The bathroom was a mess, leftover toothpaste and hairs were scattered in the sink, beard and hair product splayed on the granite. A layer of dust coated the edges of the counter.
I grabbed a rag from the drawer and wiped off a spot on the granite, all while he just stood stiffly, watching me. Every few seconds I had to glance out of the corner of my eye. I know I’d done the disappearing, but it felt like if I looked away for too long,hemight vanish.
Once there was a spot for him to sit, I grabbed him by the elbows and guided him to the counter. He pushed up onto the granite and peeled off his T-shirt, tossing it on the floor. I didn’t even try to stop my gaze from roving over his muscles. It took everything in me not to reach out and run my hands over them.
“I don’t want to get hair on my shirt,” he said, his tone indifferent. He was testing my willpower. Maybe punishing me a bit. He knew exactly what his naked chest did to me. I’d told him all about it on our honeymoon night while we made love. Being with him had cracked me open and all the things I never thought I’d say had spilled out. Now he was using my words against me.
I plugged the clippers in, shoved his knees apart, stepped between them, and got to work. His eyes stayed trained on my face, never straying, as if he was trying to break me with the mere force of his gaze. Or maybe he was worried I might disappear too. The body heat from his thighs warmed my hips and it took all my self-discipline to focus on the trim.
“You’re still wearing your ring,” he said after a minute.
“Of course.” I dropped a handful of hair into the wastebasket. “Isn’t that what married people do?” Heat crept up my neck.Married people stay. They don’t take off the morning after.
“Married people.” His expression was hard. He scooted away an inch so that his legs were no longer touching me. I felt the small adjustment keenly.
I dared to glance down at his left hand, something I hadn’t let myself do yet. He’d taken off his ring. That realization, dark and tar-like, slithered around my heart and tightened, making it hard to breathe. Tears seared my eyelids.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. But I could hardly hear it over the constant thrumming of blood in my ears.
I buzzed off another chunk and dropped it into the trash, tears splashing down my cheeks. “You’re not wearing your ring.”
For a moment, his expression was indecipherable.
“What did you expect? You marry me, make love to me, and then disappear for five months.” He stood up, forcing mebackward. Then he took the clippers out of my trembling hands, turned them off, and set them on the counter.
“But I’m not done,” I said through a sob.
“Tally, why are you here? You’re risking your life, for what? Totrim my beard?” His jaw jutted. “Or maybe you came at night, hoping to slip inside and get whatever it was that you forgot, and slip out again without me ever knowing.”
I knew that’s how it looked, but it was so far from the truth. Did he have any idea what it had taken for me to come here? I leaned against the glass wall of the shower, my hands covering my eyes.
It took at least ten seconds to push the words through my vocal cords. “I’m sorry for how I left, okay? I’m sorry for lying to you. I was going to tell you everything. That morning. As soon as you woke up.”
His fist slammed against the counter. “Why didn’t you take me with you?” His pain echoed off the walls and there were tears in his eyes. “Why did you make that choice for me?”
I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see his hurt. So I looked at the floor. “It’s against the rules. You’re not supposed to tell anyone about your former life. Not even your spouse. In case things turn sour.”
“Things weren’t going to turn sour!” His voice cracked. “You know that!”
I did. There was no doubt in my mind, he was right. If our plans hadn’t derailed we would’ve had one of those love stories where we were together and happy until the very end. One day, we’d be sitting on the front porch in our rocking chairs, white haired, wearing dentures. I’d be reading to him because his eyes had gone bad and I’d look over and he would be gone. Or vice versa.
My hand pressed against my chest, trying to slow my heart. “You have to understand, I had thirty seconds to make thatdecision. There you were, sleeping so peacefully, and I couldn’t do that to you.” I stifled a sob. “It’s a life sentence. You’d have to give up teaching. Forget ever getting a book deal. Change your name. Move anytime they told you to. There’d be no such thing as putting down roots. You’d have to say goodbye to your family. Forever. It’s an all-in commitment. No communication. No letters. Nothing. I couldn’t do that to you. To them.”There’d been no doubt in my mind that he would’ve come. But five or ten years from now he might’ve resented me. It wasn’t a thirty-second decision like choosing which cereal to eat for breakfast, or what shirt to wear that day.
His fists clenched and his knuckles turned white. “We should probably get this marriage annulled.” He shrugged like my words hadn’t fazed him at all, but the betrayal was all over his face. “Obviously, you don’t understand what any of our vows meant. Marriage is a commitment between two people. You make decisions together. Mutually. Just like that decision should’ve been made.”
My fingers balled against my side, my mostly torn heart severing the rest of the way. I’d hurt him so much. I’d hurt myself. “I haven’t broken my vows. Not for a second. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I was doing what they told me to do.”
His hand rubbed over his beard that was only three quarters trimmed. “So if you made the right choice then, why are you here now?”
I hugged myself, my knees shaking. “Because Imissyou. Desperately. I cry myself to sleep every night. Every day without you is the worst kind of torture. I should’ve let you decide for yourself. But it felt selfish to ask that of you.” I took a beat, willing my lungs to slow down. “I guess I’m selfish though, because I came to ask you to come back with me. I tried not to end up here. I stopped myself twice already. Gotall the way to Richmond, turned around, and hopped back on a plane to Charleston. But it’s like that one Charlotte Brontë quote, ‘As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you.’ I can’t stay away from you anymore.”
His expression was stone, completely unreadable. May as well lay itallout there.
“And, I came for another reason…” I bit my lip. “Here’s the thing?—”
“Don’t youhere’s the thingme,” he demanded. “Every time those words come out of your mouth, you flip my world upside down!”
“Ash,” I said quietly, fighting my tears. Then I bravely tethered my gaze to his. “You’re going to be a dad.”
