Page 74 of The Space He Left
I let out a soft groan at the memory, the ghost of a frustration so intense it had felt like a physical ache for six long months. "That wasn't a test, Jack." I looked at him, needing him to understand. "God, it was the hardest thing I've ever done. There were so many nights I lay awake in that bed, knowing you were just down the hall, remembering what it felt like to fall asleep in your arms."
I thought of all the times I had walked past the bathroom and seen him emerge, still damp from a shower, a towel slung low on his hips. I’d see the lean muscles of his back, the hard lines ofhis abs from years of construction work, and I’d had to turn and walk away before the desire became too much to handle.
"I needed to know I could trust you with my heart," I said, my voice softer now, "before I could trust you with my body again. Because for me, they've never been separate things."
"Even though we were married?"
"The wedding ring didn't protect me the first time you chose someone else," I said, the old pain a distant echo now. "I needed to know that you understood what a gift that intimacy was. I needed to know it would be safe with you again. That I would be safe."
"And now you know?"
I shifted to look at him directly, this man who'd broken my heart and then spent the last three years earning it back piece by piece. "Now I know that you understand what you almost lost. I know that you've changed not just your behavior, but your priorities. I know that you choose our family every day."
"I do. I choose you and Emma. Every single day. Every single time. I love you, Harps."
I felt the familiar warmth spread through my chest at his words, the same feeling I got when I watched him help Emma tie her shoes or saw him turn down after-hours calls because it was bedtime story time. Jack had restructured his life around us, cutting back his hours at Henderson Construction so I could take on more design projects, and spending two full days a week looking after Emma so I could work. He kept weekends completely free for family time, no construction emergencies allowed.
The memory of those early negotiations made me smile. Jack pacing our kitchen, spreadsheets covering the table, trying to figure out how to make it all work. He was determined to support my return to work.
I shifted against him, remembering how terrified I'd been the first time he'd had Emma for a full day while I worked. Checking my phone every thirty minutes, convinced something would go wrong. But when I'd come home, I'd found them both covered in finger paint, Emma giggling as Jack helped her make handprints on construction paper. The kitchen had been a disaster, but Emma had been radiant with joy.
"It was a sacrifice, too, though. You loved being hands-on with every project. But you stepped back so I could have my career dreams too."
His hand found mine, fingers intertwining automatically. I could still remember the old Jack – the one who would have said he supported my dreams, but somehow always needed to handle "just this one emergency" during my work time. This Jack had literally put his phone down on Emma days, telling his crew not to call unless someone was bleeding or a building was on fire.
"And look what happened – your design work took off, Emma got quality time with both parents, and Henderson Construction ran just fine without me managing every detail. Turns out delegation was a skill I needed to learn."
I thought about my design studio now, the contracts rolling in, the satisfaction of creating beautiful spaces for families like ours. None of it would have been possible if Jack hadn't proven, week after week, that his promises weren't just pretty words spoken during couples counseling.
"I'm proud of the man you've become," I told him. "Not just as Emma's father, but as my husband. You did the work to become someone I could trust again."
"You did work too. Learning to trust again, learning to let me back in... that couldn't have been easy."
He was right. Those years had required growth from both of us – Jack becoming someone worthy of trust, me learning to believe in second chances without sacrificing my own strength.He had to forgive himself for his actions. I had to forgive myself for mine. Counselling had helped us do that - although I'm not convinced Jack has forgiven himself, even if I've moved past it.
"Do you know what convinced me to let you move back in?" I asked.
"Tell me."
"It was watching you with Emma every day. The way you were completely present for her, completely focused on making her days special. But more than that, it was watching you leave every night. You didn't push, didn't make it about what you wanted. You just said goodnight and went back to Sam's apartment because that's what I'd asked you to do."
"I wanted to stay with you both so badly."
"I know. But you didn't ask. You respected my boundaries even when it cost you something you wanted. That's when I knew you'd really changed."
"And the bedroom thing?"
I felt heat rise in my cheeks, remembering those months of careful distance. "That took longer because... because I needed to be sure that you wanted me, not just the idea of being forgiven. I needed to know that you loved who I'd become during our separation, not just who I'd been before Emma was born."
"Harps, I fell in love with you all over again during that time. The strength you'd developed, the way you'd learned to advocate for yourself, the mother you'd become to Emma... you were even more beautiful than when I married you."
"I felt beautiful. I realised I was enough just as I was."
"You were always enough. I was just too stupid and scared to see it."
We sat in comfortable silence, surrounded by the mess of Emma's party and the quiet satisfaction of another family milestone successfully celebrated. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities to choose each other, and newmoments to build the kind of memories that would sustain Emma through her own future difficulties.
"Jack?"
