Fucking years.
It had gotten dark as I sat on the porch lamenting over all of this. And cold. It was summer in New Zealand. The dress I was wearing had thin straps and was made of silk. I barely felt the cold... Not with all of the other emotions swirling through me.
When headlights shone down the drive, my heart stopped beating.
The same nervousness I felt the night I told Karson I was pregnant swept over me. But it was something different now. It went deeper. Because parts of me were hollowed out. Jaded. Empty.
I suspected I’d be haunted by memories of how carefree I’d been before, jealous of her, that woman who had believed the worst thing that could happen was gaining a few too many pounds. The woman who could feel happiness without an edge to it.
I’d mourned her for years, along with my child. Because she was there too, in that tiny coffin.
I stood up on unsteady legs when the car stopped and the door opened. My hands were clenched at my sides as his footsteps echoed through the night.
His face betrayed nothing, though his eyes did a slow sweep of my body as he ascended the stairs.
I imagined I looked like shit. If only I’d thought to make a quick detour to shower and freshen up so I could look my best in order to win my man back.
Too late.
He didn’t say anything. Just stopped in front of me. The distance he left between us was unnatural. It speared my heart. The wall he was finally putting between us after everything I’d done to him.
It served me right, I supposed.
He didn’t speak.
It wasn’t his job to speak first now. It was mine.
“I fucked-up,” I said, staring at him. “I fucked-up about a thousand times since we lost her. I don’t have an excuse. None.”
My eyes ping-ponged around his porch, searching for the right words, the strength to continue. “I crossed an ocean for you,” I whispered. “I know that doesn’t sound like much, considering everything I put you through, everything I put us through, but it’s my big grand gesture. It’s my apology … though I know I’ve got a lot more of that to do. I will tell you that I flew coach for you because the next flight was in ten hours, and I couldn’t wait that long. I know that’s a completely gross thing to complain about, but it was a middle seat, and the guy next to me had not showered in a hot minute. And the woman on the other side of me was seriously committed to getting me to join her MLM.” I released a long sigh, realizing I was babbling.
Realizing I was nervous.
Nervous.
It was an unfamiliar but not unwelcome emotion. It felt pure and honest compared to what I’d been feeling lately.
Even though the reason why I was nervous was because I suddenly realized that I was taking this big leap, finally getting out of my own way, finally living even though Karson may have already decided to move on.
He would be well within his rights. I’d put him through the fucking wringer.
I sucked in a deep breath. Then another one. Let myself feel warm with the idea of a future between us. Of Karson. Of sleeping with him every night.
Then I met his ice blue eyes, the ones that felt like home.
“I will fly across a thousand oceans for you, for us,” I said. “Across galaxies if need be—and space scares the absolute shit out of me. But nothing terrifies me more than the vast, empty existence I would have without you, without us.”
I ran my hands up and down my bare arms as Karson stayed stock still, unmoving, expression completely blank, not giving anything away.
“I know after everything that happened, I’m not the woman you fell in love with. I vaguely resemble her. But the things I’ve done, the things I’ve said to you, they were not said by that same woman. So I understand if I’m not … enough for you now.”
Karson’s face curled at that word, his cold expression gone. “Enough,” he stated in a low voice.
I reflexively jerked back.
“When you were laying in a hospital bed, still bleeding, barely stitched up, you apologized to me,” he quietly reminded me. “Your thoughts then were not for yourself. They were for me. You wanted to make sure I knew you didn’t blame me.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Sweetheart, it broke my fuckin’ heart. But it showed me something else. How much you loved me. I’ve never doubted it. Not once.” He stepped forward and pulled me to him so our foreheads rested against one another’s.
“I’ve always had hope,” he murmured.