"I know what I said." I step into the room, and she takes a step back, still holding that sweater. "At first, yes. That's what I wanted. But I didn't know who you were then."
"Sean—"
"You're strong," I say, speaking as quickly as I can, while I have the chance to. "You're intelligent and capable, and you tried so fucking hard to be a good wife to a man who didn't deserve it. You could have made my life hell, but you didn't. You tried to make this work even when I was doing everything I could to push you away."
She's shaking her head, backing up until she hits the dresser. "Don't. Not now?—"
"I haven't been a good husband to you. I know that. I've been cold and cruel, and I've hurt you in ways I can't take back. But I want to try, Maeve. If you'll let me, I want to try to be the husband you deserve. I?—"
"Sean, stop?—"
"I want to treat you the way you should be treated. I want to build you up every day, encourage you, support you. I want to do better. I want to love you the way I?—"
"Do you?" The words come out sharp and angry, her expression suddenly pinched. "Do you really love me, Sean? Or is this just guilt talking?"
The question stops me cold. This isn’t how I wanted to tell her I loved her. I pictured it differently, on the way back. More romantic, I suppose, even though I wouldn’t know romance if it hit me in the face. But I didn’t want it to be an argument.
After everything I’ve done, though, I suppose it couldn’t have been anything else.
"I don't know," I admit. "I'm not sure I know what love is. I've never loved anyone before. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like."
Something flickers across her face, a pained expression. She looks saddened. Disappointed. My chest gets that feeling again, as if my ribs are going to crack.
"But I know what I feel for you," I continue quickly, before she can speak again. "I know that when I thought Brennan mightkill you, I felt like I was dying. I know that when I see you smile, something in my chest gets tight. I know that I think about you constantly, that I want to make you happy, that the thought of you leaving makes me feel like I'm being torn apart. If that's not love, then I don't know what other word to use for it. I don’t know what love is, but this… this feels like it."
For a moment, I think maybe I've reached her. Her expression softens, and I think maybe she's going to say yes, that she'll stay, she'll give me a chance.
Then her face hardens again, as if she’s remembered how things were before, and I know I've lost.
"It's too late," she says, her voice is shaking. "You don't get to do this now, Sean. You don't get to say these things after everything you've said to me before."
"Maeve—"
"No." She holds up a hand, and there are angry tears in her eyes now. "You made me feel like I was nothing. Like I was a punishment you had to endure. You told me you didn't want me. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"
"I was wrong?—"
"You broke my heart!" The words come out as a shout, and she bursts into tears. I want to go to her, to pull her into my arms, but I know that wouldn’t be well-received in this moment, no matter how much it makes me ache to see her cry like this. "Over and over again, you broke my heart. Every time I tried to get close to you, every time I thought maybe we were making progress, you pushed me away. You made it clear that I was unwanted, that I was a burden, that you wanted to be free of me."
"I know. I know I did, and I'm sorry?—"
"Sorry isn't enough!" She's shaking now, her hands clenched into fists. "I can't do this again, Sean. I can't let you in just so youcan change your mind and push me away again. I can't survive that. I can’t lose someone else that I?—"
"I won't change my mind?—"
"You don't know that! You just said yourself you don't even know what love is. What happens when you figure out that what you feel for me isn't love after all? What happens when you decide you made a mistake? What happens when you wake up one day and realize you want out?"
I shake my head fiercely. "That's not going to happen?—"
"You don't know that!" She's shouting again, and she grabs another handful of clothes, shoving them into the suitcase. "I won't be someone's obligation, Sean. I won't be someone's second choice. I won't be the wife you settled for because you felt guilty about how you treated me.Youtaught me I’m worth more than being shoved into a corner and treated as if I’m disposable. Now you get to live with the consequences of me finding a backbone."
She slams the suitcase shut, and panic floods through me. She's leaving. She's actually leaving, and I'm losing her, and I don't know how to stop it.
"Maeve, please?—"
"I need to go.” Her voice breaks. "I need you to arrange a flight home for me. I need to leave before I do something stupid like believe you."
She clicks the locks on the suitcase, and it feels final. Something inside of me shatters, slicing into my cold, dead heart.
