I make my way into the hallway, and when I peek my head into the kitchen and living room, I don’t see him. I let out a sigh of relief as I leave the master bedroom and move into the bathroom.
I stare at myself in the reflection, remembering everything he said last night. Feelings of guilt bloom in my chest and it aches thinking about what I did to the man I love. I left him to deal with everything alone. I was so busy trying to survive the storm, I’d forgotten there was someone else fighting beside me.
I make my way out of the bathroom and just as I expect, Bennett is standing in front of the door, his bare chest on display in nothing more than his briefs. “Can you put some clothes on?” I try my best to appear unfazed by his appearance, but goddamn if he isn’t sex on a fucking stick. My eyes rake over his chest and up and down his sleeve of ink before moving towards the kitchen. I hear him moving behind me and I roll my eyes when I know he’s not going to oblige my request.
“Olivia, I want to apologize for last night. I said some things that…”
“You didn’t mean?”
“No, I meant them, but my execution was off. My emotions were running high, and I snapped when I shouldn’t have,” he says honestly.
I place a mug under the Keurig. “Do you want some coffee?” I ask, ignoring his apology.
“That’d be great, thanks.” He leans against the counter and stares at me as I watch our coffee maker in fascination in an attempt to avoid his gaze or his hard chest and washboard abs. “Look at me,” he commands. I do as he asks, and he cocks his head at me. “I want to be able to move past this.”
“Of course, you do,” I tell him, “but as you so eloquently put it last night, there are two people in this marriage, and it’s not just your call.”
He nods and his arms flex, showcasing the veins, and I avert my eyes quickly. “I…I don’t want a divorce, Olivia.”
“I also know that,” I tell him as I watch the coffee fall into the mug.
“Do you?”
I run my tongue over my teeth and look up at him. “Bennett,” I shake my head, “I want space.”
He looks relieved that I didn’t flat out tell him yes, but he still looks wary of my response. “What kind of space?”
“I would like if you moved out.”
His brows furrow as fear flashes in his eyes. “What?”
“I can’t work through this with you here.”
“What’s there to work through?”
“If I can trust you. If I can move on from this…” He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at something behind me, as if he’s zoning out. His green eyes are dull and not full of the love and passion that he usually has for me.
“Don’t do this, baby. If I walk out that door again, it’ll break me.” His words are so quiet I almost don’t hear them, but I feel them so deeply it’s as if he screamed them in my ear.
“If you stay, it’ll break me.”
He slouches against the counter. “I never meant to hurt you, Olivia. You have to know that.”
“I do,” I whisper.
He walks out of the kitchen and I let out a deep sigh. Within moments he’s back with a shirt and sweatpants on, much to my relief. I hand him his cup and he sits at the bar, his eyes trained on me. The quiet stretches on between us and I’m not sure what to say. “How long do you think you need this space?”
I shrug because I’m really not sure. “I don’t know.”
“Can I get a ballpark?”
“I can’t put a time on healing, Bennett…a month maybe?”
He stares down at his coffee, moving the mug around the counter with his hands, I’m guessing as a way to distract himself. “We can’t talk at all?” he asks finally when he meets my gaze. “I can’t see you?”
“I think that would be more difficult for both of us.”
He snorts. “This is bullshit.”