“My…spark?”
“I miss your spark, your fire,” he says, cupping my face gently with one hand, holding my hip with the other so our bodies are flush, watching me closely.
My blank stare must tell him I have no clue what he’s talking about.I’ve felt pretty fucking fiery lately. I was close to setting fire to his balls once or twice in the past few weeks. Not sure what more of a spark he wants from me.
“My… fire?” I look around the patio, brows high. “This wasn’t enough for you? You got a kink I don’t know about?”
He smirks at me, winking again. “You know all my kinks, baby.”
Damn if that doesn’t set off a handful of butterflies deep and low in my stomach. His kinks just so happen to perfectly match mine, and I love his dirty side as much as I love his wholesome, dorky dad side.
His face draws serious again, brows tight and low. “I mean it, though. There was that Chrissy fire that was always in everything you did. You were the hottest shit around and you fucking knew it, baby. You still are, but somewhere along the way, that spark has left your eyes. I feel like it’s my fault somehow, and I’ve been trying to figure out what I did to chase it away. You used to light up every time you looked at me, and it would just fucking draw me in.”
His gorgeous blue eyes bounce between mine, right, then left, then right again. “One goddamn look from you would get me hard.” He pauses, remembering something, eyes alight. “It was a problem, actually.” One side of his mouth lifts in a smile, his tongue wetting his lower lip, but I ignore the tease in his voice, too busy being floored by his observation.
I truly didn’t think he’d noticed the change in my attitude over the last weeks, months, years. Actually, I couldn’t tell you when it started if I tried.Iknow I’ve been fucking different for ages. Lessme,if that makes sense. Buthehasn’t mentioned it to me before, and I didn’t really consider that he had picked up on my shift. That was part of what’s pissed me off so bad, actually.
A budding realization, the implication behind his words sets in and, oh boy, is he getting his wish. My spark feels pretty damn sparky right now.
Is he actually blaming me for him not being attracted to me anymore? On this ‘missing fire’ or whatever?
Only one reason for that shift in my attitude toward him comes to mind, and I couldn’t hold it back if I wanted to. I spend the entire night telling him how he isn’t attracted to me anymore, and he turns around and blames it on me?
“You want my fire, Chance? It probably died when your attraction to me did. I’m guessing after Eleanor’s birth. It’s hard to have that confidence and that fucking spark, as you called it, when I’m constantly depressed about how my husband doesn’t fuckingwantme after what four pregnancies have done to my body.”
I instantly feel the teensiest bit bad for going off at him when he just gave me the sweetest goddamn speech I’ve ever heard, but I still feel like he isn’t attracted to me, and wordswon’tchange that.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never doubted that he’slovedme, only that he’swantedme. I couldn’t tell you why that’s so important to me, maybe because of how physical our relationship was at the start, maybe I’m just a shallow bitch, but it fucking is.
“Then I have failed you as your man, as your husband.” His eyes shine in the dim patio light, and I wonder if I am going to see this man cry for the first time in my life. “My entire role as your husband is to protect you and our children, provide for you, make you feel safe and cherished, andwanted. And I haven’t, evidently.”
My fire instantly cools, guilt gripping my gut. “You’ve done so many of those things, Chance,” I whisper, and he clasps my cheeks in both of his hands now, resting his forehead against mine as we both struggle to keep our tears at bay.
He does provide for us.
I never feel anything but safe with him.
It’s just… the feeling wanted that has waned over time.
“I let you down. I let you think I didn’t want you, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth. You are... everything to me, baby.” He struggles for a second, taking staggered breaths.
I hate myself for making him feel this way.
But I hate him for making me feel this way, too.
“It has killed me to feel us drifting apart. We have everything we could possibly need when we’re together.” His voice actually breaks when he says, “Please. We just need to be together, and everything will work out. Let me show you. Let me show you, Di.”
A tear slips out of my right eye and runs down my face, and with his hands still pressed to my cheek, his forehead still pressed to mine, he wipes it away with a thumb. “I’m so sorry I didn’t make you feel cherished every fucking day. I want you to know how much I’ve wanted you this whole time, Di. That’s never stopped. But I need you tolet me prove it to you. Don’t fight me on this.”
Now.
Now is the time to tell him you saw him, Christina. Come clean. Don’t be a wimp.
But too big of a part of me doesn’twantto know. I can’t handle hearing him tell me he looks at other women. Maybe that’s not reasonable to expect of a man, but I fucking can’t. He ismyhusband.
I.
Don’t.
