Chapter 33
Lauralee
I sweep up the pieces of my shattered heart and toss them back into my chest, hoping somehow, someday, I can glue them back together. Until then, I sit on the couch, not sure what to do or think. I don’t know how to feel anything other than numb or pain. Both are excruciating right now.
The manila envelope whispers my name, calling me to open it.
But I know better than to fall for this trick.
Whatever is in there will only blur the lines, and I’m already confused enough.
As much as Baylor wants me to forgive him, I can’t.
Not yet. Not without sorting through the information of what I know and what I feel.
Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to consider his side of the story before figuring out what’s best for me. I was denied that right with my dad. I can’t allow the cycle to repeat.
As the last of the day disappears, the room darkens around me.
Music can’t help, and the TV will only distract me.
I need to lie in my feels. I tuck my hands under my cheek, but the ring scrapes across the skin.
Holding up my hand, I realize even night can’t break the shine it brings.
I’m mad that I love these rings as much as I do .
I don’t know how much they cost, the carat size, or how to insure them.
I just know how they make me feel. Loved because he chose them for me.
“What am I going to do?” Divorce him? Make him wait forever?
Give him one more chance to make this right and promise he’ll never hide anything from me again?
Can he? Or is he lying to himself as well?
I want to believe him so badly that my heart aches that he might be suffering.
Even when rationale tells me he should. I don’t need revenge.
I need him to trust me enough to share everything.
That’s what partners do, but he keeps me in the dark until outside light shines in, exposing another lie .
. . an omission. Whatever we want to call it. They hurt the same.
Despite what happened earlier, I haven’t closed the door on him yet. I can still feel him in the air around me like he’s near. I don’t dare check to see if the car is here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were.
My eyes grow heavy from the exhaustion of fighting a losing battle. I give in, hoping tomorrow brings me the answers I need to map a new course, whether that be with him or traveling solo.
The sound of rain against the window drags me from sleep. I’m slow to open my eyes. I don’t know the time, but my body doesn’t feel like morning is on the horizon. God, I hope not. I’ll be dragging all day if it is.
Lying here, I roll onto my back. Do I fight for more sleep or accept my fate that I’m wide awake? I wonder if Baylor’s having more luck. I roll my eyes. He’s probably sleeping like a baby without a care in the world. Irritation clusters in my chest, although my gut doesn’t believe a word I say.
Deep down, I know he would never hurt me.
I can’t remain the consequence of the poor decisions he’s making.
I need to be a consideration from the start.
Can he do that? Is it even possible? He’s been a bachelor for so long that he’s never had to consider anyone else or their feelings.
I know he’s trying. For me, he is. So am I expecting too much change too fast?
I put my feet down on the floor to sit up. Rubbing the corners of my eyes and wiping the sleep away, I start to wonder what part of my life I’ve given up for him.
He’s never once asked me to give up anything and stepped in without asking when he thought I needed help.
He visits more often because he knows I can’t leave the shop unattended, making it harder on his schedule.
He doesn’t ask me to sacrifice anything for us to be together, carrying it all on his shoulders to make us work.
Dammit. Now I feel bad.
What if he was being honest? What if he didn’t know about the rent increase?
Or . . . I pause, not sure I’m ready to accept this truth.
I say it anyway. “What if he married me for love?” What if he married me without strings attached?
Would he have truly stood in the courthouse to exchange I dos with no other intentions but to love me forever?
Time is making me feel worse instead of better.
I get up and get a glass of water. Standing at the sink, I drink, hoping it keeps the headache I’m getting at bay. When I lower the glass, my gaze goes to the coffee table and that large envelope he left behind, which has the answers he said I’m looking for.
I take another sip, debating if I even want to open that can of worms. What if it just upsets me more? Setting the glass down, I take a chance, praying I won’t be more disappointed.
Grabbing the envelope, I switch on the small lamp next to the TV, then slide down the wall between the door and the TV stand. With my butt planted firmly on the floor, I bend the brads and lift the flap. I dig my hand inside and pull out one of the papers. A photo.
