10. nix #3
I shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans and take each step up to her slowly. I shrug. “I had no game and knew you were too good for me. The daughter of a lawyer and a doctor,”—I raise my brows—“there was no way you’d be interested in a stupid jock like me.”
She huffs. “Well, that’s absolutely not true.” Turning her body toward me, she watches me as I walk closer. “You weren’t stupid, Nix.” She shakes her head. “You were never stupid, and I was never too good for you. You had that all wrong.”
I sit next to her, sliding closer, and then tuck her loose hair behind her ear.
“You were definitely too good for the likes of me, but I couldn’t stay away.
Eventually, it got too much, and I pushed through my fear of rejection and approached you.
” I slide my hand over hers and tangle our fingers together, then bring her warm hand up to my mouth, pressing it against my lips.
“When you smiled at me, I thought the heavens had opened up and sent me an angel.” Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink as she ducks her head.
“You’re still too good for the likes of me, and I know I don’t deserve you once, let alone twice, but I feel like I’ve loved you forever.
I’ll do whatever it takes to turn our marriage around and hopefully make you fall in love with me again.
I’m asking you to open your heart to me again, Abs.
I know it won’t be easy for you to trust me again because I’ve hurt you terribly, but I promise, this time, I’ll cherish your heart the way I should have the first time. ”
Between one breath and the next, Abbi’s mouth is pressed to mine, her fingers twisted in my sweater, pulling me close.
I cup her face in my hands, feeling the wetness of her tears against my palms. Each one may as well be a shard of glass, ripping through my heart.
I can’t undo what I’ve already done, but I can show her with my kisses and my actions that I’ll do everything in my power to never make the same mistakes.
I deepen our kiss, taking everything she’s offering and giving back twice as much.
This kiss is my apology, and it’s my promise that things will be different this time.
Abbi slows the kiss too soon and presses her forehead to mine.
As we both work hard to catch our breath, I swipe my thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears.
“I’ve never stopped loving you, Nix.” Hope unfurls bright in my chest that she still loves me.
“But I’ve finally learned I need to love myself more.
” Her dark eyes bore into mine. “I need more in our marriage than sharing a house.” Guilt replaces hope, punching it down until it’s almost unrecognizable.
“I miss you. I miss us. I miss talking with you late into the night. We never talk anymore,” she murmurs, untangling her fingers from my sweater.
She presses her hand flat against my chest, over my heart.
“I miss my best friend. My husband. My lover. We’ve kissed more tonight than I can remember.
We used to love kissing for the sake of kissing.
” She laughs, but it’s hollow. “I swear I went through a tube of aloe vera every six months to combat the beard rash because we were always kissing.”
I remember those days. “I always felt so guilty that your face was so red.”
“I didn’t care.” She pauses. “Not a bit.”
We both grow quiet as we look at each other.
Our eyes locked. My breath catches and pain lances my heart at the deep hurt I see in Abbi’s, knowing I’m the one who put it there.
I don’t look away. I need to see it. Feel it deep in my core.
I need to remember this moment. I do my best to portray my promise to do better.
To be the man she deserves. To rebuild us from the ground up.
Her eyes answer, begging me not to hurt her again, and I reiterate my promise. “I promise to take care of your heart, Abbi. You’re safe with me.” I press my lips against hers. “Give me a chance to show you I can take care of you the way you deserve.”
“Please don’t hurt me again, Nix. I won’t survive.”
I shake my head adamantly. “I won’t.”
Her eyes flick between mine. “Okay,” she whispers.
One quiet word and the tension coiled in my stomach releases. I smile against her lips. “Okay?”
A small whisper of a voice reminds me she agreed to give me a chance three weeks ago, then practically ghosted me. Does she really mean it? Will she give me … us a second chance?
She nods, uncertainty still etched in the strain around her eyes and mouth. “Okay.”
I slip my fingers into her silky hair, bunching it in my fist, and tug her head back. Our eyes grip and hold. “Promise?”
“Promise. Now kiss me, Nix.”
I waste no time following her instruction.
Our kiss goes from zero to sixty in no time as I guide her to straddle me.
And there … on the bleachers where I first laid eyes on her, I kiss her.
Hoping she can taste the promises on my tongue.
The promises to be a better husband. A better friend.
I kiss her like a long-lost lover who’s been deprived of affection for far too long.
And I kiss her with a heart full of hope for a brighter, stronger future together.