Faking a loving, committed marriage to Tara was a hell of a lot more difficult than rehab had been. Because at least in rehab he’d known he was getting better and working toward becoming whole again.
At the end of this farce, he seriously worried he’d not come out unscathed.
Sam paused in front of Marley’s room and peeked in. She lay peacefully on her side, hugging her favorite stuffed mermaid...the one he’d gotten her for her fourth birthday. The party he’d missed. The gift had come late, unwrapped, but she’d carried it around since that day and loved it anyway...she loved him anyway, despite his multiple stumblings.
The heart of a child was so humbling and precious. He deserved nothing, yet his daughter saw beyond everything and kept her heart open.
An entire storm of emotions rolled through him. He’d purchased that damn mermaid thinking it would make up for missing her party. Seeing it now, he wanted to rip it to shreds and forget that time of his life.
But it was remembering all those dark times, all the valleys he’d been temporarily rooted in, that kept him pushing forward each day to be a better man, a better father.
Sam eased her door closed and turned to the room at the end of the hall. He hadn’t slept here in a year. Despite being gone for so long, he could still recall the creak in the floor at the foot of the bed, the way the sunlight spilled in the window if the curtains weren’t closed just right, the way he’d always thought the room smelled feminine and he wondered if his clothes would forever be embedded with Tara’s floral scent.
Now he’d give anything to have that scent on his clothes, but that chapter was over in his life. Now he was lucky to have found work, considering his past. He often smelled like a sweaty guy, but he was proud of where he’d landed and he only hoped one day Marley would be proud to have him as her dad.
Tara stepped from the master bath as Sam entered the room. The bed sat between them and he simply stayed in the doorway, staring across the room at his gorgeous wife—because, damn it, they were still married. Maybe not emotionally, but legally.
“So, what do we do here?” she asked, blurting out exactly what he’d been thinking all evening. “I’m not having sex with you.”
Sam stepped farther into the room. “I never expected you to, but for the sake of Marley, we will both be sleeping in this bed.”
Tara quirked a brow. “For her sake?”
“She still has nightmares,” he told her. “Well, she did before all of this. If she crawls into bed and I’m sleeping on the floor or downstairs on the sofa, do you want to answer all of those questions?”
“Maybe we could lie to her. We’ve been doing it all day anyway.”
The hurt lacing Tara’s tone irritated him. Not because she was in pain, but because he hated that she was in this predicament once again. No doubt when he’d been MIA during his addiction, she’d had to lie to Marley to cover for him.
“This will get better,” he assured her as he pulled his shirt over his head. He was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to crawl into this bed and pass out. “I’m confident her memories will...”
Sam lost all train of thought at the sight of Tara staring at his exposed chest. He knew she’d spotted the new tattoo, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, her eyes held on the ink for a few moments before traveling over his exposed skin. He couldn’t deny that his ego swelled, but again, lust and physical intimacy had never been their issue.
He was just thankful she hadn’t asked about the tattoo. He wasn’t quite ready to explain its meaning to her quite yet...if ever.
“This won’t work,” she muttered. “I mean, I’m still attracted to you, but I don’t want to be.”
Sam laughed and tossed his shirt onto his suitcase in the corner. “Don’t hold back. Be honest with your feelings.”
Her eyes darted up to his. “You don’t want me to go there.”
No, he probably didn’t. “This bed is big enough,” he reminded her. “You won’t know I’m there.”
Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “Not likely, but it sounds good in theory.”