Page 105 of Pain in the Axe
“My biggest regret is not following you and fighting to make things right,” I said, cupping her cheek.
“It’s not your fault,” she protested. “Our fathers—”
“No.” I clenched my jaw but willed my hold on her to stay gentle. “What they did was terrible, but they only exploited the cracks in our foundation. Cracks I was responsible for.”
“We both were.”
“No. I was so desperate to prove myself to him that I let him pull me away from you. I should have been by your side, helping you through your grief. Instead, I was in the damn woods.” For years, I’d gone over and over every day of our short marriage. I’d left her alone in that shitty garage apartment while I was out in the woods chasing my father’s approval. I’d put my job ahead of her, and I’d been too young and too stupid to even realize it.
“I didn’t ask for help,” she said. “It’s so hard for me to trust. I can’t help it. My first instinct has always been to do it all myself.”
This was my moment, and I had to seize it.
“You don’t have to do it all yourself, Dragonfly.” Hand still cupped to her cheek, I brushed my thumb back and forth. “I’m here now. I want to do this with you.” Swallowing thickly, I mustered all my resolve and laid it out, begging for everything I wanted. “I know I haven’t earned it yet, but please give me a chance to do this right. To love you the way you deserve to be loved. To be a family.”
“But my job—”
“I’ll go where you go. I missed my chance to chase you twenty years ago. I won’t make that mistake again. You and the baby are it for me. I’ll go anywhere. I’ll do anything.”
In that moment, staring up at me with tears welling in her eyes, she looked so delicate and vulnerable. Like the girl I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. There was no defiance, no anger. Just fear.
It broke my heart. That she ever doubted what she meant to me.
“I love you, Chloe,” I said softly as a tear ran down her cheek. “I’ve always loved you.”
Stepping back, she covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “After years of thinking you didn’t love me the way I loved you, this is all too much.”
My heart panged at the agony in her voice. Dammit. I needed to make her understand. That I loved her then, but I loved her more now. “Come with me.” Clutching her hand, I led her out of the house and over to the structure that served as both garage and workshop. I keyed in the code, and the door opened slowly. My truck was parked in the first bay. A tractor, a plow blade, and an ATV occupied the other. On the far side was my workshop, with tools, tables, and pegboard walls, all labeled and organized.
As I guided her back to where I had several projects going, I pulled on the lights. When the space was illuminated, I held out an arm, gesturing to the industrial steel racks lining the back wall.
“Look.”
With a small gasp, she stopped, her eyes widening. But she only stayed that way for a moment before she shuffled closer and studied each piece on the top shelf.
I’d stumbled into chainsaw art years ago, when I’d discovered it was a good coping mechanism. The ability to create detailed, delicate things with such a large, violent instrument had intrigued me and still did.
It also required total concentration, meaning it was one of few activities that could drown out the noise in my mind. The work gave me an outlet when I was a confused, angry kid trying to find his way.
The eight-foot-long shelf was covered in art I had made over the years. Each one was a dragonfly. Some were large, others as small as I could create. Some abstract, others finely detailed. Some in flight, some at rest, and some in groups.
She turned and looked at me, her eyes misty. “You made all of these?”
I nodded. “No matter how hard I tried, I could never get you out of my head.”
“They are so beautiful,” she said softly, running her fingers along the edge of the shelf.
“So are you. With each one, I worked to capture your beauty, your strength, and the way you made me feel.”
“Gus,” she gasped, walking straight into my arms.
“Just give me a chance,” I said, angling low to gently kiss her. “And I promise I’ll love you forever.”
Chapter 31
Chloe
Iwasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. He’d spent years in this workshop thinking about me. I’d convinced myself I’d meant nothing to him, when in reality, he’d been just as hurt and miserable as I’d been.
