Page 23 of Everlasting Vows

But I haven’t wanted to share about my failing marriage with anyone. Telling her I failed in my marriage will make it more real, and I’m not ready to admit it to anyone; I’ve barely admitted it to myself.

That I’ve given up.

Gosh, Nix has been part of Callie’s life since she was a baby. She doesn’t know me without Nix by my side. How will she take the breakdown of my marriage?

When I finally get brave enough to lift my eyes from my napkin, I’m greeted with her narrowed, all-seeing gaze. I swallow hard and draw a deep breath, paste on a smile, and answer her with a careless shrug. “I don’t know.”

She straightens, her smile disappearing. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” she says softly, hurt dripping from every syllable.

Everything’s still so raw and uncertain. I’m not sure where Nix and I stand. We shared a kiss last night. An incredible kiss that I can still feel tingling on my lips. It felt like … a promise … an oath sealed with heartbreak.

I’m not sure I can tell her without breaking down, and I definitely don’t want to make a spectacle of myself in the restaurant with so many people around. I chuckle, hopefully humorously. “I’m sure there’s plenty I’m not telling you. You haven’t given me a chance to speak since we sat down.”

If it’s even possible, her face drops further and her shoulders curl inward. “Sissy,” she breathes, her eyes begging me to share my truth.

I’m her big sister. I’m supposed to look after her. Be there for her. It’s not meant to be the other way around. This feels off-balance and wrong on so many levels. I already feel like my world is collapsing beneath my feet, the ground so shaky I don’t know how I’m still standing. I was always the one offering her advice, and now … I shake my head.

Callie reaches across the table and links her fingers with mine, the way she always did when she was a child. “What’s going on?” She knows me well enough to read my body language and understand that something isn’t right. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere quiet so we can talk.”

She slides to the edge of her seat and pushes to her feet, heading straight to the cashier to pay for our meals. I’m too discombobulated to argue with her tonight. Once I’m by her side, she grips my hand like a child and drags me out to the sidewalk. Looking in both directions, she must come to a decision, and tugs me forward. We arrive at a coffee shop that’s almost abandoned since it’s dinnertime, and she shoves me through the door. “Take a seat. I’ll grab us each a coffee.” She tips her head toward the far back corner, and I nod, then follow her directions on autopilot, all the while doing my best to get my thoughts in order.

Callie loves Nix like a brother. How do I tell her our marriage is pretty much over? Sure, Nix says he wants to save it, and I agreed to give him a chance, but I’m not convinced he’ll follow through when it means dividing his time between us and Steele Security. I don’t begrudge him working hard to build his business. It’s important to him, and he needed … something to fill the hole left behind when he lost his friend, Wyatt, and retired from the Army Rangers.

I get it. I do.

But it’s cost us so much. More than I ever imagined. And not dollars either. Time. It’s cost us time. Every late night and weekend he worked instead of coming home. Every text message, call, and email he answered instead of talking to me. Building his offices instead of doing necessary maintenance around our house or creating the backyard we always wanted.

I just wish he’d chosen us instead.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, Callie places two cups of coffee on the table and slides into the seat opposite me. My stomach churns like a stormy ocean with what I’m about to tell her. I know I’m about to break her heart.

“Are you sick?” Callie blurts, her eyes cataloging everything.

I look at her as if she’s told me she’s flying to Mars. “What? No, of course not,” I tell her, shaking my head as if my words aren’t enough on their own.

“Is Nix sick?”

I shake my head. “No. He’s perfectly healthy.” God, is he perfectly healthy. The man looks fantastic considering he’s almost fifty. He’s still got it. He still makes my stomach flutter and heart beat faster whenever he’s near. So unfair.

Her eyes widen, and she shifts forward in her seat. “Is Murphy okay? He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

I reach for her hand and tangle our fingers together. “No. He’s perfectly fine. I … we spoke with him this morning.” I squeeze her fingers. “Everyone’s safe and healthy.”

The rigidity in her shoulders disappears, and she tilts her head. “Then tell me what’s going on. I know something’s wrong. And I know you well enough to sense it’s something serious.”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and my skin feels too tight. The words simmer in my mind and burn in my throat. I swallow to hold them back, but it’s no use. “I asked Nix for a divorce on Thursday morning,” I blurt, then immediately burst into tears. Not delicate tears suitable for public spaces. No, total body shaking, ugly sobs. I pride myself on my composure. Of being able to compartmentalize my life. I rarely have a problem with feeling one way and showing the world another. It was a necessary skill I developed growing up. So, breaking down like this is foreign for me and I don’t understand why I can’t keep it together.

The scrape of metal on old laminate flooring grates through the coffee shop, and a slender arm wraps around my shoulders, tugging me into my sister’s voluptuous chest with surprising strength. I fall into her. Embarrassed I’ve let my emotions get the best of me.

Her hand cups the back of my head, and she whispers, “Shhh” in my ear and, “You’re going to be okay.”

I wish I could believe her. Nothing will be the same if we can’t save our marriage. I don’t know how to be me without Nix. He’s been part of the fabric of my life for so long. Our threads are woven together so tightly that teasing them apart will increase their fragility. Make them unusable. How do I stitch my life back together after Nix? But I can’t stay with him out of fear for the future either.

I’m not sure how long it takes for my tears to subside and my body to stop shaking, but once I have more control, I pull away from my sister. She hands me a wad of tissues with a sad smile, and I take them gratefully. I glance around until I see the sign for the bathroom, then turn back to Callie. “I’m just gonna go clean up.”

She nods. “Take your time. I’ll wait.”

She needs to head off soon, and I don’t want her driving late into the night, so I know she can’t wait forever. Hurrying to the bathroom, I step inside and wash my face with shaky hands. The cool water is a shock on my heated skin, and when I look up into the mirror, red, blood-shot eyes peer back at me. My nose is practically glowing, and my face is puffy and swollen. There’s no way to hide that I’ve been crying. I grab a paper towel and blot my cheeks, forehead, and eyes, holding it in place for a few moments while I catch my breath.