Page 116 of Blackout-

“There’s my gorgeous girl,” he rasps, turning his head to get a better look at me. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs. “I hate when you fucking cry.”

“Then please stop making me,” I say, choking on a sob.

Quietly, he continues to stare at me, and I watch as his bottom lip trembles. Tears spill from his good eye as he pulls at his chained wrist. The cuffs slap against the bedrail and he releases a guttural cry.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he rasps. His tone remorseful.

I remain silent as I stare at him in disbelief, wondering how we got to this tragic point in our marriage. The longer we continue to stare at one another, I start to think I’m punishing him with my silence, and I try to find it in me to respond to his apology.

“How are you feeling? How’s my baby? Did you get the teddy bear?”

At the mention of the teddy bear, my gaze snaps to his and his apology is forgotten. Suddenly, I’m consumed by anger as I recall waking up to find that stuffed toy in my lap.

“I stood in that gift shop mulling it over, trying to decide between pink and blue,” he reveals, pausing for a beat as he tries to crack a smile. His face is too swollen and all he really manages is a lip curl. “It’s a girl, Lace,” he continues. “I feel it and I dream of her. Every fucking night, I dream of our daughter.”

“Stop!”

I can’t listen to him go on about our baby when he turned his back on us. I’m sure he’s got an excuse, a grand one at that, but I’m done listening to him. He broke something between us the day he threw that teddy bear in my lap and he built a concrete wall between us inside that courtroom. Sadly, I would’ve forgiven him for those things. I would’ve done everything in my power to piece together what he broke, and I would’ve torn the wall down until it was nothing but a pile of dust.

“You promised me,” I cry, stepping closer to the bed so he can see the pain in my eyes. The pain he put there. Choking on my tears, I shake my head as my knuckles whiten around the bedrail. “I heard the baby’s heartbeat, Blackie,” I rasp. “I reached for you and you weren’t there.”

“Baby…”

“You weren’t there!”

“I’m—”

“Sorry, yeah, I know,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s not good enough anymore.”

“I know I fucked up,” he chokes, his voice raw with emotion. “I fucking let you down, but if you let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I interject, lifting my hands to wipe the tears rolling down my cheeks. “How many times are we going to do this, Blackie?”

“As many times as it takes to get it right,” he answers.

“No! You don’t get it, do you? It’s not about us anymore. We can’t keep doing this. For fuck’s sake, you’re chained to a hospital bed. I can’t even touch you,” I shriek, eyeing the guard who is doing his best to appear invisible. “You know, I wanted it to be you…I wanted us to go the distance, Blackie. I wanted you to be the one who remained at my side when I lost myself. I wanted you to be the man who reminded me of the love we made and the family we created. At the end of a long life, I wanted your face to be the last one I saw before I died. I wanted your hand to be the one I held when I left this world. It was supposed to be you. You promised you’d be that man. You swore on everything we were and everything we’d ever be.”

“I’m yours,” he growls. “But you got it wrong, baby. So, fucking wrong. You’re not going to lose yourself and I’ll never have to remind you of the love we made, because if you ever forget, I’ll just make you fall in love with me all over again. Every day, for the rest ofmylife. Baby, don’t give up on me. I’m begging you. One more chance. I’ll make it right. Schwartz is working on getting me out of here.”

Tears fall endlessly.

Mine.

His.

They’re the tears of love.

Of two broken hearts.

As much as I want to believe everything he’s saying, I know better. He doesn’t mean to lie to me. He doesn’t mean to break my heart. He doesn’t mean any of it, but he also can’t help it.

He can’t help himself.

“You know,” I start, pausing to clear my throat and wipe my eyes. “I think you like breaking,” I whisper. My words aren’t meant to be insulting, they’re meant to inspire. To help him see the error of his ways. I speak to him not as his wife, but as a trained professional—something, I swore I’d never do. I guess we’re both going against our word now.

“I think you like falling apart because for a brief pause, you get to feel whole after someone picks up the pieces. After the euphoria of being complete wears, you come crashing down. You realize you did nothing to help yourself, and you do whatever you can to break again, hoping this time you’ll be the one to pick up the pieces for yourself. I wanted to be the one who changed you. I wanted to breathe life into your fragile soul.”

“You are…you’re everything, Lacey,” he shouts, his voice full of conviction.

---