The One for Me - Page 38/75

With a laugh devoid of humor, he said, “Manly pride. I couldn’t admit to you that I didn’t know how to be the husband you needed. It’s not a great feeling when you aren’t giving the woman you love what she needs. Instead of trying, I kept ignoring the problem and just hoped it would go away.” Shrugging his shoulders, he added, “If nothing else, months of therapy have made me accept that.”

She had nodded before his words hit her. “Wait—what? You’re going to a therapist?”

He looked embarrassed for a moment. “Yes, I am. I started a few months after we split up. I was so depressed I could barely function. I’d run into you at some gathering your mother insisted I attend, and you’d look so beautiful—and happy. You were flourishing without me, but I wasn’t doing too well myself. Remember my cousin Calvin, who went through a divorce a few years back?” At her nod, he continued. “He recommended his marriage counselor, who also works with individuals.”

“Wow.” She blinked, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. This was probably the sweetest and, strangely enough, the most intimate conversation that they’d ever had. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“What I’d like to hear,” he began earnestly, “is that you’ll go to counseling with me. I realize that it won’t happen overnight, but I want a chance to show you that I can change. I hate to admit it, but it took you leaving for me to wake up. Would you consider giving me another chance?”

Oh, my God. This was the last thing she had expected from him. Sure, he’d tried to talk her out of the divorce, but in the end, he’d signed the papers and hadn’t contested it. Her mother kept telling her that Bill wanted her back, and he’d admitted as much when he’d had the opportunity to talk to her. But it had been nothing like this. The man sitting beside her now was saying things that her husband would never have admitted to. He was shouldering the blame for their failed marriage and had sought help on his own. She was stunned and touched that he would let such vulnerability show. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run or give him the hug he looked as if he desperately needed. “This is—so unexpected,” she stuttered out.

He laughed softly. “I can imagine that this is a lot to take in. I don’t want you to give me your answer tonight. But if you’ll at least say that you’ll think about it, I would be extremely grateful.”

She moved her hand to squeeze his leg, and then thought better of it. That might be misconstrued as an intimate gesture, especially with what he’d revealed. “Bill—so much has happened,” she began speaking, only to halt when he got to his feet.

“Let’s don’t say anything else tonight until you’ve taken a few days to think it over. Please?”

He looked so hopeful as he stared down at her. There was no way she could say no, at least not right now. She really didn’t have any desire to return to her previous life, but she felt as if she owed him this consideration after the years that they’d spent together. “Okay.” She nodded.

“Thank you.” He smiled and then turned to look toward her parents’ house. “I’m, er—going to walk around front and leave, if you don’t mind. I think I’ve had my fill of your mother for one evening.”

She couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing in delight. Dear Lord, maybe the man had changed. Even when she’d begged, he’d never skipped out on a long, extended farewell before. “Do you mind if I join you?” she asked before giving him a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll text her before I pull out and let her know that we both had to leave.”

“That works for me,” he beamed as they walked quickly but quietly around the side of the house and to the driveway. “I’ll call you soon, all right?”

She nodded her agreement and then sent off a text to her mother before following Bill down the road. He honked his horn once, when he took the turn that would lead to their old house, while she continued.

Her mother’s emotional abuse tonight wasn’t really a surprise. But Bill going to therapy and wanting to reconcile—there was the big shocker. She could tell that he hadn’t been just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear either. He had been different. She would have never left the man who poured his heart out to her tonight. Though it was all too little, too late—wasn’t it? She’d moved on with her life, and she liked the person she had become since her divorce. She loved her job and the friends that she had made. She’d barely existed outside of being Bill’s wife when she was married.

Good grief, the man never even argued about visiting her parents—until tonight. Whenever she’d complained about her mother, he’d always seemed to take the other woman’s side without even listening.

She was still playing their conversation over in her mind when she pulled into a parking spot at her apartment. Then it hit her—she was supposed to go to Mark’s. She slumped back in her seat, feeling more tired that she had in a long time. She would love to curl into Mark’s strong chest and sleep away the feelings of unease that were choking her. But they didn’t know each other well enough for her to dump her problems at his door. She’d text him when she got inside and let him know she was too tired for a visit. She was beginning to see a pattern in texting to avoid confrontations—but wasn’t that what everyone did now?

She pulled her phone from her purse when she walked in the door and ignored the string of responses from her mother. It was then that she realized that she didn’t know Mark’s number. Despite all of their recent interactions, apparently she’d never gotten that information. It took her another ten minutes and a rundown of the evening to Ella before she got Mark’s number from Declan. Then she took an additional five minutes to compose her message. Rough night. Tired so needed to come home. Talk soon. She added a smiley face at the end, just to pretend that she was happy, before hitting SEND. As she was putting her phone down, her mother sent another text, demanding an explanation for what happened with Bill. Crystal let out a snort of disgust, and then promptly turned the thing off. She then walked straight into her bedroom and face-planted onto her bed. As she started to drift off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wish that Mark were beside her. She liked the woman that she had become with him—his Angel.