Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“Will be having a hysterectomy in January.”
I don’t know why, but I hurt for my ex-wife. Hell, maybe my emotions are just raw after worrying all night. My anxiety is magnified by the fact I’m standing two feet from Isabella, but she’s keeping me at a metaphorical arm’s length, so I might as well be two oceans away. “I hate that for her.”
“You mean that.” My wife sounds surprised.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Did Julia wrong me? She did. Do I want to see her—or your dad—pay any more for what they’ve done? I don’t give a shit about that now. I just want you.”
Isabella’s eyes well, and her jaw trembles. “Nathan…”
“Just listen. For two minutes. Please…”
She doesn’t answer for an interminable moment. Then she lets out a shuddering breath. I swear she’s going to refuse me, and my heart starts cracking apart and aching like a motherfucker.
“I had a whole speech prepared,” she chokes out.
“Of course you did. You’re smart, and you plan ahead. But I want to say a few things before you do anything final. Maybe what I tell you will impact how you feel.”
“There’s almost nothing you can say to change my mind, but I’ll hear you.”
With those words, the bottom falls out of my gut. Inside, I shake like a fucking leaf in a hurricane. Somehow, I hold myself together. “I’m sorry. If you don’t believe anything else I say, please know I truly mean that.”
“Duly noted.”
I blow out a breath, then let everything out. “Before I met you, all I wanted was revenge. I was unhappy. I was angry that I was unhappy. I blamed Julia and your father for stealing the future I saw for myself. So I schemed and plotted—something I’m good at. I studied you—on paper, anyway. I knew your age, your face, your alma mater, your friends. But I didn’t know you. You threw me a curveball I never saw coming. Your kindness, your passion, your spirit… I never thought I’d fall for you, much less fall head over heels. You made me see that what I really wanted was a second chance at love and family, and that I needed to let go of revenge and simply love you.”
“Nathan…” She sobs behind her hand. “Don’t—”
“Just let me finish. Everything I did was wrong. I seduced you. I threatened you. I coerced you. Then I married you against your will. I should have dated you, let you get to know me, then took you to bed and to the altar when you were ready and with me every step of the way. But nothing went as planned. You showed me your vulnerable side almost from the start, and it humanized you in a way I hadn’t counted on. As I got to know you…I realized I not only need you in my life, I need to be more like you. Warm. Thoughtful. Forgiving.
“By the time we got married, I suspected I was saying ‘I do’ not because it was part of my plan, but because I couldn’t imagine living another day without you. I tried to force a family on you for the same reason. I’m truly sorry. I can’t turn back time and change what happened, but I can promise you a few things. The evidence I captured of you breaking into my old place? It’s yours. Keep it. Destroy it. Whatever you want. I won’t have copies or backups, so I’ll have nothing to hold over your head.”
“Thank you.”
“Second, I ask that you give me a chance to earn your love. My heart is yours. I mean that. I don’t need revenge. I need you.” I swallow hard. “I love you.”
Isabella gives me a shaky nod, then sets her coffee aside. “Anything else?”
Am I changing her mind at all? Her face gives zero clues. I want to gift her with a thousand ardent, heartfelt words and arrange them into the most beautiful sonnet or love song—whichever would melt the walls around her heart—and give them to her, wrapped in a pretty pink bow. But I’m not good at any of that. I was built for combat. I understand war. I’m no poet, and I can’t sing for shit. I’d probably just scare her away. Instead, I hope that my honesty and the fact I’m a fucking mess without her will sway her to give me another chance.
If she does, I won’t waste a second, and I’ll take nothing for granted.
If she doesn’t…I have no one to blame but myself.
“Unless you have questions, no. What happens next is purely up to you.”
She nods. “I appreciate that. I know giving up control is hard for you.”
“As fuck.”
She smiles faintly before her expression slowly sobers. “I spent all night thinking. Of where I’ve come from, where I’m going, and where I want to be. I thought hard about my conversation with my dad. I’m at a fork in the road.”