Page 67 of If I Didn’t Have You

When I was done, I wobbled on unsure legs back to bed, guided by his arm around my waist. The moment I was under the covers, I passed out, not waking up until the sun was setting.

When I rolled over, I was surprised to find him in the armchair, his head crooked at an awkward angle as he slept.

So, it wasn’t a dream. He really was here the whole time, taking care of me when I had kicked him out. I didn’t entirely understand why, and I wasn’t sure I cared at the moment. I was just grateful he had been here.

Slipping out of bed as quietly as possible, I had to brace myself against the bed as dizziness washed over me. I still wasn’t at one hundred percent, or even seventy percent, but as I made my way to the bathroom, I was relieved that I didn’t feel like vomiting.

“Are you feeling better?” Ben asked, surprising me as I crept back to bed a few minutes later.

Gasping, I held my hand to my chest, hoping my heart didn’t thump right out of my chest. “Geezus, you scared me.”

“Sorry.”

“Why are you sleeping in the chair?” I asked as I crawled back into bed.

“I didn’t think I’d be welcome in bed with you.”

His throaty rumble eased my nerves, lulling me back to sleep. But before I could drift back off into the land of slumber, he said something that shocked the hell out of me.

“I’m sorry.”

My eyes popped open, and even in the fading light, I could see the sincerity on his face. I couldn’t remember the last time Ben had apologized for anything. His pride usually got in the way of admitting when he was wrong.

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing slowly together. Waves of discomfort rolled off him, but I paid no attention to that as I waited with bated breath for his next words.

“I know I haven’t been easy to live with lately, and I’m sorry for that. Hell, there’s so much I need to apologize for.”

When he finally looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine, I was taken aback by the misery in their depths.

“You deserved so much more. You needed a husband who loved and cared for you, and I…I failed miserably at that.”

Getting to his feet, he walked around to my side of the bed and sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. “Tell me I haven’t screwed things up beyond repair. Tell me we can work this out.”

I desperately wanted to. The words lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I also knew that a simple apology wouldn’t fix what was wrong with us. Yes, he realized things were bad, but would he actually take the steps to change his behavior? I couldn’t give him false hope. I couldn’t pretend that one night of sitting by my side and taking care of me would repair the years of damage he’d inflicted.

“What’s changed?” I croaked out.

“What do you mean?”

I shifted into a more comfortable position, looking squarely at him. “I appreciate you spending the night with me and taking care of me. More than you could possibly know. But it doesn’t fix what’s wrong with us.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” I didn’t mean for the words to come out so harshly, but between feeling so exhausted and the knowledge that this one simple gesture didn’t fix a damn thing, I didn’t have the patience this morning.

“Yeah, I know I’ve screwed up,” he snapped, his words lacking the sincerity and softness of moments before. “But I can’t fix a damn thing if I’m not here.”

“That might be true, but I’m just not ready for things to go back to the way they were.”

“Who said they would?”

“Ben, you can’t honestly expect me to believe that you’ve had some great epiphany, and now things are going to magically turn around.”

Shoving to his feet, he paced away from me, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t get it. I’m back here. I took care of you all night. I respected your boundaries, and yet, that’s still not good enough!”

“And what’s going to happen when you come home?” I asked, trying to hold my temper. “What’s going to change?”

“I’m going to change!” he shouted. “I know I haven’t been here for you. I know I’ve let things slide.”