Page 69 of Winning Back His Wife
Sarah blinked. Still there. She wasn’t hallucinating. She pinched herself. Not dreaming, either.
She pursed her lips. “Why are you here?”
He straightened. “You forgot something.”
No way. Sarah had been extra careful when she packed, to make sure she had everything that belonged to her. “What did I forget?”
Cullen raised his chin slightly, his jaw tight and his eyes dark. “Me.”
Her mouth gaped. The air whooshed from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe.
He walked toward her, slowly, as if each step were planned, calculated, with intent and purpose. “You’re busy with important work, so I brought me to you.”
She tried to speak, but couldn’t.
He reached forward and ran his hand along her cheek.
Sarah fought the urge to sink into his touch. She had to be strong. For both their sakes.
His gaze ran the length of her. “You’ve been working too hard. You have a headache.”
How did he know that? Her brain whirled with questions and fatigue and a heavy dose of confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re here.”
Cullen pulled something from behind his back. It must have been tucked in the waistband of his jeans. A white envelope. The divorce papers. “You left these for me.”
Her heart thudded with dread. “We’ll be divorced soon.”
He held the envelope out in front of him and tore the top portion.
She reached forward to stop him. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done a year ago and put an end to any talk of a divorce.” He ripped the envelope in half. “Worst money I ever spent.”
She stared, stunned. “It doesn’t matter. The petition has been filed.”
“I told my attorney to halt the proceeding.”
Her mouth gaped. She closed it. “We’ll have to start over.”
“That’s all I want. For us to start over.”
Her heart pounded against her chest. Disbelief and hope warred inside her.
“I don’t want a divorce, Sarah. I’ve never wanted one, but I was too hurt to realize it. I love you. Only you.”
“Love is...”
“The only thing that matters.” He took her left hand. “I haven’t been the best husband. After what happened to Blaine I was afraid to lose control and wind up like him. You overwhelmed me from the moment we met. It was great at first. I felt whole again, but I got scared. Clung to control where I could. Ran away when I couldn’t. Didn’t open myself up. Compartmentalized everything. My work. My emotions. Our marriage. You. That wasn’t right. Or fair. No wonder you wanted to leave. You deserved better from me. I’m finally ready to give it to you. If you want it. Want me.”
Cullen’s words sent a gush of warmth flowing through Sarah’s veins. She fought the urge to soak up the love he was offering. “Oh, I appreciate this. You’ll never know how much. But I’ve seen what’s happened with my parents and stepparents. Even if we wanted to make it work, marriage doesn’t last.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know you’ve seen marriages fail. You’ve lived through it way too many times. But the divorce rate isn’t one hundred percent. Some marriages do last. Ours can if we’re willing to work on it. Fight for it. I know you’re a fighter. So am I.”
She wanted to believe, but something—fear, maybe—held her back. “Even if we fought for it, I don’t know how to be a good wife like Hannah, Carly and Zoe. You need someone who’s worthy of you. Perfect for you. That isn’t me.”
“You might not think you’re the perfect wife, but you’re the perfect wife for me.” Cullen pressed her hand against his mouth and kissed it. “I was afraid of losing myself in you. The way Blaine lost himself in drugs. What I failed to see is how good you are for me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You fill me up and set me free. You make me stronger. Nothing wrong with that at all.”
Her heart sighed. Still more protests rose to her lips. “But—”
“I don’t care that you’d rather be covered in mud or ash than wear something frilly. Or that you prefer cooking on a glacier than in a gourmet kitchen. I love that you’re willing to run toward an erupting volcano if it means getting the data you need while everyone else is running away. That’s the woman I love, the woman I married, the woman I want to grow old with.”
Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Feelings of inadequacy shot arrows through her. She sniffled. “But you deserve better.”
“You do, too. I’m far from the perfect man or husband. I tend to see things my way. Sometimes I’m too serious.”
