Page 74 of When You're Gone
“You’re my husband, Rhett. You can stay in here. You can get in with me if you’re not worried about any leftover glass. Please… I need you to stay.”
He glanced from her to the nearly full tub, then back to her again. He nodded once, then lowered himself to the floor in a cross-legged position with his back against the tub.
“That’s not really what I meant,” she challenged as fear tingled up her spine. He hadn’t even kissed her yet. He was acting like…
“Nothing’s changed, beautiful. I’m here right now because you need me. I willalwaysbe here for you when you need me. But what I said last weekend stands. I need to know that I’m still what you want.”
She dropped to her knees in front of him, hissing when the cool tiles connected with the wounds on her shins. Yep, there was definitely still glass in at least a few of those cuts. She reached out to wrap her arms around his neck.
“I want you. I want you so much I ache,” she croaked as tears formed again. She was sick of this. Sick of crying. Sick of trying to convince him of her heart. It had never been like this between them—not even when they weren’t together. They were navigating foreign territory now, and it felt like nothing she did or said was enough.
“I want to believe you,” he lamented as he cupped her face in his hands. He lowered his forehead to hers, holding her close, sharing breath but not making any move to kiss her.
“Rhett,” she pleaded as the tears began to fall. “Rhett… I’m your wife. I’m your wife!” A sob escaped, and her body quaked in anguish.
“You’re my everything,” he whispered before kissing her on the forehead and pulling back. “Get in the tub. We have to get you cleaned up. I’ll stay in here with you.”
It took every ounce of strength in her tired, ragged body to rise up, disrobe, and climb into the bath. The warm water soothed her aching muscles, the moisture a caress against her broken skin. A bath had been the right call—she shuddered at the thought of standing under a showerhead. As always, she was so damn grateful for Rhett’s forethought and care.
She closed her eyes and let her head rest against the curved porcelain. She wanted nothing more than to forget about the last twelve hours—about everything that had happened last night. But her brain wouldn’t shut off. It was like every one of her senses had committed to memorizing how that glass bottle looked—sounded—felt—when it shattered. She felt her chest tighten in panic at the thought. She was desperate for a distraction.
She tentatively reached out toward Rhett. He still had his back pressed up against the tub, his head hung low as he studied his hands in his lap. She let the water drip off her fingertips before she rested a hand on his shoulder. He instantly reacted, covering her hand with his own before gingerly lifting it to his mouth and kissing the inside of her palm.
That one simple gesture gave her strength. That one single kiss gave her hope. He might not be willing or ready to let her fix them yet, but she knew he hadn’t given up entirely.
“Tell me about work. And your granddad. And your mom. Talk to me like nothing is wrong. Help me forget that I fucked everything up.”
He didn’t acknowledge her self-deprecation, but he did start talking. She found comfort in his voice, in the way he kept hold of her hand as he launched into a story about work. She closed her eyes and let his words fill in all the emptiness that had hollowed out her insides over the last several months.
A sense of peace along with a renewed resolve settled inside her as she listened to him talk. There was no doubt in her mind that as long as there was air in her lungs and blood in her veins, she would never want anyone else. Now she just had to figure out how to convince him of that, too.
After her bath, she sat on the edge of the closed toilet seat in fresh underwear as Rhett meticulously inspected and cared for each and every mark on her body. There were three little slivers of glass lodged in her legs, which he removed with a pair of tweezers. There was only one piece they could find in her hand, right on top of her ring finger of her right hand.
He worked in silence, using the flashlight on his phone to inspect each cut before he cleaned it and covered it with a Band-Aid or butterfly closure. There had to be at least a dozen spots between her hands, wrists, and legs. And that number didn’t account for the places where a Band-Aid just wasn’t practical, like between her fingers or directly behind her knee.
She lifted the back of her free hand to cover her mouth when a deep yawn escaped her. Rhett gathered up all the garbage and first aid supplies before rising to his feet.
“You need a nap, sleepyhead.” He wasn’t wrong.
She had slept a few hours last night before everything went down, and she had dozed off a few times in Jake’s lap throughout the early morning, but she had essentially pulled an all-nighter.
“How long are you staying in Hampton?” she asked. She needed to know what kind of timeline they were working with before she committed to sleeping the day away.
Rhett looked her up and down and scowled. She didn’t feel like his frustration was aimed at her, but his hesitation still gave her pause.
“Everhett. When are you going back to Virginia?”
“Tonight.”
She closed her eyes in objection and sighed. She wouldn’t beg him to stay. She couldn’t stand the thought of facing more rejection, even if she found the courage to ask.
“It’s for the best, V. I came because you needed me. But running home and hanging around when I’m supposed to be giving you space isn’t doing anything to bring us back together or make us stronger. If anything, it’s making it…”
She pushed down the panic bubbling up inside her. If this is what he needed, then she would give him this. Acceptance washed over her as she made the only request that mattered. “Will you at least spend the day with me? When you’re home, you’re supposed to be mine,” she reminded him weakly.
A pained expression marred his features as he opened his mouth to reply.
“Please, Rhett,” she interjected. “I… I can’t stop thinking about last night. The things he said… what he did…” It may have been a cheap shot, but it was her truth. She knew she was prolonging the inevitable by asking him to stay, but she couldn’t stand the idea of being left alone with her thoughts right now.
