Page 51 of Everlasting Vows

“Marriage isn’t easy, Sweet Pea, and it’s not for the faint of heart. You need to listen to your partner, own your mistakes, and make necessary changes to show them how important they are to you. Both of you need to communicate your needs before they become problems, and you must show up with your actions, not just your words. Marriage is about giving more than you take.” Something I haven’t been doing. I’ve been doing all the taking while Abbi’s been doing all the giving—no wonder she’s fed up and exhausted. I glance at the flowers I bought her tonight, and guilt rolls through my stomach when I think about how long it’s been since I bought her flowers or took her on a date. Since I made any effort to woo my wife.

“Mom and I aren’t perfect, Prue. I feel as though you look at us through rose-colored glasses and think we’re doing everything right. We’re not … well, I’m not. We have difficult times, but we make it through because we’re both prepared to put the effort in.” I kiss her forehead again. “You can’t expect your marriage to be perfect 100 percent of the time. You’ll be disappointed if you do, and it’s unrealistic.”

“I love your mom, and I’ll never stop loving her. It doesn’t mean I don’t mess up, because I do … big time.” Understatement of the year. “I’m lucky your mom loves me and is patient and kind enough to give me the opportunity to make amends when I mess up. Marriage means forgiving your partner when he or she messes up … I don’t mean if they assault you or cheat on you, I mean maybe they lose focus on what’s important for a while or forget to show you how important you are to them.” I peer into her warm brown eyes as she listens intently, reminding me of when she was little and I would teach her something new. “Sometimes you need to give your partner grace, and other times you have to accept grace from your partner.”

She smiles up at me, showcasing her dimples. “Thanks, Dad. I know marriage isn’t easy and that Luke and I need to work hard. I don’t expect it to be free of trouble or problems. But you and Mom have made it this far, so you must be doing something right.”

“The one thing I did right was marry your mom. I recognized how amazing she was from the get-go, and I was lucky enough that she said yes when I asked her to marry me.”

Prue chuckles as she pokes my stomach. “She was lucky, too, you know.”

“That’s debatable,” I grumble.

She chuckles again as she presses up to kiss my cheek. “Stop it. You’re the best dad ever.”

Prue may think I’m the best dad ever, but I doubt it because I’m certainly not the best husband. I left Abbi to do the heavy lifting of raising the kids while I was away. Sure, I dedicated a significant amount of time to my family when I was home, but my absence outweighed my presence. While I was stuck in the trenches protecting our country, she was stuck in the trenches here, raising our family, and I’m not certain I can say my job was any more important than hers.

“Anyway, I’m going to bed. I have a job on the other side of town in the morning, and I have to get moving early.” She pushes away. “Good night.”

“Night, Sweet Pea. Sweet dreams.” I smile when she blows me a kiss over her shoulder, then check that the house is secure and set the alarm.

Grabbing a fresh glass of water, I head to my bedroom, stopping at our closed bedroom door on the way. I press my hand to the wood and dip my forehead, sadness washing over me that I can’t sleep beside my wife like a regular husband. It’s the worst kind of torture knowing she’s in bed in the room down the hall from me and I can’t join her, but I’d never forgive myself if I woke in the night with my hands wrapped around her throat again, her eyes wide in panic, her nails scratching at my arms and her legs kicking out looking for an escape. The traumatic memory of strangling my wife during my night terror is as fresh as the night it happened, and acidic bile rises up my throat. I promised to always keep her safe, even if that means keeping her safe from myself.

It’s one promise I made, and I intend to keep at all costs. Even if it means sleeping apart from my wife.

18

NIX

I glance at the clock. Five. My lips tip up, and pride expands in my chest. I have plenty of time to finish up here and make it to Stone Tower to surprise my wife with a trip down memory lane. It’s amazing how much better I’ve become at managing my time since I started delegating to my staff, and they’ve easily stepped up to the challenge of more responsibility.

Maybe I’ve been a bit of a control freak. I shrug at the thought. Probably. But it comes with the territory. I had to be in control of every single aspect of my men and our missions. I mean, look what happened when I let something slide. I lost a good man, and another good man was badly injured.

I still need to employ more staff to lighten the load further, but things are improving for me. If Abbi hadn’t asked for a divorce, I’d still be slogging away and burning the midnight oil. Her request, as much as it destroyed me, has been the kick up the ass I needed.

I tidy my desk, ensuring everything lines up perfectly, then do one last check that next week’s roster and job sheets are up to date, and shut down my laptop. The alert on my phone buzzes, letting me know it’s time to leave if I want to make it to Abbi before she leaves the office. Harry’s suggestion to use the alarm and timer on my phone to keep track of time was genius. I grab my keys and close my office door behind me, walking down the hallway to the back exit with purposeful strides and success resting on my shoulders.

Ten minutes from my office, I pull into the parking lot behind one of Abbi’s favorite corner stores. I was surprised to learn that Mr. and Mrs. B still own the store. They sell all the regular items you expect to find in a corner store, as well as Mrs. B’s delicious homemade pies, cakes, and pastries that Abbi used to love.

Climbing out of my truck, I have a spring in my step and a smile on my lips as I take the cracked sidewalk to the front of the store. The moment I enter, the scent of baked goods wafts around me, and I close my eyes, soaking in the warmth and memories this place holds.

“As I live and breathe, Nixon Steele is in my store,” a familiar voice calls. “Long time no see! Where have you been hiding?”

I snap my eyes open with a grin as I stride toward Mr. B. “Mr. B. It’s been too long. How are you and Mrs. B?”

Instead of answering, he takes a few steps toward the door that leads to the back of the store. “Annie. Come out here.” Then he comes back to me and shakes my hand. “We’re great. A little older and a little slower, but we’re still here.” He chuckles mildly.

A young woman wearing a backpack enters the store, distracting Mr. B for a moment as he greets her in his usual warm, friendly manner—nothing’s changed. I watch her for a moment as she heads toward the back of the store where the fridges are.

Mrs. B steps out from the back, concentrating on wiping her hands on her apron. “What’s so urgent, Martin?” she grumbles. When she finally looks up and her eyes land on me, her lips tip up instantly, and she makes her way out from behind the counter with her arms outstretched. Her white curls bounce on her shoulders as she waddles her way toward me. She’s always had bad knees from the sports she played in her younger days, and I can see they’ve only gotten worse over the years. “Oh my goodness, Nixon.” She closes her arms around me, and I return her embrace. “It’s been so long.” She pulls away and cups my bristly cheek. “You look so handsome.”

Mr. B clears his throat. “Eh, I’m right here, woman.”

She scoffs at him and winks at me. “I know.”

Mr. B huffs, and I chuckle. We spend the next few minutes catching up as if no time has passed at all as more people enter the small store.

Young woman still by the fridges, a guy who spends too much time at the gym by the protein bars, a middle-aged guy checking out Mrs. B’s pies, and another guy about my age heading toward the counter with snacks and drinks.