Fix it? As if this was a broken chair that needed a nail or some glue. Or a cracked shard of glass in a window.
This wasn’t fixable. She was broken.Theywere broken. And in a couple of days, he’d go back to the Marine Corps and she’d still be here, alone, wondering how on earth she was supposed to get through another day.
It wasn’t his fault that he had to go back to work.
“I can’t do this anymore.” The whispered words tumbled from somewhere deep inside her, and the second they were out, she wanted to tug them back. But she physically couldn’t bring herself to do it. Becausesomethingdid need to change. Otherwise, she wouldn’t make it.
An expression crossed his face. Confusion…panic. It looked so out of a place on the man who usually carried the world on his shoulders. “What do you mean, you can’t do this anymore?”
“It’s too hard. Every day is too hard.”Had beentoo hard for so long.
“Indie—”
“I can’t breathe, Colt.” Her voice broke and she couldn’t inhale a full breath. “Some days get so dark I wonder if I’ll ever see light again. Between infertility, wondering if you’re going to return after your missions, and dealing with your mother,I’m drowning.”
“My mother?”
“My head is underwater,” she whispered. “I just…I need something to change. I need a break.”
“From me?”
“Fromeverything. From the world I’ve created for myself. I need to figure out how not to feel broken.”
Colt’s world tilted.No, it fucking spun off its axis, and he had no idea how to pull it back into place.
He stepped forward, craving her touch. “Indie. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me. But you can’t end this marriage. I love you. And you love me.”
A single tear slid down her cheek, and it gutted him. Everything about this moment made him feel like there was no version of him that could get out of this whole.
Another step forward, the need to touch her suffocating him. “Please…let me be here for you. Let me make this right.” He reached out a hand.
“Don’t—please.”
He stopped, the agony in her voice weaving inside him. He was so used to having answers. Being decisive. In his line of work, you had to be if you wanted to survive. But this? He had no fucking clue what to do.
This pain in Indie’s eyes wasn’t new. He’d known she was hurting. Known she’d been struggling for a while. Infertility was hard. But when had it gottenthisbad? When had she become this despondent, this deep in her grief?
He’d missed it. Yes, he worked a job that demanded a lot of him. Yes, he was away a lot, but Indie was hiswife. He should have seen how bad things had gotten.
“Don’t ask me to leave,” he whispered. “Fight for us. Fight forme.”
Another tear slid down her cheek. “I’vebeenfighting, Colt. I’ve been fighting for so long, and now I’m just tired.” Her breathing hitched. “I need it to end.”
It? Meaning the pain? Or them?
It didn’t matter. Either way, she wanted him to leave. To step out of their house and accept thisbreak. But he couldn’t. His feet wouldn’t fucking move.
“Ican’tlose you,” he pushed, the shake in his voice something he’d never heard before.
“You already have. Because I’m not the Indie you married. I think I lost a little bit more of myself after each round of trying. I don’t know how many more pieces I can lose before I just disappear.”
“Then we’ll stop trying. We’ll take a break fromthat, not us.”
Her breathing grew faster. So fast, she pressed a hand to her chest. “No. I need you to leave. I need…” Her chest heaved.
“Let me be here for you.”
She shook her head. “I need space tobreathe.” When he didn’t move, her voice grew louder, desperation coating each word. “Please, Colt, let me breathe without you here. Let me figure out how to save myself.”
