Page 20 of The Wife
Oh God.
I turned off the water, dried myself off, got dressed, and made my way downstairs wheremy wifewas making us dinner. Some taco pie casserole recipe she found on Facebook she knew I would like.
Because she always knew what I liked. It was that simple with her.
“Hey,” I said.
She turned away from the pan she had on the stove and smiled.
“Hey, this is going to be so freaking good. You are going to cry.”
I thought about her smile. It was pretty. It would always be pretty. But it wasn’t the same. Not since I shut her down. Not since I drew a line between us and told her to stay on her side.
“Smells good,” I told her.
Then I let myself think it. Just for a second I let myself think, what if this really could be our life? What if we stayed married? What if we made it real? I could buy my land and we could add it to Long Valley Ranch.
Have kids, raise them together. Two best friends. Two lovers.
I waited for how it felt in my chest. I expected I would have a sense of claustrophobia. That I was putting myself in a situation I would never be able to get out of. That even if at some point I realized I was never going to love her like a husband should, I would never let myself leave because of how guilty I would feel doing that.
Hurting Ellie hurt me. I’d felt like crap after the kiss, because I knew even though she had eventually understood why I’d shut her down, I’d still hurt her. If we became lovers, if we tried to turn this into something real and it didn’t work, I would go to my grave never letting her know how I felt.
That wasn’t even considering her feelings. I showed up on a damn white horse and saved her from a foster home. Was it all those feelings of gratitude that had morphed into her thinking she wanted me like that? Hell, was it plain teenage horniness? She was a young woman. Living with me. Was it circumstances that made her believe she wanted me?
If I crossed the line, if I took her to bed, would she ever really know the difference between loving me or forever being grateful to me?
I didn’t consider myself much of a romantic, but I had to think it would suck if I knew deep in my gut that Ellie never truly loved me. That she couldn’t know if she loved me because she never had a chance to see what anything else was like.
I could see it there. Right in the middle of the damn kitchen floor. The line I had drawn between us. I could step over it, turn off the gas, take her hand and lead her upstairs. To my room. To my bed.
She wouldn’t say no. In fact she’d be happy. Excited.
I could do that and potentially trap each of us into something that was no less than a life sentence.
“I need to head out to the barn for a second. Is that okay?”
“Sure. This thing needs to bake for another fifteen minutes. You’ve got time. Jake, everything okay? You’ve got an odd look on your face.”
I looked at her. I thought of how hard I’d come just thinking about kissing her.
I thought the line was so damn thin.
“Fine. I just need to leave.”
It probably sounded stupid and made no sense to her, but I knew if I didn’t walk out the back door….
If I didn’t head to the barn and take a few seconds to get myself under control…
I might cave.
I couldn’t do it. I had to be strong enough for both us. I walked outside, made my way to the barn, got to the center of it and I sunk down on my haunches. I counted it out. From a hundred down to one.
That’s how I would get through this, I realized. This wasn’t about me and what might happen to me if I crossed the line. This was about her. I had to protect Ellie. From myself. From herself. I had to be strong enough for her.
That, I thought I could do. That, I knew I could do.
Six
