Chapter 6
Calvin
Ipulled a weeping Emily into my arms.
She found the diaries.
I hated this. Hated she'd discovered the items I'd locked away.
I’d found the hateful things the day after her accident. I’d returned to our house for the first time in months to pack her a bag. In our bedroom, I’d found the diaries spilled out across our bed.
Reading the despair on each page, I’d been struck by how our miscommunication had escalated to this point.
I'd hidden them, wanting to shield this from her. To keep her protected from what had been our reality for as long as possible.
Fear stabbed my gut, my body turning to ice.
Would she change again?
"That's it," I whispered, rocking her gently as she sobbed. "I've got you, baby. You just let all that out. Let go of it all. There's no need to hate yourself because I love you. Collins loves you. Nick loves you. We all love you."
She cried harder at my words, her voice broken and muffled as she said something against my chest.
"What?" I asked, still rocking her. "I can't hear you, Pretty Eyes."
She tilted her head back, watching me with a sad, broken gaze. "How can you love me? I'm a monster."
I pulled her back in, allowing her to cry as I tried to process, trying to capture the right words to reassure her.
As she settled, her cries lessening, I seized my chance.
"I hid your diaries after the accident. I hid them after reading them. I hid them knowing they would fill the gaps in your memory, but also knowing the words weren't worth the paper they were written on."
I blew out a long breath, continuing to rock her, feeling her still, knowing she was listening.
"If you're a monster, I'm the devil. Because I never fucking knew.
Not until the accident. I never even questioned why you were doing things like fad diets and personal shopping.
Just thought it was making you happy." I finally looked down at her.
"I slept beside you for five years, Emily, and never once knew you hated our life.
Never even fucking suspected it. It took a man in a coat after you passed out and crashed your car to tell me what was before my own eyes. "
I shook my head. "You passed out, baby. Passed out on an icy patch of road and ran straight into a tree. How the fuck am I the kind of man you deserve when I never even saw how much you were hurting?"
She shuddered under my hands, pressing herself close. "I don't remember, Cal. I still can't remember any of it. This life, that time, all the things I said. I thought maybe I would. Maybe something would prompt it. But…."
"It's gone."
She nodded. "All of it. And I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse."
I didn't either. Because as much as I loved my wife, as much as I loved that I had the woman I'd fallen in love with back, I was fucking angry.
Angry that she had no memory of our life together.
Angry at myself for being a selfish dick who'd retreated into work rather than support my wife when she needed me.
Angry I'd allowed this to happen. Angry, I'd stepped away from being the man she'd fallen in love with.
Fuck, I was angry that I thought I even had a right to be angry.
Weak piece of shit.
"I… I think I need to do counselling," Emily whispered into the quiet. "And not just for the head injury. But for… for this." She gestured at the diaries. "And for us too."
I nodded.
"I don't remember hating our life or the slow decline of our relationship. But I need time to process and to appreciate and learn to love who I am now. I need time to come to terms with our reality and to work out who you are now, too."
I brushed hairs away from her cheek. "You always were the smarter one."
She smiled, but it faded quickly. "Can we come back from this? Can we find our way back?"
I didn't rush my answer. I didn't want to give her platitudes or make her feel that I didn't take her, us or our life together seriously.
"Yeah, I know we can." I pulled her closer. "Leaving you was the hardest fucking thing I ever did."
"But you left because I called your sister fat."
"I left because you did that and then didn't take ownership of the hurt it caused." That day was seared into my soul.
"I wish I could remember," Em whispered. "I want to apologise to Honey."
"If you want, I could invite them over for dinner." I offered, knowing it would cost Honey to come but hoping it might repair their relationship.
"I'd like that."
I nodded once, sealing the deal. She settled in my arms, quiet and pensive.
We stayed that way for a long time, sharing air and warmth. I couldn't recall the last time we'd done this, just been together.
"Cal?"
"Mm?"
"I hate this house."
I barked out a laugh, pulling back and groaning when I found that my ass had gone numb.
"I'm serious," Emily told me, her cheeky grin in place. "It's like some kind of white hells cape."
"It's not that bad," I chuckled.
"It is," she insisted. “It's a clinical iceberg of nothing. I get a headache just looking at it each day."
"Are you sure the headache isn't from your injury?" I teased.
She rolled her eyes. "Too soon."
"You want to go to Home Depot?"
"What, now?"
I shrugged. "Why not. They're open late. We could get some paint. At least splash something on the walls of the bedroom to help you stop questioning your sanity."
Her smile was glorious. "Can we get some burgers on the way home?"
"Oh shit," I laughed. "You won't remember the Bronze Horseman."
"The what?" Em tilted her head to the side, her hair sliding off her shoulder.
"Baby, you're gonna love it."