Page 10 of Everlasting Vows

God, I miss this. Miss him.

I’m so freaking weak-willed. I grip his suit jacket, holding him to me, unwilling to give up this moment, but I’m terrified of giving in and getting nowhere.

“I promise on everything I am that I’m going to work my ass off to save our marriage. To bring us back to where we should be as husband and wife. You deserve my everything, and I’m going to give it to you. I’ll put in the work and fix this, but you need to give me some time to get myself and my business sorted so I can make long-lasting change.” He looks deep into my eyes, and all I see is honesty and resolve. “Can you give me that?”

His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, but it feels a little itchy and uncomfortable even though he’s saying everything I want to hear. I squeeze my eyes closed against the ache in his voice. How did we get here?

I nod, silently begging him not to let me down again. To keep my heart safe.

It would be so much easier to walk away if I didn’t still love and respect my husband.

5

NIX

I walk into Steele Security with determination and lighter steps than I did yesterday. I can’t fuck this up. There’s too much riding on me to get this right. To make things right with Abbi. I never imagined I’d be the type of man to neglect his wife and family, but that’s exactly what I’ve done. My father would be disappointed in me if he were still alive. He always treated Mom like a queen, as if she was the beginning and end of his world. I bet she never felt invisible or neglected, even though he worked long hours in construction.

“Morning, Nix,” Gabriel calls as soon as I walk through the door. I can always rely on him to be here before me, no matter what time I start work. I swear he sleeps in one of the onsite suites we have out back. It probably doesn’t hurt that he lives ten minutes from the building.

“Morning. I need a minute, and then I want you in my office. Turn on the answering machine; I don’t want us to be disturbed while we talk.” I pause, rolling the tension in my neck. “It’s important.”

“Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.”

I nod as I step through my office door and close it behind me; the snick of the latch loud in the quiet room. First things first. I pull out my phone as I sit behind my desk to text Abbi.

Me

Thanks for hearing me out this morning. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to show you how sorry I am. I love you, Abbi. More than I’ve shown you. Have a great day, beautiful x

I watch my screen go dark. There’s no response, but I didn’t expect one with her current workload and feelings toward me. As I watched disappointment flash in her eyes, I could tell it cost her dearly to agree to give me a chance.

But that’s Abbi.

Always the giver.

She gives of herself fully and wholeheartedly, often to her own detriment.

I’m shattered and ashamed that I’ve taken so much from her that she has nothing left to give—that the only option she has left is to leave. How could I have been so oblivious to what was happening right in front of me?

I pull up the contact for Harry. He’s counseled hundreds of men and women who find solace at The Bunker—the one place returned servicemen can spend time without being judged for their emotional and physical wounds. If anyone can help me work through my bullshit, he can.

I press his number and bring the phone to my ear. It rings a few times, then his rich voice comes over the line. “Morning. Harry speaking.”

I blow out a long breath and grit my teeth, feeling the tension radiate through my jaw. Admitting I need help burns my throat, scorches me from the inside out. It makes me feel like a failure. I could lead my men into a myriad of horrendous situations, but I can’t hold my marriage together. That’s some bullshit right there.

I shove my ego down and respond. “Hey, Harry. Nix here.”

“Ah, Nix, my man. How’s it hanging?”

The blood in my veins feels like it’s rushing too fast, and spots form in front of my eyes. I squeeze them tight and swallow my pride. “Pretty good.”

He chuckles dryly. “Remember, I have a no-bullshit policy, Nix. You wouldn’t be calling if everything was ‘pretty good’,” he chastises me in his usual way, and a melancholy grin tips up one side of my mouth.

“I remember. Do you have any time for me to stop by today?” I don’t know why I didn’t stop in to see him yesterday when I was at The Bunker to work off my frustration. I trace the wood pattern on my oak desk and glance out of the window—not that I have a view, unless you count the grungy brick wall of the building next door.

“For you … always, young man.”

I grunt. “Not so young these days.”