I turned to face him. “Tell me what you’re thinking—and no bullshit.”
Even in the dark, I saw how his jaw clenched.
“You know what I’m thinking,” he bit out.
I did, but I wanted to hear it.
I waited him out.
Tell me that you miss me and want me back.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, frustration radiating off him. “Fine.” He let his hands fall again, and he suddenly looked ten years older. “Of course it hurts hearing you talk about remarrying. We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together.” He swallowed as his eyes started glistening. “Now I keep thinking…someone else is going to watch you smoke a cigar. Someone else is going to create memories with you, go on vacations with you, and—and grow old with you.”
Fuck you, Aceyboy. He’s mine.
I took a step toward him as stupid hope rushed through me. “Say the word and I’ll move back in. You think I like any of this? This entire year can go fuck itself.”
He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. “You can’t say that to me.” At the same time, he planted his hands on my chest—to push me away or to pull me in, I didn’t know yet.
If he was anywhere near surrender, I had to take the chance.
“I’ll say whatever I want,” I murmured, my heart beating faster. I swallowed my nerves. “I miss you, Nathan. I miss you every goddamn day and night.”
He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but I took it as a good sign when he grabbed at my shirt.
“We could be a family again in a second.” I reached out and cupped his cheek.
“Nothing has changed,” he croaked. “I can’t be with someone who admits to missing a part of himself that he’s too scared to explore.”
I gnashed my teeth but reined it in. “Is the alternative better? Are you happy?”
His shoulders sagged a little, hopefully in defeat.
“Tell me what you want right now.” I inched closer and rested my forehead to his, and I slipped my hands back to his neck.“I can back off…or I can take care of you. Remind you that we belong together—that you’re mine.”
He shuddered violently.
My heart was officially hammering, and I could hear a rushing sound in my ears.
I was so close.
“It’s your choice, baby…” I brushed my lips to the corner of his mouth.
I knew what he was doing. He was trying to convince himself to put a stop to this, just…a little bit more. He wanted to indulge.
It reminded me of back in the day when I’d try to dirty-talk him into calling in sick at work. Fuck delivering pizzas. I’d wanted to have him close to me all hours of the day from the start.
That hadn’t changed.
I cleared my throat quietly. “Do you remember when?—”
“Don’t.” He wrenched back with a pained expression, and he shook his head and opened his eyes. “Remembering isn’t the problem, Ash. It’s that I can’t fucking forget.” His gaze turned pleading while all hope drained out of me. “You have to stop. We can’t go down this road again. When you moved out—itbrokeme.”
Because it’d been the worst decision we ever made! Christ, he had to see that. He had to see we belonged together. He’d ruined me for all others the first fucking day we’d met, when he’d burst out of that office to give a brash scaffolder a piece of his mind for ruining their work environment.
I’d ruined him too. He’d lost his words when he’d seen me. For a moment anyway.
Anger and rejection simmered below the surface, but none of it held a candle to the sorrow that overcame me. He’d made up his mind.
