Page 82 of Everlasting Vows

“Of course there’s a solution. We just need to find one that works for you. We already touched on this.” I hear his heavy exhale across the line. “But, Nix. You need to talk with Abbi about what happened and what’s going on for you. The root cause. It’s what she’ll need from you after an event like this.” He huffs. “And for goodness’ sake, don’t pull away from her. It’s the last thing your marriage needs.”

Easier said than done.

I open and close my hand, forming a fist so tight that my knuckles turn white. My gut wrenches as the image of my hands wrapped around my wife’s neck, of the terror in her eyes, the tears on her cheeks, and her thrashing to stop my attack assaults me. “Perhaps I’m being selfish by staying. She wanted a divorce. Maybe I should give it to her.”

28

ABBI

Soft light infiltrates my sleep, and awareness grows that it’s morning. I hold my eyes closed, wanting to remain in this dreamy place between sleep and wakefulness, but my bladder screams at me that time’s almost up.

Before I open my eyes, I know I’m alone. I can sense it. The room’s too silent, too still. I can’t hear Nix’s breathing and there’s no warmth beside me. I strain to listen harder; maybe he’s in the bathroom, but I don’t hear any water running or movement in there either. I turn my head to the side, wincing at the pain in my neck, to find Nix’s side of the bed still made. My heart sinks through the mattress to the floor beneath as I roll to my side, tucking my knees up to my chest, and study his side of the bed. Every part of my body hurts this morning after what happened. But it’s nothing compared to the pain in my heart at Nix pulling away. I knew he’d do it, but I was hopeful he wouldn’t.

Maybe he’s just gone to get us coffee.

I push myself up, groaning at the aches in my body, and step into the bathroom to do my business and shower. The warm water should help my sore muscles. I flick on the switch in the bathroom and startle at my reflection, though I don’t know why. I lean in closer—as if I really need to—and turn my neck from side to side, smoothing my fingers over the dark purple bruises. I study my eye and the blood filling the white space from a burst blood vessel. Nix can’t see this. If he sees the evidence of what he did during his night terror, he’ll never recover, and I don’t want to lose him.

I thought it was what I wanted.

Separate lives.

But I don’t.

We’ve come a long way since the day I asked for a divorce, and I’ll be damned if I lose what we’ve rebuilt. I study my throat like it’s a science experiment. I have a couple of turtleneck sweaters and a scarf I can use. I don’t think foundation will be enough to cover the bruising while it’s this dark, but I’ll work something out. My eye is going to be trickier to hide.

Turning the shower on so the water can warm up, I head out and grab my clothes. Still no Nix. I don’t know how much more my heart can take. Worry for Murphy is already testing my emotional resilience; I don’t know that I can handle Nix pulling away as well. I need him. I need his strength and support as we navigate Murphy’s injuries and recovery. I need us to be a team.

But above all of that, I need him to love me enough to want to stay.

I linger under the warm water for longer than necessary, hoping to give Nix enough time to get back to our room, because I’m not sure I can stand to walk out of this bathroom into an empty room. Once I’m dry, I apply more arnica and dress, then brush my teeth and apply a little makeup to cover the bags under my eyes.

Pausing, my hand resting on the door handle, I suck in a careful breath and listen at the door. I press my ear against the wood, but I can’t hear any movement on the other side. I steel my spine, ready to deal with disappointment. It won’t be the first time or the last.

I press down on the handle and pull the door inward, and when I step over the threshold into the room, I’m met with silence; however, a breakfast tray sits on the coffee table. Hope swiftly rises, and I adjust the neck of my sweater to make sure it’s covering my throat, but when I look more closely at the tray, I notice there’s only one plate of food and one cup of coffee. I glance out of the window to the balcony, hopeful he’s taken his breakfast to eat out there, but the space is empty.

My phone buzzes with a message, and I snatch it up, hope growing that it’s Nix.

Jase

My stomach sinks as I unlock my phone. Seven fifteen.

Hey Abbi

Just checking in on you guys

How’s Murphy doing?

And how are you and Nix holding up?

Me

Hi Jase

Thanks for checking in

I’m not sure when I’ll be back at work because Murphy hasn’t woken up yet

Jase