Page 120 of Push

“Forever.” I smiled. “Since we were teenagers. Almost fifteen years.”

“No shit?” He swigged his beer. “I met my wife around the same age. Over forty years together now.”

My heart floated in my chest.Forty years with Gwen. I wanted that. My soul itched for it.

“No one tells you,” John continued. “It’s hard when you get together young. You don’t just meet one day with life already figured out. You grow up together.Change.” His look at me was pointed. “Soon, you’re new people but still holding on to each other like you’re still the same. Like you were—two teenagers—except you’re not anymore.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I kinda miss those early years.”

“Nothing can take those days away from you. But acting like a selfish dickhead is a guarantee you won’t get any more of those days.” He shot me another pointed look. “How does that make you feel?”

John tore me down with words quicker than the engine we’d worked on. “Like utter crap.”

“Your son—the little fella with all the blond fuzz—whenhefinds out what you did, how do you think you’ll feel?”

I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Shit.” I almost choked on my hasty apology for cursing in his house. John flapped his hand. He wasn’t bothered. But howwouldNoah feel? Probably the same way I felt about my father—that he was a cold, treacherous snake. “I don’t want Noah thinking of me like that. I want to make it right, but how?” I turned to him with a tortured look. “John, I’mtrying.”

“You ain’t.”

I spluttered an excuse, but he raised his palm. “You’re lying to yourself if you think there’s‘only kissing’some other woman when you betray your wife—especiallywhen she’s your teenage sweetheart. Your wife may look a little different, but she’s still that same girl looking for you to show her how to find her way in the world. You’reit. The only partner she’s known. The gravity of that…” He shook his head. “Making out like what you did isno big deal… Mate, that’s almost as bad as turning your back on your vows.”

I couldn’t slump any lower on the stool. “I know it’s a big deal. I understand what I’ve done. Ido. I just…” I dug my fingers into my knees, the denim rough under my fingers. “I hate admitting I becamethatperson, you know? I was a good man. Responsible. I stopped putting Gwen first, but I justified it to myself because I thought I was doing the right things.”

“But?”

“I dunno. When life got a bit harder, I…” I shrugged. “I bailed. Not just physically by working too much, but mentally, too.”

John bobbed his head up and down in a nod. “You weren’t talking?”

My laugh was tired. “We’re shit at being honest with each other.”

“Here’s a secret,” John said. “My wife, she’s always talking. Always. Great at it. You know what she’s not great at? Telling me what sheneeds.”

My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“When Zach was little, Maz always harped on at me about coffee mugs. Bloody hell.Don’t leave ’em on the coffee table. Don’t leave ’em in the sink.One day, I got fed up and asked her what tiger bit her ass. Well, after she gave me one hell of a dressing down for talking to her like that, you know what she said?”

My eyes went wide. Hedidhave secrets. I leaned forward. “No,” I breathed. But I wanted to hear the answer.

“Maree admitted she was exhausted. She was sick of picking up after me and wanted an hour or two to put her feet up and be left alone with a nice cup of tea. She didn’t want to worry she’d forgotten to wash up one of my damn cups. She wantednothingto worry about. And that’s the real secret.Nothing to worry about. Women…” He shook his head. “They worry about shit Idon’t even understand. There’s arightway to fold towels, you know.”

I was on the edge of my stool. “So, what do you do?”

“I ask her, listen, and make sure she feels safe enough to tell me what’s going onbehindthe words.”

“How do you do that? The one to make her feel safe?”

“This ain’t rocket science, mate. It’s the same deal. Ask, listen, and pay attention to what she’snotsaying. And it goes both ways. I tell my wife how I feel, and I never give her any reason to doubt me.” He took another swig of his beer to hide a rueful smile. “I stuff up more than I ever want to, and that’s when I start it all again—talking, listening, telling, and showing.”

I sighed. “That easy, huh?”

“Nope. Taking care of your family is the hardest thing you’ll do. It’sworthit, though. One day, you’ll be as old as me. You might not understand what I’m saying until you are. Your kids grow up. Life gives you a few scares.” His hand clasped my shoulder. “If your Gwen’s the one, she’s worth digging deeper and taking a good hard look at yourself.”

We drank the rest of our drinks in silence. I’d tipped back the last drops in my bottle when Zach poked his head through the garage door.

“The house ladies have finished preparing you a fajita feast.” Zach grinned. “You guys ready?”

John caught my gaze as we headed for the door. “What have you got going on at the moment?” He lifted his chin. “Wanna come back tomorrow and help me finish this engine?”

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