Page 38 of One More Chance
This, however, seemed to infuriate her even more. Her nostrils flared, she squeezed her crossed arms and her nails dug into her skin.
"Sloane, I wanted to show you that I’m trying to fix things. I'm trying to-"
“Fix things? You think you canfixthat you shoved your dick in Angie?”
I flinched and turned, so sick with shame that I couldn't look at her. Nausea roiled my stomach and panic pounded my head as I struggled to breathe. "Sloane," I somehow managed to choke out her name between rasping breaths. "I know… this can't make up for… nothing can make up for that."
In glacial tones she whispered, "Then don’t expect me to throw a goddamn parade because you cleaned the house and made dinner. I’ve done that every single day for years. Without backup. Without applause. Without gratitude."
Tears blotted my vision. I blinked them back, humiliated and wrecked. The truth of her words stripped me raw. I thought of all the small signs of normalcy I'd tried to create: crisp clean sheets on the beds, laundry folded, dishes done, bookbags packed and lined up for the kids. All of it felt meaningless now.
But the nearly endless tasks, both large and small, were not meaningless. They never had been. However, I had allowed myself to believe they were somehow more meaningful becauseIdid them.
Because I'm an idiot.
I heard Sloane sigh. "Levi, I do appreciate the effort. But I am trying to help you see why this is such an adjustment for me. I have always done these things because it's what needs to be done. Not because I want to be rewarded or recognized."
"You’re right,” I said, my voice rough. “I am sorry, Sloane. I wasn’t trying to earn a gold star. I… I wanted to show you that I care. That I’ve always cared, even when I was too selfish or blind to act like it.”
She arched a brow. "Well… I will admit, it was a pleasant surprise. But this whole thing is going to take time for me to acclimate."
"What whole thing?"
She waved her hand up and down, a gesture to encompass all of me. "This. This new Levi you keep bringing to me."
I cleared my throat and struggled to regain my composure. “My priorities are different now. It’s not about me anymore. It’s only you and the kids. That’s it. That’s all that matters to me. I can't say it enough and I won't stop saying it until you believe me.”
She didn’t reply to that. She stood there and dissected me with her startling eyes and unyielding gaze. It was the same quiet, assessing look she skewered me with anytime I'd done something heinously stupid. I mentally berated myself as I replayed everything I'd said.
What dumb thing came out of my mouth to cause her to look at me like this?
She stepped closer, and her scent overpowered me. Right there, cramped in the corner of the walk-in pantry, my knees trembled as she approached.
Sloane had always possessed this power over me, a quiet ferocity that could either pull me in with desire or push me away from fear. Sometimes both. But in that moment, as she drew nearer with the ominous intensity of a storm cloud, as the chaos of my mistakes rumbled between us, I had no clue which way the wind would blow.
Is this how I die?
I didn’t breathe as my wife, like the predator I knew her to be, stalked her prey. She was now only inches away, radiating heat and fury. I was so fucking aroused and scared at the same time.
I’m a good boy. Good boys get rewarded.
For one irrational moment, when my panicked mind saw her hands moving, I thought she would castrate me. But instead, she rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, warm and fleeting.
Then she brushed past me like it hadn’t happened, like we hadn’t stood on the edge of something fragile and real, as the heat of her lips lingered on my skin. I stayed frozen for a moment, afraid that if I moved I’d lose the last trace of her touch.
She kissed me. Sloane initiated contact and kissed me. Why?
Eventually, I followed her out of the pantry to help with the rest of the unloading. As I hurried to catch up with her in the drivewayI asked, half-laughing, half-terrified, “How close was I to dying just now?”
She replied in a deadpan voice, “Did you know the femoral vein runs along the inner thigh, from the groin to the back of the knee?”
“Oh… that’s, uh, good to know. So… really close to dead, then?”
Popping the trunk of her SUV, she turned to look at me; her eyes glinted with something that could have been amusement or mischief. She held her thumb and forefinger up, barely a millimeter apart. “Yep. This close. Thank God you’re cute and the father to my children.”
I laughed. It was impossible not to. The way she could deliver those casual, lethal remarks with zero emotion still caught me off guard every time, even after all our years together. I watched her, trying not to smile too much.
She's lowering her guard with me. Thankfully.
