Page 29 of Everlasting Vows

Between one breath and the next, Abbi’s mouth is pressed to mine, her fingers twisted in my sweater, pulling me close. I cup her face in my hands, feeling the wetness of her tears against my palms. Each one may as well be a shard of glass, ripping through my heart. I can’t undo what I’ve already done, but I can show her with my kisses and my actions that I’ll do everything in my power to never make the same mistakes. I deepen our kiss, taking everything she’s offering and giving back twice as much. This kiss is my apology, and it’s my promise that things will be different this time.

Abbi slows the kiss too soon and presses her forehead to mine. As we both work hard to catch our breath, I swipe my thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Nix.” Hope unfurls bright in my chest that she still loves me. “But I’ve finally learned I need to love myself more.” Her dark eyes bore into mine. “I need more in our marriage than sharing a house.” Guilt replaces hope, punching it down until it’s almost unrecognizable. “I miss you. I miss us. I miss talking with you late into the night. We never talk anymore,” she murmurs, untangling her fingers from my sweater. She presses her hand flat against my chest, over my heart. “I miss my best friend. My husband. My lover. We’ve kissed more tonight than I can remember. We used to love kissing for the sake of kissing.” She laughs, but it’s hollow. “I swear I went through a tube of aloe vera every six months to combat the beard rash because we were always kissing.”

I remember those days. “I always felt so guilty that your face was so red.”

“I didn’t care.” She pauses. “Not a bit.”

We both grow quiet as we look at each other. Our eyes locked. My breath catches and pain lances my heart at the deep hurt I see in Abbi’s, knowing I’m the one who put it there. I don’t look away. I need to see it. Feel it deep in my core. I need to remember this moment. I do my best to portray my promise to do better. To be the man she deserves. To rebuild us from the ground up.

Her eyes answer, begging me not to hurt her again, and I reiterate my promise. “I promise to take care of your heart, Abbi. You’re safe with me.” I press my lips against hers. “Give me a chance to show you I can take care of you the way you deserve.”

“Please don’t hurt me again, Nix. I won’t survive.”

I shake my head adamantly. “I won’t.”

Her eyes flick between mine. “Okay,” she whispers.

One quiet word and the tension coiled in my stomach releases. I smile against her lips. “Okay?”

A small whisper of a voice reminds me she agreed to give me a chance three weeks ago, then practically ghosted me. Does she really mean it? Will she give me … us a second chance?

She nods, uncertainty still etched in the strain around her eyes and mouth. “Okay.”

I slip my fingers into her silky hair, bunching it in my fist, and tug her head back. Our eyes grip and hold. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now kiss me, Nix.”

I waste no time following her instruction. Our kiss goes from zero to sixty in no time as I guide her to straddle me. And there … on the bleachers where I first laid eyes on her, I kiss her. Hoping she can taste the promises on my tongue. The promises to be a better husband. A better friend. I kiss her like a long-lost lover who’s been deprived of affection for far too long. And I kiss her with a heart full of hope for a brighter, stronger future together.

11

ABBI

As soon as I open the door into the house, the delicious smell of barbecue fills my nose. It’s been so long since Nix cooked one of his famous barbecues. It’s such a simple meal, but oh so delicious. My stomach rumbles in response, so I press my hand across it to keep the hunger pangs at bay. I toe off my shoes and hang my coat on the hook near the door of the mudroom.

The house is warm and inviting, a far cry from how it’s been the last few years when I’ve been the first person home and more recently, the only person home if Prue decides to stay at Luke’s place which happens more often than it doesn’t. But Nix has been home before me for weeks now, and as much as I appreciate him making our marriage a priority, I worry about what he’s giving up to do so.

I make my way into the kitchen, finding it empty. Pulling open the warming drawer, I find the barbecued meat and a potato dish waiting for us. I take a deep breath, savoring the delicious scents, and then close the drawer. A bottle of wine sits open on the counter with two glasses, but Nix is nowhere to be found. Maybe he’s out back. He’s been spending all of his free time working on the backyard, primarily the fire pit. I spot him at the half-finished fire pit with an unfamiliar man. He must be the owner of the truck parked out front.

I quickly grab my coat, jam my feet into my shoes, and head out back to join them. Nix looks like he’s explaining what he wants as the man nods, but when he spots me walking toward them, his eyes light up the way they used to. He steps away and comes toward me. My heart soars that he stopped what he was doing to greet me. It’s such a simple thing, but it means the world to me, especially when there was such a long period when he couldn’t be bothered.

He leans in and kisses my cheek. “How was your day?”

I grin up at him. “Good, busy. What’s happening out here?”

He takes my hand, leading me toward the fire pit and our guest. “I want you to meet the carpenter Gabe recommended. Remember, I told you how he worked on his parents’ home, building a ramp for his mom after she had a stroke.”

I nod and smile at the gentleman. “I remember. He did the work for free, right?”

“Yeah. He does that for elderly people as a way of giving back to the community. I know how important giving back to the community is for you, so I thought he’d be the perfect choice.”

I press my hand to my stomach as it swoops down to my knees with Nix’s thoughtfulness and consideration of my priorities. This is the Nix I married. The man I fell in love with so long ago. He’s been missing for a long time, but slowly over the last few weeks, he’s been showing me the man I married. “He definitely sounds like someone we should work with.”

We stop in front of the man who’s a little taller than Nix. His blue eyes stand out against his olive complexion and dark hair. “Abbi. I’d like you to meet Theo Drivas.”

Theo holds out his hand, and I slide mine against his, noting the calluses, as we greet each other. “Hi, Theo.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, Abbi. You have a lot of space to work with here,” he tells me as he looks around our backyard with keen interest.