Page 196 of The Song We Lost

“No.” Her voice cracked, “No more vague answers. No more ignoring the elephant in the room… because I am trying so hard to understand what was real and what wasn’t.”

Every word hurt and the old me wanted to protect myself, defend, make excuses. Instead I took a deep breath and listened.

“You disappeared on me,” she whispered. “You left me alone inside our marriage and I kept telling myself if I just loved you enough… if I just waited long enough… eventually you’d come back to me. But youneverdid. You broke us… You broke me enough that I had to walk away from the only man I ever loved and file for divorce…”

I physically felt myself breaking apart listening to her.

“And now suddenly…” She laughed bitterly through tears. “Now suddenly you’re this man I always thought you could be. You show up. You listen. You hold me when I fall apart. You look at me like…” Her voice collapsed briefly. “Like I’m still your person.”

“You are.” The words came out instantly. Because there wasn’t anything more true. She was my person, the love of my life and I failed her, but I would never do that again.

Bailey shut her eyes hard like hearing that physically hurt.

“Then why wasn’t I enough for you to choose me?” she whispered.

The real wound opened between us. Because it didn’t start with Kacey, the pills or the tabloids.

I moved closer carefully, stopping just in front of her. “You were never the problem.”

Her jaw tightened instantly. “Then explain it to me because I don’t understand.”

I nodded slowly. Because she deserved the truth now. All of it.

“I spent our whole relationship thinking I had to earn my place beside you.”

Bailey blinked at me through tears. “What? I never…”

“I know how insane that sounds,” I said quietly. “But it’s the truth.”

The wind howled softly through the trees around us while I forced myself not to look away from her.

“You were always…” I shook my head trying to find the words. “Bailey you’ve always been bigger than life to me. Even here. Even when we were kids and had nothing. You walked into every room like you carried sunlight within you.”

Tears slipped silently down her face now, I wanted to pull her into my arms. But we needed to do this. This needed to be said.

“And instead of feeling lucky enough that you loved me…” I laughed bitterly at myself. “I got scared.”

“You were never scared of me.”

“No,” I admitted softly. “I was scared of losing you.”

That made her go still.

“I kept thinking eventually you’d wake up and realize you deserved better than me. Someone more successful. More polished. Someone who fit beside the version of you the world was building.”

“Luke…”

“So I started chasing.” My voice cracked slightly. “I thought if I got successful enough… famous enough… if I built something separate from you… then maybe I’d finally feel good enough to stand beside you.”

She stared at me silently while snow settled softly into her hair.

“And instead,” I whispered, “I just kept moving further away from the only thing I actually wanted.”

Bailey wiped angrily at her face, saying, “That still doesn’t explain Kacey. Or the drinking. Or the pills. Or missing Sadie’s wedding.”

“No.” I nodded painfully. “It doesn’t.”

Because those things were mine. My choices. My damage.