14. Luciana Creed #5
“We can keep trying, if that’s what you wanna do.”
“If that’s what I wanna do.” A hurtful chuckled escapes my mouth, followed by a tear slipping from the corner of my eye as I smiled through it. “That’s the problem.”
He just stared at me, not saying shit.
“I don’t think love is what’s missing anymore. I think we’ve both been trying to outrun something neither one of us can escape.”
The truth had finally been spoken out loud and neither one of us said anything for what seemed like forever, letting that truth process.
I reached for his hand one last time, holding it gently between both of mine.
“I love you more than I’ve ever loved another man.” My voice barely rose above a whisper. I lowered my eyes to our hands. “I probably always will, but I can’t ask you to choose between loving your daughter and protecting my feelings.”
I looked back up at him, deeply in his eyes.
“And I can’t keep pretending that watching the two of you together isn’t breaking me a little more every day.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
“Luciana…”
I slowly shook my head.
“I think it’s time we let each other go.”
The words settled between us, and for the longest time Maddox didn’t say anything. He just stood there looking at me, his eyes searching my face like he was hoping he’d find some sign that I didn’t mean any of it.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I knew this conversation was coming.”
The confession caught me off guard.
“You did?”
He nodded slowly before looking away.
“I just wasn’t ready to hear it.”
Silence settled over the kitchen again. The kind that only existed between two people who had loved each other for so long they no longer needed words to understand what the other was feeling.
“I meant what I said,” he finally admitted. “I still love you, Luciana, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you, either.”
A fresh wave of tears blurred my vision.
“I know.”
He let out a slow breath and dragged a hand across his jaw before looking back at me.
“When we started therapy, I kept telling myself time was gonna fix this. I thought if we kept showing up… if we kept talking… eventually we’d find our way back to each other.”
His laugh was low and broken.
“I wanted to believe that, but every session…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Every conversation… every new memory with Nylah… it reminded me of everything we lost.”
His eyes dropped to the floor.
“I kept waiting to wake up one morning and not feel angry anymore, but it never came.”
The words stole what little strength I had left.
“I know…”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t think you do.”
His eyes found mine again.
“I wasn’t trying to punish you in therapy. I was just trying to figure out if I knew how to be your husband again.”
A tear rolled down his cheek before he brushed it away.
“And I don’t know if I do.”
The truth hung in the air. Raw, painful and honest. He stepped a little closer, but this time he didn’t reach for me.
“I forgave you… I did.” He nodded. “I forgave you a long time ago, but forgiving what happened ain’t the same as forgetting what happened.”
I closed my eyes.
“You were right tonight.” His voice softened. “Some things don’t come back.”
Another tear slipped down my face as I mumbled, “And I hate that.”
“So do I…”
Neither one of us spoke for a while.
Finally, Maddox looked toward the ceiling where our boys—and his daughter—slept peacefully upstairs.
“I don’t want another woman,” he said as he looked back at me. I don’t want another family… I wanted this one.”
The words hit me square in the chest, damn near knocking the brother right out of me.
“So did I.”
He looked back at me, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I didn’t see anger. I didn’t even see disappointment. I saw… acceptance. The kind nobody ever prayed for.
“I think we’ve been holding on because we love each other.” He swallowed hard. “But love ain’t been the thing hurting us.”
I slowly nodded.
“You’re right...”
“It’s everything we can’t change.” Another quiet moment settled over us. Then, almost reluctantly, he nodded. “So… maybe you’re right.”
The words shattered something inside me. Yeah, I said the words and I meant them, but hearing him agree hurt to the core. Yet, I didn’t let it show.
“Maybe letting each other go is the only loving thing we got left.”
Neither one of us cried harder. Neither one of us argued.
There wasn’t anything left to argue about, to be honest. The truth had already won.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him one last time.
He held me without hesitation. Without pride. Without anger. Just, nothing but love—the kind that had carried us through eleven years.
The kind that, somehow, still wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered against his chest.
His arms tightened around me.
“I know…”
“No…” My voice broke. “For everything… I’m sorry.”
He rested his chin against the top of my head and closed his eyes and then whispered, “I know… and so am I.”
We stood here holding each other until the tears finally slowed, both of us mourning a marriage that neither one of us ever imagined would end this way.
When I finally pulled away, I wiped my face and took a slow, shaky breath.
“I’m gonna pack a few things.”
He nodded and told me, “We’ll tell the boys together.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
“And we’ll do this the right way.”
I nodded again.
“For them…” He said.
“For them…” I said back.
I turned toward the staircase, then stopped halfway to look back at him one last time.
He was still standing in the middle of the kitchen.
The same kitchen where we’d danced barefoot.
The same kitchen where we’d laughed until our sides hurt.
The same kitchen where we’d built a life I thought would last forever.
“I love you, Maddox.”
His eyes never left mine.
“I love you too.”
For the last time…
Those words belonged to us as husband and wife.
I turned away before I could change my mind and slowly climbed the stairs, each step carrying me farther away from the life I’d spent eleven years building.
Some endings happened with screaming.
Some happened with slammed doors.
Ours happened in silence, and somehow…
…that hurt the most.