10. nix
NIX
Three weeks!
Wasted because I had my head stuck up my ass.
Three goddamn weeks where I’ve cleared my schedule to spend more time with my wife to fix our marriage and she’s barely been home.
And when she is, she’s busy. Too busy to spend quality time together.
Or she’s tired. Too tired to talk. We’ve managed only bare minimum conversations regarding daily schedules, updates on Prue’s progress with her wedding, and what we’re having for dinner.
Nothing important. Nothing that leads to working out how to fix our broken marriage.
She’s avoiding me.
And I get it. I do. My wife isn’t one for confrontation, and she doesn’t like to ask for what she wants, as Harry reminded me.
I can’t believe I forgot that simple detail.
Asking for a divorce would have cost her dearly.
And now she’s like a turtle, drawn back into her shell to avoid the discomfort of our situation.
But that’s not going to help us get to where we should be.
I need her anger and her pain. I want her to rail at me.
If only to clear the air and give us a place to start healing.
But my wife’s a peacekeeper to a fault. She quietly goes along without causing a fuss or making demands.
Harry was right when he said that she learned to live in the background.
Shame crawls over my skin that I allowed her to disappear within our marriage.
I press the heel of my hand to my sternum to suppress the ache.
I can’t imagine how bad things had become for her to want out of our marriage, and she’s so good at hiding how she really feels that I completely missed the signs that she was so unhappy.
My fault entirely. If I hadn’t been so neglectful, we wouldn’t be where we are today. My gut twists with the pain I’ve caused my wife.
No more. It stops today. I want my wife back.
I shove the spade along the floor of the hole, scooping out dirt to make it level.
On the plus side, I’ve taken out my frustration on the backyard, which means I’ve almost finished digging out the hole for the sunken fire pit.
By hand. I could have hired a small digger to do the job and would have had it finished in one weekend, but I thought it would be a good opportunity to show my wife how dedicated I am to this project.
If only she were here to see and appreciate my efforts.
I doubt she realizes how much work I’ve done because she hasn’t set foot out here.
The repetitive scrape of metal against dirt is the only soundtrack to my thoughts until I hear ice clinking against glass.
Turning toward the sound, my gaze lands on my wife making her way toward me, a tall glass in hand.
Her eyes rake over my bare chest, which is coated in sweat and dirt.
I push my shoulders back and puff out my chest a little, wishing it were her fingers tracing a path down my torso to my cock.
With her eyes devouring every inch of bared skin, I’m gratified that I still maintain my physique.
Even if she doesn’t want me anymore, she’s still attracted to my body. That’s something.
Her eyes dart around me and widen as she comes closer. “Oh my gosh. You’re almost finished.”
Looking around with a critical eye, I note the levels still aren’t perfect.
“There’s still more to do.” She passes me the glass with a shaky hand, then moves forward like she’s going to join me in the pit, so I reach up to support her as she jumps down.
“Careful, it’s deeper than it looks. I’ll need to include a couple of stone steps down.
” Once she’s safely down, I lift the glass. “Thanks for this.”
She smiles at me.
Smiles. At me.
I’ve won the lottery.
Her eyes glitter and her cheeks rise, changing the entire shape of her face and exposing the dimples I fell in love with.
It feels like the sun has broken through the overcast sky and is beaming down on me, warming me from head to toe.
I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve earned one of her smiles.
The realization creates an ache deep in my chest, and I rub the heel of my hand along my sternum again, worried all the aches I’m feeling there lately are more than emotional pain.
She used to give her smiles to me all the time … so freely.
When did she stop, and how can I get them back?
“You’re welcome.” She turns in a slow circle, eyeing the fire pit. “This is going to be the perfect spot for Prue and Luke to say their vows. She’s going to love it so much.”
I watch her taking in the space and the way her mind is working over how she can make the space perfect. Nothing is ever too much for the people Abbi loves. Once upon a time, that included me.
While I want to make the space perfect for Prue’s wedding, my priority is making my wife happy.
Ensuring she’s in love with the backyard we always dreamed of having is an important part of my plan to win her back.
