Love never runs smooth

Marriage is hard

But I’d rather be with you

Than without you

 

NOX

Sitting on the bed, I crumple Beck’s tank top up in my hands. Found the soft pink cotton top under the bed while I was searching for my box of guitar picks. It still carries her scent though she’s been gone a month. I want to bury my nose in the material and get lost in memories of her... of us. Holding her. Laughing with her. Taking her in our bed night after night. I slide it through my palms and dangle it from my fingers.

God, I miss her. And Hollander. Never saw anything quite like the attachment those two formed. Cradling my head in my hand, I rub the bridge of my nose. Have to work out how to let go. Move on. Like I’m doing with the rest of my life. At least that part is coming to me easily. I couldn’t see how little bricks and mortar mean in the scheme of things. But the fire—a result of old, faulty wiring—hasn’t destroyed me. If anything it gave me a chance to do something better, though I still do need her signature to finish the sale of the studio.

Couldn’t help myself when I sent the contract. Had to write to her too. Was a fucking hard thing to do when all I wanted was to plead with her to come home. But she might not be my wife anymore, although I haven’t received anything saying our marriage is officially over. I want to find hope in that. But she was so adamant that was what she wanted. So scared of getting hurt. So it has to be coming, doesn’t it? If I thought there was any chance of her changing her mind I’d have gone to see her. Reasoned with her. Begged her. I let her down at a time when she couldn’t afford to have doubts about me. I gave in when she needed me to be stronger than her fears.

Climbing to my feet, I drop the tank top in the hamper. Can’t quite throw it in the trash. In case she wants it. She doesn’t. She’s not coming back. She’s never coming back.

I pick up my acoustic as I go into the living room. Rain is beating against the windowpanes, partly obscuring the valley below. The change of weather came out of nowhere, and it’s the only reason I swapped my woodworking tools for my guitar this afternoon. I drop onto the couch and run my fingers over the strings. Start to weave chords together.

A soft tapping comes from outside. It’s louder than the rain, but not by much. Putting my guitar down, I get up and go and open the back door. My heart stalls in my chest. The pulse in my jaw fills my throat.

Not sure I’ve ever seen such a sorry sight. Beck stands on the steps, drenched from head to toe. Her hair hangs in straggly tresses, the ends beading with water that drips onto her shoulders. She’s lost weight. Her thin cotton top is almost transparent, her shorts glued to her thighs. And her gaze is full of uncertainty. And if I’m being honest, if there was ever going to be a time I believed in her crazy curse then it would be now. Of course she would show up and it would rain for the first time since she left.

I fill the door, gripping the frame. Push down the desire to reach out and grab her. Fight the need to fall on my knees and wrap my arms around her waist and not let go. That’s what I should have done instead of signing the papers. Is that what she’s come here to tell me? “What are you doing here?”

“I...” She swallows hard. “I don’t know where to start.”

I step onto the porch, the wood damp under my bare feet, and shove both hands in my pockets. Otherwise I’m going to touch her. And I’m not sure that would be good for either of us right now. “We’ve all got to start somewhere.”

“Right.” She wipes the rain out of her eyes with her wrist and then reaches into her bag to extract the thick wad of papers I sent to her. “I got the contract. Your note.”

“You didn’t have to deliver them yourself.”

“No, I know.” She looks around her as though she’s grappling with her thoughts. “I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

That is one of the last things I expected to hear her say. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” She drops the contract back into her bag. “I thought when I left that I would be able to put this behind me. You behind me. If I could just remove myself from the equation then everything would be okay. You could move on and I could go back to the way I was before I met you. The curse wouldn’t cause any more damage. I was convinced we would be better off that way.”

“But?” I’m standing right in front of her now. Fat drops are falling from the edge of the roof onto my shoulders, but the rain is easing up.

“I couldn’t sign the application for divorce. And I couldn’t turn off my feelings. So I started seeing a counselor. She helped me realize that I never dealt with what happened. With the accident. When my heart stopped. Instead I locked down on everything that could make me feel. I obsessed over the curse story my mother and grandmother told me as though that could explain why I almost didn’t survive. Used it as an excuse to keep myself safe. And I would have glided right through my life like that if it hadn’t been for you.” She inhales. “You made me feel things I didn’t want to. You made me face my fears. You made me fall in love with you.”

“And then I let you down. You don’t know how much I wish I could change it.”

“No. No. You didn’t. I didn’t want to be married to you anymore than you wanted to be married to me at the beginning. I don’t blame you for taking Liv’s offer. I know how much that money meant to you. What you could have done with it.”

“But I made you a promise too.” I reach out and stroke her cheek. Can’t help myself. “I vowed that I would be by your side no matter what came our way.”

“I didn’t give you a choice.” She steps closer. “You couldn’t save our marriage alone. It was an impossible situation. It wouldn’t have mattered if you signed the papers or not. I would have left you anyway, because I wasn’t ready.”

“And now?” I don’t dare draw breath. Don’t dare hope. Maybe she’s only here because it’s part of her therapy. Maybe she’s looking for closure or this is some kind of step that she has to take. God, I hope it’s so much more than that.

“Now, I’m making progress.” She bites her lip. “I’m not all the way there yet. And there might be times that I fall back into old habits. I might not always know how to cope. And I will always be dramatic.” She gives me a tiny smile before it trembles and falls off her face. “But I will always love you. And I want... If there’s still a chance... if you want to...” She fiddles with the band around her finger. The one that’s loose on her left ring finger. The ring I gave her two years ago that she never wore while we were together. “I want to be married to you still. I can’t promise that it will be easy this time. Or that I will be the perfect wife. Or that—”

“That’s enough.” I slide my hand around her waist and draw her close. Tangle my other hand in her hair as I grasp the side of her neck. My heart is beating so strongly, it’s almost as though it stopped beating at all when she left and has only now started again. Her hands grip tightly in my shirt as she gets as close as she can. Our two bodies breathing as if we’re one. Her cheek is warm against mine, her skin soft under my lips. “That’s all I needed to hear. We’ll figure out the rest. All you have to do is stay with me. That’s all I ever needed from you.”

“I am,” she says, grabbing my face in her hands and desperately seeking my lips with her own. “I will.”

“For better or worse?” I scoop her into my arms, her knees resting in the crook of my elbows, my hands gripping her ankles as her hair waterfalls around us and she kisses me like it’s the first time, and the last time, and every time in between. Like she’s finally coming home.

“Through the good times and the bad. In sickness and in health.”

“Come what may.” I turn around and carry her across the small porch.

“Until death do us part,” she whispers, still not entirely comfortable with the D word.

“Always.” I deepen our kiss.

“And ever.” She smiles down at me as I carry her into the cabin. Our house. Our home as husband and wife. Our happy ever after.