without me.”
Whew.
And there it was: the real wound underneath everything. Not just jealousy. Not just regret. Fear of replacement. Fear that while he was spiraling and self-destructing, I learned how to survive without needing him anymore.
And maybe that was what terrified him most.
Not that I stopped loving him.
But that I finally proved I could live without him if I had to.
“Since we are being honest…” I looked down at my plate for a second before meeting his eyes again. “I built a life without you, Chauncey. Not because I wanted to, but because I felt like I had to.”
That hit him immediately. I saw it all over his face.
“Umm,” he exhaled quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I pushed you into a life you didn’t have to build.”
His voice sounded heavier now. Honest, but shaken.
“My ego ruined us. I ain’t seen it then, but I see it now… and I’m paying for it.”
Damn. That was the part that hurt most—because he finally sounded like he meant it.
I don’t think Chauncey fully understood until now that his actions didn’t just damage our marriage; they also damaged our relationship. They forced me into survival mode. Forced me to evolve without him.
“In the midst of me building a new life,” I continued softly, “I had to heal in order for us to even get here.”
He stayed quiet, listening. Really listening.
“I had to keep pursuing my dream of being a nurse. I gave up so much of myself trying to be your wife.” My throat tightened a little saying it out loud. “And somewhere along the way… I found myself again.”
Whew.
That truth felt powerful as it left my mouth.
“While I was finding myself,” I admitted, “I prayed that eventually we’d find our way back to each other if we were meant to be together.”
Chauncey’s eyes softened instantly.
“I’m praying this time around is different for us.”
“It will be.” His answer came quickly. Certain. “That’s a promise I’m not willing to break.”
Lord.
I wanted to believe him so bad. Maybe that was the scariest part.
“I don’t wanna leave either,” I whispered honestly. “I wanna soak in this moment forever.” I glanced around our room quietly. “I’m scared.”
Chauncey grabbed my hand tighter.
“But I can’t abandon my obligations because of us. I need to leave my job properly. Put my notice in. Give them time to replace me.”
He nodded immediately in agreement. No arguing. No, trying to manipulate me into staying.
Growth.
“And what about your place?” he asked carefully.
“I own it.” I shrugged slightly. “I hadn’t really thought about selling it.”
He looked at me for a second too long before asking quietly: “You think you might need it?”
There it goes.
The fear again.
I set my fork down slowly and looked him dead in his eyes.
“Do you think I need it?”
Silence.
Because we both knew what I was really asking.
Do you think we're going to fail again?
“If I come back home,” I said firmly, “and we get to a place where we can’t be around each other…” I leaned closer. “You are leaving our home. Not me.”
It was way too early in the morning for me to be crying like this, but some things needed to be said out loud.
Not later.
Not eventually.
Now.
My eyes burned while tears slid down my cheeks quietly, and before I could even wipe them away, Chauncey leaned forward and brushed them away gently with his thumbs.
That somehow made it worse.
“I ain’t mean to make you cry,” he said softly.
I looked away because hearing sincerity from him still sometimes felt unfamiliar. Dangerous even. Like my heart wanted to trust it before my mind fully caught up.
“Right about now,” he continued quietly, “I know sorry ain’t enough.”
Silence settled between us again.
“Especially if it doesn’t mean anything without action.”
Whew.
That right there?
That’s emotional maturity.
Not begging. Not manipulation. Not grand speeches. Just acknowledgment. Ownership. Real change.
He let the silence breathe for a second before speaking again.
“You won’t need the spot in Dallas.”
I looked back at him immediately.
“You can keep it,” he clarified. “It’s yours for as long as you want it. Until you decide to part ways with it.” “And if we ever can’t make it work…” he added, “it stays yours. Either way, you won’t be left without a place.”
Honestly?
That meant more to me than if he demanded I sell it.
“But I promise to make our home a safe space for you. Always.” His voice stayed calm but firm. “I’mma stand on that until I leave this earth.”
Lord.
That line didn’t feel performative either. That’s what makes it hit. He’s not promising perfection anymore. He’s promising effort—safety, consistency, intention.
That’s a much more believable kind of redemption.
A beat passed between us before Chauncey exhaled and nudged the breakfast tray slightly toward me.
“Finish eating your food,” he muttered low. “It’s getting cold.”
And somehow that almost made me cry harder.
Because sometimes love doesn’t show up in dramatic declarations.
My food got cold, but Chauncey took it downstairs to warm it back up for me anyway. Small gestures like that used to go unnoticed, but now I pay attention to everything.
I finished eating quietly, my thoughts still heavy, but I was no longer second-guessing us. Whatever happened from this point forward mattered. Either way, we finally came to an understanding.
That alone gave me peace.
I slipped back into the shower one more time just to clear my mind before leaving. The hot water ran down my body while reality slowly settled in. In a few hours, I’d be back in Dallas. Back to work. Back to the life I built when I thought my marriage was beyond saving.
And somehow… leaving Chauncey this time felt harder than the first time I walked away from him, like this goodbye carried more weight.
It took Vince about forty-five minutes to drive us to the landing strip. The entire ride there, I stayed tucked beneath Chauncey’s arm while he buried his face against my neck, holding me like he was trying to memorize me before I disappeared again.
Neither one of us talked much.
We didn’t need to.
The Escalade finally rolled to a stop near the jet. The silence inside the truck got heavier instantly. Chauncey looked at me, then leaned over and kissed me softly before Vince opened the door.
We stepped out into the early morning air. I didn’t have any bags. Most of my things were already in Dallas.
Chauncey walked me toward the stairs of the private jet slowly, like every extra second mattered. Before I could step up, he pulled me against his body. I wrapped my arms around his neck while his fingers slid through my hair carefully, almost possessively.
Then he picked me up and carried me up the stairs himself.
Lord.
The closer it got to goodbye, the more my chest started hurting, because this felt too real to brush off.
Chauncey finally set me back down on my feet near the jet entrance. He stared at me for a second, biting down on his bottom lip while trying to hold himself together.
“You really finna leave me again.”
That “again” almost broke me. Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. Chauncey wiped them away gently with his thumbs.
“Why are you making me cry?” I laughed weakly through my tears. “This hard enough already.”
“I know.” His voice got lower. “But you are coming back.”
“I am.”
“I hear you.” he nodded slowly. “But if this shit hurt too bad, I’mma be there tomorrow… or the day after that.” He exhaled sharply. “Hell, if it hurt bad enough, I’ll be there tonight.”
That made me smile through my tears.
“I’m holding you to that.”
“I want you to.”
And with that, Chauncey kissed me as our lives depended on it. Deep. Desperate. Full of everything we still hadn’t figured out yet.
Then suddenly, he pulled away and jogged down the stairs before I could even say another word, leaving me standing there, drowning in my feelings.
The jet door closed behind me. Moments later, the stairs lifted from the runway. I could hear the engines preparing for takeoff when my phone suddenly rang from an unknown number. For a second, I just stared at it before answering.
I answered immediately.
“I love you, Rhyan Benyier.”
My chest tightened instantly at the sound of his voice.
“I love you too.”
“Don’t you ever forget that,” he murmured. “And stop crying, baby. I promise I’mma see you sooner than you think.”
A small smile pulled at my lips through the tears still sitting in my eyes.
“Lock me in. This is my new number.”
“Noted.”
Neither one of us rushed to hang up first.
Neither one of us rushed to hang up first. When the line between us finally went quiet, I held the phone a second longer before ending the call.
Wheels up.
Next stop… Dallas.