Chapter 29 #3
He was always looking out for me, opening every door, getting me food, cleaning, cooking, and being my domestic god.
I loved his scent, his style, and his natural maleness.
I adored how my hand fit with his, and the way he hugged me like he never wanted to let me go.
The urge to tell him I treasured him for life kept bubbling up for days; it wasn’t going away because it was the only truth left.
I loved Angel, as I always had, heart, mind, body, and soul.
ANGEL
I was gone for Roxy, an utter mess for her.
Every single time I caught a glimpse of her, I got hit with a gut punch.
My heart surged with a tidal wave of love for her, a depth that terrified me.
However, she was slow to come around, and I feared she might never forgive me.
Had I broken us past the point of repair?
Still, I stayed present for her as our baby grew in her.
I worked my ass off to prove my devotion to her.
None of it was a hardship, because I could never live without her now.
However, I was very well aware that while she’d once cared for me, she was now distant, and I had no clue if she still loved me back.
One Saturday afternoon, I strolled into her art studio in the lodge.
She stood by a huge canvas, painting.
The artwork was an exquisite abstract, a storm of deep blues and gold.
I lingered in the doorway for a long time, my heart aching for her.
When she turned around and flashed me a wry, wary smile, it hurt so much that I could not just stride over and kiss her senseless.
She was still, distant, and non-responsive to my touches, and it was killing me.
Why couldn’t I break through her armor? How much more would I continue to pay for my own stupidity?
Reeling, I raised my chin in a silent nod, swiveled, and left the studio.
Needing space, I hiked across the sprawling lawn to one of the cedar benches by the lakeside.
I sat down, hit with an overwhelming sadness that she might never love me back.
Keen for reassurance and perhaps some insight, I pulled out my phone and dialed Jude.
He’d become my sounding board in recent weeks.
Given his success in marriage, I looked to him for the undiluted truth about where I was going wrong, or right.
‘Hey brother,’ Jude answered, his timbre steady over the line.
‘Yo man, got a mo?’
‘Always for you. How are you, mate?’
‘I’m OK.’
He must have picked up the despondent tone because he sighed.
‘How are you two doing?’
‘Not good, at least from my perspective,’ I grunted, rubbing my face.
‘Why? Last time we talked, things were improving.’
‘They did, but it’s like we’re now best friends and room mates, not husband and wife,’ I rasped. ‘We laugh, we share jokes, but it’s only me saying that I love her.’
I leaned back, staring at the water.
‘I understand why she’s got me on hold but it’s killing me not having my feelings reciprocated.
Yeah, I know love’s unconditional, and I’m in this until death do us part.
But man, I’m tired of trying to rekindle what we shared.
I’m exhausted of feeling like I have a lot of love to give and fucked for wanting it to go somewhere. ’
Jude stayed silent, letting me vent.
‘I’m frustrated by the expression she gives me when I try to love on her,’ I confessed.
‘She pulls away when I try to kiss her. I keep a smile on my face for her, but it’s proving too hard.
I don’t know how much longer I can bear this rejection.
Am I a fool for staying? Or am I just forcing a ghost of a marriage? ’
‘She endured years for you, Angel,’ Jude countered in a blunt growl.
I grimaced.
‘Damn you for stating the obvious. So you’re saying I have to endure this for as long as it takes?’
‘Yes, my friend. That’s the consequence of not seeing the love in front of you until it was too late.’
‘You’re a massive bundle of help today,’ I muttered.
‘Anytime. Hang in there, brother. If it’s meant to be, it shall be.’
‘That’s just it, Jude,’ I whispered, my voice breaking as hopelessness hit hard. ‘I want it to be. I love Roxy so much, but I’m dying on the inside not knowing if she’ll ever feel the same back.’
I hung up the phone, set it on the bench beside me, and stretched out, my hands and arms resting on the back of the wooden garden seat.
I tipped my head back, gazing up at the sky as the sun’s fading rays warmed my face.
Despair arced through me.
Tears poured down my face, and I let them fall, my soul wrung and exhausted.
I’d fucked up in a series of massive mistakes.
I’d bottled up emotions, lashed out when I got overwhelmed, and said things I regretted.
Despite all this, Roxy was always so sweet, which made my guilt even worse for not seeing her for who she was all these years.
I cherished her and made a point of telling her often because I wanted to build a future with her.
Still, could I live without her love?
While our relationship was not perfect, far from it, we had laughter, deep connection, love for our baby, and moments of peace and joy.
I saw us at our best; hell, I believed in us, and that was worth fighting for.
Even if she never loved me again.