Page 92 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
Nick winced and his face tightened. “I’m so sorry, Emmeline,” he whispered. “I am so fucking sorry. It eats at me. I’ll never make it right.”
Reaching out a hand, I gently stroked his beard. “Is that what today was about? The surprise. The gifts. You were trying to apologize?”
“No. Maybe a little,” he said. “I wanted it to be special for us this time. Ten years.”
Ten years.
We hadn’t been married for ten years. Not the type of marriage I wanted anyway. Today had been wonderful but it felt like our first anniversary, not our tenth. I wanted a diamond anniversary with the man who had slept by my side every night for a decade. Not months.
This was exactly the reason why I wanted us to get divorced.
But first Nick needed to stop punishing himself.
“You have to forgive yourself. Nothing you can do will change what’s happened.”
“How can I forgive myself when you can’t?” he asked.
I already did.
Somewhere along the road, my brain had caught up with my heart. I had forgiven him. I was over his leaving me in Vegas.
Did I like to think about it? No. Did talking about it sting? A little. But that was all residual feeling. Any resentment or anger I had felt toward Nick was gone.
I had finally moved past it.
“I do forgive you.”
Confusion replaced the pain on his face. “You do?”
I nodded. “I don’t need big surprises and fancy gifts. I know you regret what happened in the past. We both need to let it go and stop bringing it up. Let’s just be us now. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s just be us.”
I didn’t like the space between us, so I shifted to my other side and waited for Nick to pull me into his chest.
“My dad always went all out for Mom on their anniversary,” Nick said into my hair. “Every year she’d flitter around the house, anxious to see what he’d done for her. I loved that he did that. At least once a year she got to see how special she was. I promise to cool it on the gifts, but I can’t promise I won’t do the surprises. It means something to me. The big show. I want that for you.”
I kissed his arm closest to my lips. “I can live with that.”
We slept curled together until the next morning when Nick woke me up and dragged me into the kitchen.
“What do you want for your birthday breakfast?” Nick asked.
Remembering it was my birthday was impressive. In Las Vegas, I had only mentioned it in passing, so either he had a steel-trap memory or he’d recently snuck a peek at my driver’s license.
I suspected the former. My man was smart. Either way, I was going to enjoy being spoiled.
“Were you going to make me a cake today?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then cake, please.”
“It’s going to take a while.”
“That’s okay. I want to read my book,” I said, snagging my first edition from the counter. Two hours later, he interrupted my reading and handed me an enormous piece of cake.
“Funfetti cake with rainbow chip frosting?” I yelled. “How did you know it was my favorite?”
