Chapter 7
Valerie moved through anger and disbelief as the hours turned to a solid day of waiting for Donovan to return. He wouldn’t leave her. Not again. He’d promised. But the longer she waited, the less confident she was that he’d come home.
Her phone rang from across the room as she stepped out of the shower. Dripping all over the hardwood floor, she raced to answer without checking to see who it was.
“Donovan? Where are you?”
“Um, no. It’s Sully. He’s here with me, though. Are you all right? He keeps babbling about hurting you.”
Relief mixed with anger flooded her. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything. We just had a misunderstanding.”
“You sure?” Sully didn’t sound convinced.
“Sully, Donovan would never lay a finger on me. You know that.”
Sighing, Sully cleared his throat. “You want me to bring him home? He doesn’t have his jeep.”
Her stomach twisted. She wanted her husband back, not this angry, distrusting version of him. And who’s to say he wouldn’t pick up and leave again. No. She wasn’t going to give him the chance to break her heart because of his issues with his father. He’d already given up on them before she’d had an opportunity to explain what had happened.
“Is he all right?”
“He is. I found him at Cups this morning. The idiot spent all damn night wandering around town. He looked pretty low, so I decided to spend the day with him. What’s going on with you guys?”
“Rough patch.” She didn’t know what else to say. How much had Donovan shared with the guys at the station? Did they know the extent of her hospital stay? Surely he’d shared how severe it had been.
Sully’s gruff voice broke through her thoughts. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Sully. I’m glad he’s got you guys.”
Sully sighed. “I’m glad he has you.”
Her heart split at that. He didn’t have her. Not in the way she’d thought. Knowing this was the hardest decision she’d ever have to make, she forced back the sob tearing at her chest. After hanging up, she took a shuddering breath and pulled a suitcase from the closet.
~ ~ ~
Donovan stood outside the door to his apartment, an ache in his chest. Sully had talked sense into him over the course of the day, and he was ready to talk—really talk—things out with his wife. He loved her so damn much, and the notion of losing her made him irrational. Raising his hand had happened without conscious thought; just a reaction out of frustration. He hadn’t had any intention of hitting her during their heated argument and he knew that in his bones, but the fear in her eyes had sent him spiraling. He’d spent his life watching that same look appear on his mother’s face, only his dad put it there on purpose, leaving bruises for over twenty years. Until the man had finally killed her.
To see that expression on Valerie’s face had broken something deep inside him.
His hand shook as he opened the door, but he was prepared to do anything he could to make things right with her. “Sweetheart?”
The empty living room sent his mind racing. But something in his chest eased when she appeared in the doorway of their bedroom.
“I’m here.” Her voice was hoarse, eyes red and puffy.
Shit. He’d done that. He’d made her cry.
“I’m sorry.” The words were a strained whisper, making him clear his throat before he could continue. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Shaking her head, she stepped forward, pulling a suitcase behind her.
No. No. No. She wasn’t fucking leaving. Not until he’d done all he could to save them.
“You promised me you’d never leave again, Donovan. You promised. But the first time things weren’t steady you bolted.”
“I didn’t leave.”
She blinked, freeing a fresh trail of tears down her cheeks. “You did. Over twenty-four hours without a word from you. I called, texted. Nothing.”
“I just . . . I needed to cool off.”
“That’s not how this marriage thing works. We fight, we talk. We don’t leave.”
“You were already leaving.” Desperation clawed at his throat, making his voice crack.
“No. I wasn’t.”
“What about the phone calls with Lena? I heard you talking about making arrangements. Lena almost divorced Michael last year, and after you talked to her I see you’ve been researching lawyers.”
“The phone calls? They were about a fertility specialist Lena knows. The lawyers? They’re adoption attorneys. I was trying to move forward. To give us some options so that after . . . what happened didn’t hurt so damn bad, we could start working on those five or six kids we want.”
A sinking feeling took hold in his gut. He’d jumped to conclusions. He hadn’t trusted her.
“I . . . I didn’t think—”
“No. You didn’t. All you could see was me leaving. Is that how weak our relationship is?”
“You can’t go, Valerie.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere. You are.” Shoving the suitcase at him with shaking hands, she stared him down. Her blue eyes burned with hurt and anger. “I need time to figure this out. So do you. But Donovan, I don’t know if this is fixable. Trust is a two-way street and the foundation of a marriage. You obviously don’t trust me enough to know I wouldn’t hurt you like that. And you don’t respect me enough to honor your promises.”
