Page 90 of From Ice to Grace
She wipes at her tears again, leaning back and leaving my arms feeling empty.
“I don’t know. I guess I was raised to find someone who loves me, marry them and then grow old together. But I’ve tried the whole falling in love thing,” she says, her fingers busy with the hem of her sweatshirt again. “It didn’t get me anything. What does that say about me?”
I lean forward, lifting her chin with my finger, urging her to see the sincerity in my eyes.
“It makes you smart, Avah. You learned from your mistakes.” Taking in her expression, I can’t help but see strength and determination. “Unlike my mother who is on husband number four, still doing the same old song and dance, expecting things to be different.”
“But how is this,” she gestures between us, “right? We’re not in a real marriage, Declan.”
“And I’m glad we’re not,” I say truthfully. I don’t think I would’ve been here if we decided on a real marriage from the get-go.
“The way I see it is people get blinded by passion,” I say, unable to keep myself from looking at her mouth. I might not be as unfazed by this woman as I’d like to admit, but I’m making a point. “They forget about all the rest of it. And by the time the passion fades, they’re stuck with a mess they no longer feel motivated to sort through.”
“You’re so romantic,” she says, rolling her eyes, sniffing as a smile tugs at her lips.
I smile at her and tuck her hair behind her ear, unable to keep myself from touching her one more time.
“I aim to please.”
She gets up from the couch, walking to the minifridge behind the bar. The action gives me room to breathe, room to reassess what’s happening, and how deep I’m digging here. She grabs two bottles of water before heading back to the couch.
“It’s just not what I imagined my marriage would look like, you know?” she says, passing a bottle to me. “I had a picture in mind…and this wasn’t it.”
Taking the bottle from her, I watch her expression switch. Like she’s trying to figure something out.
“Pictures can be readjusted. What do you want from marriage, Snow?” I ask, wondering what it is that she would need to find happiness.
“Why do you ask?” She narrows her eyes. “So you can tease me?”
“No,” I say, unable to keep a smile from my face. “Seriously, what do you want from a marriage? I’m not talking about the whole falling in love part…but the actual marriage part.”
She gives it a few seconds before answering. “I want a partner in life. Someone who can walk with me through the difficult times. Marriage is two people sticking together when things get hard, or when it doesn’t make sense.” She looks at me, vulnerability in her eyes. “I want someone who will pray with me, who’ll lead me. Someone who supports me and stays loyal to me. I want someone to care for, someone who I can respect…and who respects me.”
I clear my throat. I was more than ready to utter the words ‘I can be that for you’, until she said she needed someone to pray with her. I’ve never been of the opinion that God wants to hear from me.
Maybe I’m not the man she needs. Perhaps I am the stepping stone until her heart heals and her green card is sorted out. That’s when the right man will enter her life.
“And what do you want from me?” I ask, needing…something to hold onto. “We agreed to do this for at least two years. For the time being I’m your husband. Tell me what you want from me.”
She looks at me, her gaze searching mine for a while. I’m waiting for her to say she doesn’t want anything from me, she’s more than happy to just have each of us play our part. It would be easier if that’s her answer. But the look in her eyes, the warmth stirring in my chest, tells me otherwise.
It tells me that no matter how much I thought I had this under control, Avah just split the game wide open.
“I think maybe it’s best if we take this one day at a time?” she says, and relief fills me. “How about we tell each other every day?”
“What we need?” I ask, hating that I’d have to share a need with her too. I’ve always looked out for myself. Depending too much on others can lead to disappointment.
She nods. “We’ll start now. What do you need, Declan?” she asks.
“You first,” my voice is quiet and careful. Because even though no one is shouting at anyone, the stakes are higher than ever.
“I need you to be honest with me,” she says, vulnerability playing in her eyes. “Not just today, but every day. I get that we made an agreement, but what happens between the two of us…I need you to be honest with me about all of it.”
My mind whirs through everything that happened today—every moment we had together. None of it was work, none of it felt forced. At least not from my end. Holding her close, laughing and smiling with her, even kissing her…it felt normal.
“Then I need you to not freak out on me.” I take her left hand in mine, my gaze dipping to the ring on her finger. I can’t help but twirl it, watching it and waiting for something in me to retreat. It doesn’t come.
She simply nods…waiting.