A sob escapes the moment I turn it over and see us from our wedding day. The image blurs through the watery tears as they collect on my eyelashes. I blink to clear them, but they decide to fall down my cheeks instead. Staring at the photo, I’m left without words, and any lingering anger dissipates.
This is the moment I felt closest to him. Not during the vows, though those will always hold a special place in my heart. Not when we kissed. Not even the world of possibilities I felt when we were running down the courthouse steps.
It was at this moment that I knew he was my soulmate.
The good.
The bad.
The ugly.
The beautiful.
All of it tied in a neat package of heart and flowers, love and commitment. I knew standing next to him that no matter what life threw at us, he’d love me through it. And I’d love him no matter what.
I’m not asking for more than he can give, but I won’t accept less.
I set the photo on top of the envelope beside my legs and reach up. Turning the knob, I send him falling flat on his back next to me when the door releases. “Ow!”
Rain sprays from his soaked body. Rushing to my knees, I bend over him, a breath away, inspecting for any damage. “Are you okay?”
He rubs the back of his head. “Not sure. Am I still in hell?”
I smile bef ore remembering I’m supposed to be mad at him. “Not sure but you’re out of the doghouse. For now. Why are you still out there when it’s pouring rain? Trying to get sick and leave me widowed?”
He grins, resting his head on the floor and staring at me. “Truth?”
Sitting back on my knees, I warn him with a raised eyebrow. “It better be.”
Smart enough to take me seriously, he replies, “I fell asleep leaning against the door. The rain woke me up about forty-five minutes ago.”
“But you stayed instead of getting in your car or driving to the ranch?” I start to stand, picking up the papers and photo so they don’t get ruined, and set them back on the coffee table. Turning back to him, I offer him a hand up.
“I told you I’d wait.” He takes hold of my hand, and for a split second, I think he’s going to pull me to him.
He doesn’t, and though I’m relieved since I don’t want to be soaked by the water puddling around him or his wet hair and clothes, a bit of disappointment also shoots through my veins.
“I wasn’t going to break that promise after everything else. ”
When he stands, my heartbeat quickens just like it always does for him. He asks, “How did you know I was outside the door?”
“I didn’t. But I felt like you might be, so I took a chance.” Distracted by the way his wet shirt clings to the muscles in his chest and wraps around his biceps, I say, “I’ll get you a towel.”
I get two and take two seconds to catch my breath.
Am I ready to forgive him? Or am I only open to hearing him out?
I feel caught between the two, so I head back out instead of standing in the bathroom, overanalyzing the situation.
“Here you go,” I say, handing him one while I bend to dry the floor .
“Thanks.”
I leave the towel down to absorb any rain I missed, then return to the kitchen for another sip of water as cover to shamelessly ogle him from the darker recesses of the apartment like a total creeper. But shame doesn’t infiltrate my body. I have a right to appreciate my husband all I want.
It’s not giving in if I want this to work. And as much as I am madly attracted to this man, his actions will win my heart back. “I saw the photo.”
“It’s great, right?” His smile is heartfelt, giving me the comfort I felt standing next to him when the picture was taken.
“It is. I love it.”
“Me, too,” he adds quietly.
“I—”
“I—”
We both start but laugh easily about it. I say, “You go first.”
“No, it’s okay. You can go first.”
Leaning my hips against the counter, I look at him, wanting to see the worst in him, but I can’t find it. “I can’t take any more lies, not even by omission. So if you have something else hidden from me or other secrets, fess up now.”
“There’s nothing else.” He stands there looking at me with that handsome face and his heart on his sleeve. “Except?—”
“Oh God.” I squeeze the glass in my hand, bracing myself. “What now?”
“I was going to tell you tonight.”
Setting the glass down, I throw out my arms in defeat. “Now’s as good a time as ever. ”
“I was going to surprise you, but I think it’s best if I don’t.” I wait eagerly but try to act casual like I’m unshakable at this point. “There’s a piece of property, the one we stopped at that time when Deputy McCall pulled up behind us.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I ask, “Have you already purchased it?”
“No. I wanted your thoughts on it first since it would be yours as well.”
I want to hate him, but I can’t. “What do you mean as well?”