His throat was so tight with emotion he had to clear it before he spoke. “I was coming back.”
“There’s so much more to this than you running. The fact that you can’t see it just proves we need time apart.”
“Sweetheart, don’t do thi—”
“No, Donovan. Get out.” Her eyes hardened as she spoke. “I can’t be with a man I don’t trust.”
Shit. Those words combined with the pain in her eyes knocked the wind out of him. His chest tightened even farther as she shoved past him and pulled open the door. Leaving his suitcase in the hall, she walked back inside and stood with her arms crossed over her chest. He reached out for her but she flinched away.
“Don’t make this harder. If you touch me, I’ll give in.”
“Good. I want you to fucking give in. You love me.”
Her brow furrowed as she closed her eyes and breathed deep. “I do. But love isn’t enough to keep a marriage together.” Shaking her head, she trained her gaze on him. “I packed all your uniforms. You shouldn’t need to come back for anything. Don’t call me.” Her voice shook as she continued. “Don’t come to see me. I need to clear my head before deciding anything.”
“What the fuck do you mean, decide anything?”
“Just go.” Lower lip trembling, she dropped her gaze.
Again he reached for her, and again she flinched. He’d ruined them with one misplaced action. She was afraid he was going to hurt her. And deep down, so was he.
Stepping away, he pushed his desperate need to hold her to the back of his mind. She needed him gone. And it killed him. The door closed behind him as soon as he was over the threshold. Pain washed over him at the faint sound of her sobs from the other side of the door.
Gripping his luggage tight, he made his way to the parking lot. His jaw was clenched, teeth grinding with every step. The more distance between them, the worse he felt. Throwing the bag into the back of the jeep, he cursed as the handle broke.
“Fuck!” Where the hell was he going to stay? He couldn’t afford a hotel, not for more than a night anyway. His boat was in the hands of his older brother for the next six months, so he couldn’t stay there.
Starting his car, he drove to the only place he knew he had a bed. Station 31.
A-shift was on duty, the guys he’d spent plenty of hours working and training with. They wouldn’t bat an eye at him being here, at least for one night.
“Miller, what’s got you in here on a day off?” Captain Justin Stone cocked an eyebrow as Donovan lugged his bag behind him. Shit.
Justin was the equivalent of the star QB and all-around Boy Scout of the station. The man had an answer for everything. Everyone held on to a little bit of hero worship when it came to him, and Donovan was no exception.
“Need a place to stay a few nights.”
Justin laughed before catching on that Donovan was completely serious. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. You need someone to talk to?”
Gritting his teeth, Donovan shook his head. The last thing he needed was another perfect fucking marriage thrown in his face.
Justin and Sara had been married twenty years. Twenty perfect years, three kids, and an upwardly mobile career. He had always seen himself and Valerie in the same place two decades from now. But things had taken a nosedive and now he was here, sleeping at the goddamn firehouse.
“Let me know if there’s any OT coming up, will you?” He couldn’t meet Justin’s eyes. “I’ll be around.”
“Sure, Miller.” Shoulders tight, Donovan watched the older man walk down the hall. “Chief won’t want you staying longer than few nights if you’re not on duty. You’re welcome to crash with Sara and me.”
The idea of watching the Stones in their bubble of happiness made irrational jealousy spike in his chest.
“I’m cool, Captain. I’ll be back home before long.”
With a nod, Justin wandered through the door to the captain’s office.
Settling himself in the empty quarters, Donovan lay across the twin-sized bed and closed his eyes, wishing he could will away the pain in his temples and the burn in his chest. He pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to resist the urge to call her.
Fuck. If Klipper were still alive, he’d have some insightful words of wisdom to share. The man spent most of his life pretending to be an asshole. In reality, Tommy Klipper cared a lot more than anyone gave him credit for. What would Klip say if he saw Donovan like this? Probably something along the lines of, “Donovan Miller, pussy whipped by a woman half his size.” And after laughing his ass off, Klip would have gotten down to business and told Donovan to fight for her. That letting her get her way would be the absolute stupidest thing he could do.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he typed a message, deleted it, and typed another. He repeated this three more times before finally settling on a single line of text.
Heart in his throat, he pressed Send.