Chapter 14 #3
I told her things while I touched her. Little confessions that spilled out between kisses and caresses.
How scared I'd been on our wedding day, terrified that I wasn't good enough for her.
How I used to watch her sleep sometimes, marveling at the fact that she'd chosen me.
How the panic attacks had started long before Iverson, triggered by the growing certainty that I was going to lose her and it would be entirely my own fault.
She listened to all of it, her fingers trailing patterns on my skin, her dark eyes soft with something that looked like forgiveness.
"I was scared too," she admitted. "I kept waiting for you to realize you'd made a mistake. To wake up one day and decide you wanted someone shinier, someone who fit better in your world."
"There is no one shinier than you." I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "There is no one who fits better. You're it for me, Jennifer. You've always been it."
"Then why did it take us eight years to get here?"
"Because I'm an idiot." I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me so she was draped across my chest. "A stubborn, emotionally constipated idiot who was raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness."
"Your father has a lot to answer for."
"He does." I thought about Marcel, about the cold disappointment in his eyes, about the lessons he'd drilled into me since childhood. "But I can't blame him forever. At some point, I have to take responsibility for my own choices. And I chose wrong, Jen. Over and over, I chose wrong."
"But you're choosing right now." She pressed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. "That has to count for something."
"Does it?"
"I'm here, aren't I?" She lifted her head to look at me, her expression serious. "I tore up the divorce papers. I let you back in. That means I believe you can change. That means I'm willing to give you the chance to prove it."
The weight of her trust settled over me like a benediction. I didn't deserve it. I knew I didn't deserve it. But I was going to spend the rest of my life earning it anyway.
"I won't let you down," I said quietly. "I know I've said that before. I know my promises don't mean much at this point. But I swear to you, Jennifer, on everything I am and everything I have, I will never shut you out again."
"I'm going to hold you to that."
"I know." I pulled her up for a kiss, pouring everything I felt into the press of my lips against hers. "And I'm counting on it."
We stayed there on the floor until the sky started to lighten outside the windows, talking and touching and rebuilding the foundation of our marriage brick by brick. By the time the sun came up, we'd negotiated new boundaries, set new expectations, and made promises we both intended to keep.
It wasn't going to be easy. We both knew that. There would be setbacks and stumbles and moments when the old patterns tried to reassert themselves.
But for the first time in eight years, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
Real, genuine, terrifying hope that maybe, just maybe, we were going to make it.
"We should go," Jennifer murmured, her head resting on my chest. "The realtor is coming in a few hours."
"Let them come." I tightened my arms around her. "I'm not ready to let go of you yet."
"You don't have to let go." She lifted her head to look at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "That's kind of the whole point."
"Oh." I blinked at her, something warm unfurling in my chest. "Right."
"Come on." She pulled away and started gathering her clothes. "Let's go back to my loft. We can order breakfast and plan our next steps."
"Our next steps?"
"Well, we need to find a new place to live, for starters." She pulled her shirt over her head, and I mourned the loss of the view. "This house has too many ghosts. I want somewhere fresh. Somewhere that's ours."
"Whatever you want." I reached for my own clothes, my heart feeling lighter than it had in years. "I told you, Jen. I yield to you. Completely."
She paused, looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"With everything I am."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she crossed the room and cupped my face in her hands, her dark eyes searching mine.
"I love you, Clayton Mayer. Even after everything. Even after all the ways you've hurt me. I love you, and I'm choosing you, and I need you to understand what that means."
"Tell me."
"It means I'm trusting you with my heart again. It means I'm giving you the power to destroy me, and I'm betting that you won't." Her voice was steady, but I could see the vulnerability underneath. "Don't make me regret it."
"I won't." I covered her hands with mine, holding them against my face. "I promise you, Jennifer. I will spend the rest of my life proving that your trust wasn't misplaced."
She studied me for a long moment, searching for something in my eyes. Whatever she found must have satisfied her, because she nodded slowly.
"Okay then." A real smile spread across her face, the first one I'd seen in months. "Let's go start our new life."
I followed her out of the empty house and into the morning light, feeling like a man who'd been given a second chance he didn't deserve.
I wasn't going to waste it.