“Yeah, baby. It’s over.”
She swallowed hard, gathered her courage and looked him directly in the eyes. “And what about us? Are we over?”
His gaze looked so haunted. There were deep shadows under his eyes. The bandage on his head had been removed, and it looked like there were stitches in the cut at his hairline.
He touched her cheek, and his fingers shook against her skin. His breath stuttered erratically from his chest, and she realized just how hard he was trying to keep it all together.
“I’ve been the driving force in our relationship for way too long. I push, you give. I destroy and you suffer. I alone decided the course of our marriage a year ago when I shoved those papers at you and watched you fall apart. It’s time that you decided what is best for you.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. He sucked in a deep breath through flared nostrils, and his eyes went shiny with unshed tears.
“I love you, Rachel. More now than ever. I want another chance. God, I want it so bad. I’d do anything for it, but I won’t force you into a bad decision. I want us to be together. I want us to laugh and love for the next fifty years. I want a marriage like my mom and dad’s. I want to wake up every single morning with you in my arms. I don’t want us to go away.”
“What about the SEALs? You weren’t happy leaving.”
“No,” he admitted. “I wasn’t. I quit because I thought it was what I needed to do.”
“Can you go back?”
He smiled and traced a line around her mouth. “Sam wants me to work for KGI. He’s wanted me to ever since I resigned my commission, but I was too damn stubborn and I was too busy being pissed off at the world. You and I need to talk about what that means, but I like the idea. My brothers are pains in the ass, but there’s no one I’d trust more with my back. Or yours.”
She lay there for a moment, imagining what their future might be like. Their issues wouldn’t be solved overnight. It would take a lot of hard work and patience. She wasn’t 100 percent yet. Maybe she’d never be.
“I could go see that therapist again,” she blurted. “She wasn’t too bad.”
“We have all the time in the world to make things right with you and with us,” Ethan said gently.
Hearing it put that way, some of her anxiety melted away. The tension so embedded in her shoulders lessened, and she relaxed into the pillows.
They did have time. No one said everything had to be perfect tomorrow or even the next day. They could take it one day at a time. Together.
Together.
Never had she imagined her life without Ethan. She didn’t want to. They’d both made mistakes, and they deserved a second chance. He was right. God had given them—their marriage—a second chance. It was a wonderful gift and one she intended to cherish.
Feeling at peace with her decision, she snuggled farther into Ethan’s embrace. She turned her face into his neck and whispered, “I love you.”
He stiffened, every muscle in his body so tight she could feel the tension emanating from him. Then a great shudder rolled through him, and he pressed his lips to her hair.
“I love you too, baby. God, I love you. I thought I’d lost you. I thought this time I wouldn’t get you back.”
He shook against her, and she closed her eyes against the tears stinging her lids.
“We can work it out, Rachel. Just give me a chance. I’ll make you happy this time.”
She pulled away and stared up into a face that was harsh with emotion, his eyes red, his cheeks tear-ravaged. She touched his damp skin, and her heart squeezed with love.
“I want both of us to be happy this time,” she whispered.
He leaned down. His lips met hers in a warm, sweet rush. It was a seeking kiss. That of two lovers finding their way back to each other after a long, winding road apart.
She could see the two separate paths converging into one. Though she couldn’t foresee the many inevitable bumps and curves that lay ahead, she was sure of one thing. They’d make the journey together.
CHAPTER 42
“I can’t wait to get this cast off,” Rachel complained. “It’s about to drive me crazy.”
Ethan smiled as he poured them each a cup of coffee. He glanced over to see his wife sitting at the table that overlooked their backyard, newspaper spread out in front of her. But it wasn’t the paper that held her attention. She’d unbent a metal clothes hanger and was trying to insert the end up her cast to ease her itch.
His wife.
He’d never get tired of using the word. Of hearing it. Of thinking it.
“You’re going to stab a hole in your arm with that,” he said mildly as he set her coffee in front of her. “You’ll probably get lead poisoning too. Or maybe lockjaw. Is it rusty?”
She glared at him for a moment and then laughed as she tossed the hanger aside.
“It itches and I can’t make it stop.”
He leaned forward and kissed her, savoring the brief, casual contact. It felt so normal and so old fogie, the kind of kiss couples share after being together for so long. He loved that sensation of comfort with her even if they hadn’t hurdled all their obstacles yet. They were getting there, and that was the important part.
“You only have a few more hours until your appointment, and if all goes well and the X-rays are good, the cast comes off.”
She sipped at her coffee and sank back in her chair with a sigh. “I can’t wait.”