After all, the wedding is only one day, and I want to share this space with Abbi for the rest of our lives. It needs to be perfect.
I lay my discarded T-shirt out on the edge of the pit and gesture for Abbi to sit, hoping she’ll stay awhile.
She contemplates for a moment, then backs up to my T-shirt and uses her hands as leverage to hop up, seating her perfect ass on the edge of the pit, leaving her feet dangling several inches above the ground.
I rest my ass against the wall, close enough that the delicate floral scent of her perfume wafts around me.
I used to bury my face in the crook of her neck and inhale that same scent deep into my lungs, but I’ve lost the privilege of doing such simple things that I once took for granted.
Never again. If I win her affection, I’ll never take a single moment with her for granted again.
I clear my throat. “So, I know we planned to use timber for this area, but I was looking online for ideas and came across these fire pits that use a combination of stone and wood, which I really like the look of.” I drag out my phone and open my photo album where I’ve saved some images, and hold it out for Abbi.
She leans in close, her arm pressing against my shoulder—I bet she doesn’t even realize how such an innocent touch affects me—so I take advantage and lean further into her. I choose my favorite image and press on it so it takes up the full screen.
Abbi gasps. “Oh, Nix, that’s stunning.”
My chest puffs up with pride, and one side of my mouth tips up.
I knew she’d like this one. “I was hoping you’d like it.
I can order the stones tomorrow and hopefully start laying them next weekend if the delivery can get here by Friday.
” I look up at her for agreement, only to find her frowning at the image with pursed lips. “You’d prefer not to use stones?”
Her narrowed eyes snap up to mine. “It’s not that. It’s just that this looks like a lot more work. You’ll have to fit the stonework together like a puzzle and maybe cut pieces to fit. It’ll be heavy work, Nix. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
I shrug. “I want to do it right, Abs. Either way, it’ll be a lot of work, but I think the combination of stone and wood will look better when it’s done.”
“I agree. It’ll look beautiful, and I guess there’ll be less maintenance over time. But maybe we should hire a company to do the work. Save your back.”
I’m already shaking my head before she finishes.
“I want to do this. For you.” I blow out a long breath and look at the hole I’ve dug in our garden over the last three weeks.
It almost mirrors the hole I’ve dug in our relationship.
If I can make this hole in the ground something beautiful, maybe I can do the same for my marriage.
Maybe I can take us back to a time when everything was good between us.
“I’ve let you down so much. Let me build you the backyard we dreamed of.
And maybe in the process I can rebuild our marriage too. ”
Her eyes track over my face as if she’s looking for any subterfuge—she won’t find any.
Her lips part on a breath, and my eyes drop to her mouth without direction from me.
In the past, I would have leaned forward and melded my lips to hers.
Kissed her until we couldn’t breathe. Probably fucked her where she sits.
But we’re so far apart, we may as well be on different continents, and I fear my kiss wouldn’t be welcome until her eyes drop to my mouth.
With my heart beating wildly in my chest, I lean forward slowly.
Slow enough that my intention is clear, but giving her enough time to withdraw if she wants to.
As the space between us lessens, she doesn’t pull away. My heart bounces around inside my chest cavity with something that feels a lot like hope. Her tongue darts out and slides over her bottom lip, making it glisten beneath the fading afternoon sun. My breath falters.
Finally, our lips meet, and that familiar zing moves through my body.
Being with Abbi has always been a full-body experience, and it’s no different after more than thirty years together.
My soul sighs at the first press of her lips.
I tease her with soft pecks and light nips while her hot breath paints my lips and sends fire licking down my spine.
Without breaking our kiss, I move to the space between her legs, pushing them apart with my thighs, and reach up to cup her jaw, slipping my fingers into her soft, wavy hair.
Her hand slides up over my shoulder, wrapping around me, pulling me closer.
As I step into her, I deepen our kiss, using my tongue to press between her lips.
We fall into a familiar pattern of taking and giving.
Our tongues taste and lick. Our lips meld together, fitting as if we were born to kiss like this for eternity, and if I have my way, that’s how we’ll live out the rest of our days.