Page 8 of Claiming His Wife
She doesn’t speak, but I can hear her breathing. As pathetic as it sounds, I’d be happy to just listen to her inhaling and exhaling all damn night if she’d just not hang up. I run through the hundreds of things I’ve said to her in my mind these last several days but can’t settle on a single one of them.
So, I tell her the only truth that matters…
“I love you, baby.”
My heart constricts when I hear a quiet sniffle from the other end of the line, and I know that she’s been crying. I am a complete bastard because it makes me happy to know this is affecting her too.
“I wish you’d talk to me. I can’t tell you how sorry I am… I’d do anything to make it up to you. We can fix this—I can fix this. As long as we love each other, we can do anything.” I feel like a bit of an ass when she lets out a little sob, but the words were true on our wedding day when we said our vows and the words are still true… we can do anything as long as we love each other. “Unless you’ve don’t love me anymore. I’d deserve it if that’s the case.”
“I…” Mallory starts to say something but goes quiet before she finishes.
“I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make you love me again.”
“That’s the problem, Scott, Idostill love you.”
I let out a sigh of relief, and my heart feels ten times lighter. At least until she speaks again and punches me right in the gut.
“That doesn’t matter though. My loving you was never the problem. You left me long before I left you. I can’t live like that. It hurts too much.” She’s crying in earnest now, and it goes against my every instinct to not wrap her in my arms and make it better.
“It won’t be like that. I promise…”
Mallory snorts a watery sounding laugh. “Your promises don’t mean a whole lot right now.”
She’s completely right, and I hate myself for losing her trust. “I can’t change what I’ve done. All I can do is spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you.”
“Maybe you do love me, but you don’t like me very much. You find my clumsiness annoying. You take me expressing concern as nagging. We aren’t compatible anymore.”
I don’t respond right away, seriously considering what she said. Is her clumsiness annoying? My immediate answer is no. I knew from day one, and it was an honor to be the one to catch her whenever she tripped or bandage her finger when she carelessly cut herself while cooking. Do I think she nags? I think back and shamefully remember being annoyed when she interrupted me at work.
“Mal, I have no excuse for how I’ve treated you. It’s inexcusable. If you come home, it will be different.” I hope like hell that she can hear the sincerity of my words.
“I can’t trust you—”
“Give me a chance. Let me take you out for dinner.”
“Like a date?” she asks, disbelief evident.
“Exactly like a date.”
“I don’t know…”
“Mal, what do we have to lose? Are you really so resolute in your decision that you won’t even give our marriage a chance?” I silently kick myself for being so pushy. Mallory has never responded well to high-handedness.
I imagine the little wrinkle between her brows, her lips pursed together, so she doesn’t just blurt out the first thing she thinks. Mallory is always so conscientious of what she says, especially when her emotions are running high. It’s only one of the reasons I fell in love with her—her sweetness.
“No.”
Her one-word response has me deflating on the spot. “Please.” I don’t even try to hide my desperation.
“I’m not ready to give up. We can have dinner.”
“Tomorrow?” I ask hopeful.
“Okay…”
“Pick you up at seven?”
“Uhm… why don’t you tell me where and I’ll meet you.”