The Darkest Hour (KGI #1)(87)

She stood shakily, her hand going down to the edge of the couch to steady herself on the way up. Her face was pale, her eyes huge. She looked . . . devastated.

She licked her lips and briefly looked away as if gathering her courage. Ironic, since she was the only one between them who had the strength and courage of a warrior.

When she looked back at him, the emotion in her gaze hit him square in the gut. Tears swam over her dark brown eyes and slid silently down her cheeks.

“Do you want out, Ethan? Is that guilt that’s eating you why you’re with me now? Because you feel responsible for what happened and that the last words you said to me were about wanting a divorce? Did you want me to find those papers?”

No longer able to stand apart from her, he crossed the room and gathered her in his arms.

“No, baby. God, no. Never. I didn’t want out then. I don’t want out now. I love you. I made mistakes. Mistakes that cost me everything. The moment you walked out that door, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. I spent the entire week you were gone planning the right things to say to you when you got back home. I was prepared to beg. To do whatever I had to do to make you stay and to show you I loved you.

“And then I got the news that you’d died.”

His voice cracked, and he couldn’t go on anymore. Even saying the words brought back the reality of that day. Of feeling like the entire world had dropped from beneath him. He never wanted to go back there.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed then or now. At first I kept the papers because I wanted to tear them up when you got back. But then when I was told you died, I kept them as a reminder of all I’d lost and that the fault was mine and mine alone. When I discovered you were alive, they were the very last thing on my mind. I totally forgot I’d left them there.”

He slowly drew away, needing to see her. He touched her face, smoothing the red tear blotches against her pale skin.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Hot tears spilled over his fingertips, and he whisked them away, his soul hurting with each one that slithered down her cheek.

“I need to know that you’re with me now because you love me and not because you feel obligated to right some past wrong,” she choked out. “I can’t live thinking you feel trapped because your dead wife came back from the grave. I can’t live thinking I’ve been given everything I’ve prayed for the last year when it’s not real. It’s hell and not heaven.”

He kissed her forehead and then her nose. Then both of her eyelids. He kissed the damp trails away from her cheeks and finally pressed a gentle kiss to her quivering mouth.

“The day I learned you were alive was the single greatest day of my life. For whatever reason, God gave me a second chance. He gave us a second chance. I don’t deserve it, but I want it more than I want to live. I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me this time, Rachel.”

She looked at him with such hope and devastation that it broke his heart.

He grasped both her hands and brought them up to his chest to lie over his heart.

“I don’t expect us to have it all worked out in a day or even a month. You have a lot to remember. I have a lot of trust to rebuild between us. Will you at least come home with me so we can talk about this some more? Please, Rachel. Come home with me. Give me this much. I know I don’t deserve it, but at this point I’m begging.”

She hesitated, staring back at him with tortured eyes. He’d sworn he never wanted to see such anguish in her face again, like the day she walked away when he’d told he wanted a divorce. And yet now, it was ten times worse. She was infinitely fragile and so utterly destroyed that he feared she may never trust him again. What if he lost her? What if after the miracle of getting her back, he lost her after all?

“I’m scared,” she said in a hoarse, heart-wrenching voice. “I’m sick at heart.”

She pulled her hands away from his chest and turned away from him. The seeming rejection knotted his stomach. This was how she felt. The day he told her it was over. This was how she had to have felt. Like the world was coming down around her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do.

It hurt him that he’d hurt her—had hurt her for so long. If he could protect her from those memories, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but God, he couldn’t. His time was up.

He reached out to touch her hair and then let his hand drift down to her shoulder. She flinched but he didn’t draw away. He couldn’t. He didn’t want any distance between them. He couldn’t accept that he could possibly lose her after getting back everything he’d ever wanted.

“Rachel,” he whispered. “Look at me please.”

For a long moment, she hesitated, and then she finally turned, her eyes lowered at first. He rubbed his thumb over her jaw and to her chin until she raised her gaze to meet his.

“I love you. I want you. I want us.”

She swallowed and raised a shaking hand to wipe at the corner of her eye. “I want that too, Ethan. But only if it’s real.”

“Then come home with me.”

She stared back at him, her heart so vibrant in her eyes. Finally she nodded her agreement, and his chest caved in with relief. At least she wasn’t refusing to speak to him.