Page 242 of The Reason I Married Him
Because despite feeling heartbroken, I miss him. I hate that he did this to us. I hate that he didn’t talk to me. I hate that he hid the truth, as if he was too ashamed to tell me anything. He knows so much about me. How did it happen that I skipped the part of getting to know him?
Exhausted, I finish brushing my teeth and then move into the bedroom just as Wyatt walks through the door. When our eyesmeet, he gently smiles but doesn’t say anything. I take in his already formed black eye and his fat lip. Ryland got him good.
Needing to ignore him, I move to my side of the bed, plug my phone in, and turn away from where I know he’ll be sleeping. I meant what I said, I will earn this land, even if that means sleeping in the same bed as Wyatt for the next year. If I learned anything through the years of abuse from my father, it’s how to persevere.
I hear him move around, getting ready for bed, but I keep my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. After a few minutes, I hear him check the locks on the door and then the bed dips from the weight of his body. I expect him to move in close, but when he doesn’t, I realize he’s gotten the hint.
It’s better off this way.
I curl into my pillow, let out a sigh, and try to focus on falling asleep, but with every passing second when his arm isn’t wrapped around me, I realize this will be so much harder than I thought.
That’s until he says, “I met her a few years ago in a coffee house.” What is he talking about? “She was trying to sell her family’s coffee, and I was writing. She spilled the coffee everywhere, and I helped her pick it up. I thought she was pretty, so I asked her out on a date. Our relationship was easy. There wasn’t much substance to it now that I think about it, but at the time, I wasn’t really aware what true love was.”
He’s talking about Cadance.
And what does he mean by not being aware at the time of what true love really is? Is he referring to the fact that he knows what it is now?
“I asked her to marry me, she said yes, and then it was wedding planning. I got lost in the mix of it all and had book deadlines. Now that I think about it, I didn’t notice how much she was pulling away. The night before our wedding, she came tome and said she didn’t love me anymore and didn’t want to get married. I was devastated. But I think that devastation stemmed more from embarrassment than anything because as time went on, I started to realize that maybe I hadn’t been in love with her like I thought.”
He shifts on the bed but doesn’t move closer to me.
“What made all of this glaringly obvious was when you came into my life. I quickly found out that the feelings I had for Cadance were nothing compared to the way I feel for you, Aubree. What I had with Cadance was surface level. What I feel for you rides so much deeper than anything I’ve ever felt. And I know you don’t want to hear it, not after holding back things you should know about me, but I will spend every night for the next year showing you just how much you mean to me, how connected I am to you, and how much I love you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as my throat starts to tighten.
No, he did not just say that.
He did not just confess his love.
I . . . I’ve wondered, questioned, hoped that possibly he felt the same way, but now . . . now, it feels weird. Now, it doesn’t feel real. It feels cheapened and less.
So I don’t say anything. I stay silent, and I close my eyes.
One night down, over three hundred to go.
Keepingmy fuzzy socks on since it’s a chilly night, I slip into bed while Wyatt is in the bathroom taking a shower. I spent the entire day out on the farm helping Parson and Echo, getting my hands dirty and trying to erase the feeling of last night.
It helped, up until the point that I had to have dinner with Ryland and the family. Wyatt was there, but he mainlyinteracted with Mac and played with her, which of course Mac was obsessed with. She dressed him up with horse ears, and together, they played with Chewy Charles and Chewy Chonda. He also helped put her to bed while I snuck out and showered. When he returned to the guest house, he smiled and went straight to the bathroom.
It’s cordial but awkward.
I plug my phone in, and I turn away from Wyatt’s side like I did last night just as he exits the bathroom. He locks up the guest house and then slips into bed.
He turns toward me, and I hold my breath, wondering if he will wrap his arm around me tonight, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “There are some things I never told Cadance because I was ashamed to share them with her, just like I was ashamed to share things with you.”
My body stiffens at the sound of his voice.
“My dad is a perfectionist. I love him very much and have a great relationship with him, but I also learned to suppress many of my misgivings to ensure I was doing the right thing in his mind. He wanted me to be a software engineer or a banker, something that offered stability. He didn’t like that I wanted to write, but he supported it. It wasn’t until I proved my worth with my pen that he accepted me for who I was. I’m not saying this to gather pity from you. I’m telling you this because I want you to know where I come from.”
I wet my lips, listening intently.
“I think I put too much pressure on myself to look perfect on the outside when, in reality, it’s the furthest thing from the truth. I’ve wanted to put on a show of no mistakes and shortcomings, so I’d never disappoint. That’s carried on through my adult life. I don’t want to disappoint the people around me, my friends, my publisher, my agent . . . my readers. And by suppressing who Itruly am, I didn’t allow myself to fully open up to you. I’m sorry, Aubree. You deserve so much better.”
I understand what that feeling is like . . . to want to always be perfect and never show an ounce of weakness.
“So here is something not so perfect about me. I spent weeks on Laurel’s couch after the wedding was cancelled, staring at the ceiling and wasting my life away. It wasn’t until she forced me to take a shower did I start moving again. And when I took my clothes off to change, I singed the hairs in my nostrils from the putrid smell radiating from my armpits.”
The smallest of smiles peeks past my lips.
