‘Which makes it all the more hurtful that you couldn’t turn to me, but no
less true. If I had been the one injured, you would have insisted on never leaving my side. But because it was you, you couldn’t bear to have me around. You even told the nursing staff they had to keep me away.’
‘You didn’t need to see me at that time.’
‘Why, Zeke? Because you felt vulnerable and at your lowest? We were married—we should have been a team. We could have been the strongest team. Instead, you never learned to let me in.’
‘Of course I let you in. We were married for ten years, for pity’s sake. You knew things about me that no one else has ever known.’
‘Such as?’
He glowered, clearly hating every second of this line of argument.
‘You knew about where I grew up. My old man.’
‘Facts, Zeke.’ She blew out a deep breath. ‘I knew where you lived because Westlake is a small town and everyone knows everyone. I knew that your dad was a violent, abusive drunk, who took his anger out on you after your mum left, again because everyone knows everyone else’s business. But I never knew anything because you told me. I never knew how you felt inside, because you never told me.’
She wasn’t prepared for the profound sadness that settled inside her, like old dust disturbed from a furniture cover suddenly lifted in a long-abandoned house.
‘It was irrelevant,’ he gritted out.
‘It wasn’t.’ Tia shook her head. ‘That kind of thing makes us who we are. And you never gave me a chance to know that part of you. In truth, Zeke, I don’t think we really know each other. We barely ever did.’
‘We’ve known each other for eighteen years,’ he snorted.
‘You didn’t come near me at the beginning because I was fifteen and you decided I was too young,’ she pointed out. ‘Even though, I hasten to point out, that you were only seventeen back then.’
‘Well, we’ve still been married for the past fifteen years.’
‘You can’t count the last five of those fifteen years,’ Tia argued. ‘We’ve basically spent them apart. The point is that we’ve never truly understood each other. You never let me in to understand what you thought, or felt, or what made you tick.’
‘You already knew all of that. You knew that I was desperate to get out of Westlake. You knew why I joined the army and then the Royal Marines. You knew that my military career was all I had.’
‘It wasn’t all you had, though,’ Tia burst out. ‘That’s what I’m trying to say but you keep refusing to hear me. You had me. You just didn’t want me enough.’
She twisted around so he couldn’t see the shameful tears threatening to spill over. Still, his harsh reply was like a dagger to her back.
‘That’s bull.’
It took her a few moments to steady herself. Another few to turn around and face him.
‘We were young, and stupid,’ she offered shakily. It sounded feeble but it was simpler than the whole story, and it had the benefit of at least being true. ‘In real terms we barely even knew each other. I mean, what were we thinking, running off to get married like that? I was only just eighteen, you weren’t even twenty.’
‘We thought we were in love.’
And there was the truth, in those little words. Thought we were. Not simply were. Even though she knew he was right, it still hurt.
‘We were selfish. And cruel.’
‘You mean I was,’ he corrected bitterly. ‘Because my old man didn’t give a damn about anything I did, and I took you even though I knew that you did have a father who cared.’
‘I mean we were. I certainly don’t remember you strong-arming me into anything. In fact, I seem to recall it was my idea. I thought it was romantic and daring.’
His jaw clenched in a way that was achingly familiar, and Tia would have given anything to know what he was thinking in that instant.
‘Still,’ he ground out eventually. ‘We made sure you went to uni. I went back to my training. We weren’t completely irresponsible.’
‘Do you realise that in those ten years of our marriage, when we weren’t separated, we saw each other less than fifteen months? Out of one hundred and twenty months?’