Page 74 of Everlasting Vows

“He’s stable, and the doctors say he’ll adjust to his new reality.” I swallow the lump in my throat, making it difficult to get the words out. “We need to ensure he has the help he needs for his emotional and mental well-being as soon as possible. Even if he fights us on it. It’s important for his recovery.”

She nods as she drags the tomato off her burger and places it to the side of her plate. I break off a piece of the burger and feed her, ensuring she gets some form of protein into her body. Her lips touch my fingers, warm and delicate. I lean forward a little, flicking my eyes to hers, noting the sheen to them. She’s close to tears again, and I don’t blame her. As difficult as this is for me, I know it’s worse for her. I press my lips to hers tenderly and murmur, “He’ll be okay. We’ll make sure he is.”

She attempts a shaky smile, but all it does is send the tears building in her eyes over her lids and down her cheeks. Pain pierces my chest that she has to experience this again. I wasn’t in as bad shape as Murphy, but she’s already lived through this experience with me. I retired with the hope that she wouldn’t have to deal with this again.

25

ABBI

We finish eating, not that I could stomach much, brush our teeth, and I climb into bed. I’m exhausted, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep. I’m beyond devastated for Murphy. I don’t know how to cope with this new reality, and it’s not my limb that’s missing. My perfect little boy—not that he’s a boy anymore—is so broken, and there’s nothing I can do to make it better for him.

He was determined to follow in Nix’s footsteps and, as much as I wanted to forbid him, I couldn’t. He wasn’t a child; he was a young man who wanted to carve out his future in a way that leaned into his protective nature. I had to accept his decision to become an Army Ranger like his father, even though the idea terrified me.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve woken after a nightmare about this very scenario and a seed of guilt sprouts that I somehow made this happen. That my dreams somehow became reality, but that’s foolish, right? It’s impossible. But mom guilt is real, and I’ll never forgive myself if my nightmares somehow caused this to happen to Murphy.

The bathroom door opens and Nix stands in the opening only wearing his sleep pants. Bare chest and defined abs. Dark hair mixed with gray smattered across his pecs, leading to a trail that disappears beneath the waistband of his pants. I eye his crotch, and my body heats at the memory of having him inside me, against me, all over me in the shower. It was so hot.

I watch him watch me, then his eyes flick from the bed to the couch and back to me. The smallest of movements, but I don’t miss it. He wears his tension across his shoulders and on his face in the creases between his brows. It’s easy to recognize the anxiety he’s feeling about our sleeping arrangements, and my heart sinks through the mattress like a stone.

No.

He’s not sleeping on that tiny couch to avoid sharing a bed with me.

I watch and wait. What will he decide?

I hate to put him through these secret tests of mine, but I can’t help it. I want him to choose me. Choose us. And his hesitancy … it breaks something inside of me that had been restored only an hour ago. I thought we were getting somewhere. But obviously, I was mistaken.

My shoulders droop forward with no guidance from me as disappointment swoops through me, turning my stomach over and settling a blanket of ice over me. I can’t watch him settle on the couch, so I slide down the bed and turn my back to him.

“Good night,” I mumble into the room around the tightness in my throat. A familiar loneliness edging its way into my chest.

My nose burns and eyes well with hurt, so I squeeze them closed as tight as I can. I pull my legs up into my body, forming a tight ball, somehow trying to protect myself from the ache my husband’s rejection causes.

A heavy sigh fills the small room, followed by the rustle of blankets interrupting the silence, and the bed dips behind me. I hold my breath, waiting … hoping.

Will he stay? Will he go?

Is he just grabbing his pillow?

But then I feel the movement of the mattress and the sheet being tugged back up. Heat suffuses my back, and Nix’s arm pushes between the pillow and my shoulder, while his other wraps around my stomach. The next thing I know, he tugs me back toward him and wraps his body around mine, then presses a tender kiss to my shoulder. The relief that floods my body is instant and intense, and the tears I was working to hold back burst like a dam. A violent sob breaks free like an explosion, and Nix’s hold on me tightens. As my body shudders, he buries his face in the crook of my neck and kisses the skin there, his soft lips surrounded by his beard like heaven against my flesh.

“Shh, everything will be okay,” he whispers, his hot breath coating my neck. He follows his assurance with another soft kiss, and I turn my head on my pillow to face him.

He slides his hand up to cradle my face, his full of worry. Worry for me. And for the first time in a long time, we communicate without words.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I know.” And I do.

We feel … strong.

I roll to face him, placing my hand over his heart, appreciating its strength beneath my palm. His hand slides to the back of my head, and he uses my hair to tilt my face up to his. Closing the gap between us, he melds his lips to mine with a tenderness that almost makes me break again. Lingering touches and swipes of tongue against tongue makes me feel cherished.