Her eyes flicked up to his, searching his face.
“I’d built it up in my head,” she said. “Like an idiot. I was so sure. And then, on Christmas…”
Her breath hitched. “I felt so stupid.”
“Don’t,” Tom said, too quickly.
She turned away, pressing both hands to her face. Was she crying? Was he making her cry? It felt like his ribs were collapsing inward, crushing the air out of him.
“Stop.” His voice cracked.
“I saw that necklace,” she said, staring at the red door instead of him. “In your bag. I thought you bought it for me.”
Her laugh cracked down the middle. “Turns out I’m just an idiot with a good imagination. I kept picturing it, daydreaming about the way you would fasten the chain for me, in front of everyone. It was stupid.Iwas stupid.”
Tom’s mind stumbled—necklace?—then snapped into brutal, crystalline clarity.
Oh God.
She hadn’t wanted a check. She hadn’t wanted something practical or responsible or tasteful.
She’d wantedthatmoment—Jake standing behind Mia, fastening the clasp, everyone seeing, the whole room watching.
He saw Christmas morning again with perfect, punishing clarity: Lauren watching Jake open that box, her whole face changing, that tiny flicker of shock and hurt she’d tried to hide?—
He felt sick. Actually sick—like the ground pitched under him.
Oh God.
He wanted to tear his hair out, claw back time, fall to his knees in the snow.
She had beenwaiting for him.She had been dreaming of him.
And he’d crushed that dream.
Tom took a step forward before he even realized he’d moved. He was floundering here, but he knew this at least. “I let you down.”
She shook her head, still not looking at him. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone through your bag. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have wanted it that badly.”
“Stop,” Tom said, voice raw. “If I had been even a fraction of the husband I wanted to be, itwouldhave been your necklace. I would’ve bought it for you and hidden it away. You would’ve been right when you thought it was for you.”
He caught her hand in both of his. Her skin was cold—too cold—and he clasped it, warming it between his palms. He should have made sure she had gloves.
“All I’ve ever wanted, Lauren, since the day I met you, was to give youeverything. Everything I could give you. Everything you could ever want. I never wanted to let you down.” His voice broke on the words. “And I’ve done nothing but that.”
He kept talking, couldn’t seem to stop. “You were never stupid. You were brave.”
Lauren looked at him at last, tears bright in the cold light. Her fingers felt so small in his. All he wanted to do was protect her, but instead he’d made her cry. It felt like his chest had been pried open with bare hands.
“I was a bad husband,” Tom said, the admission scraping out of him. “I was selfish and blind and—” He broke off. He'd sat there on Christmas Day andsmiledwhen Jake fastened that necklace around Mia's throat. Had felt proud of himself for being so helpful.
Jesus Christ. Tom squeezed his eyes shut.
"I didn't realize," he said. The words felt pathetically inadequate. "Lauren, I swear to God, I didn't realize it was—I was holding onto it for Jake. I didn't?—"
He thought about Lauren sitting there, watching that moment, the one she'd imagined for herself being given to someone else?—
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his hands around hers. "Lauren, I'm so?—"
