to give me the
chance
. I never want to be without you. Iâm sorry if I havenât made you feel that way lately.â
âIâm too tired and strung out to have this discussion tonight,â she said, her shoulders sagging. âI just want to go to bed. We canât have this conversation when Iâm not on equal footing, and anything I say right now is likely to be all twisted up because Iâm so upset, and that does neither of us any good.â
She saw the frustration, the beginnings of a raw edge of temper, but he held it back, not reacting to her firm dictate. Or perhaps he saw how truly close to the edge she was and didnât want to push her right over.
He dropped his hands from hers and turned halfway from her, his gaze directed forward so his profile was presented.
âIf thatâs what you want,â he said in a low voice. âBut weâre going to talk tomorrow, Chessy. No more putting this off. Itâs been put off long enough and I realize thatâs my fault.â
She got up from the couch before he could do or say anything to change her mind and headed for their bedroom to collect her things.
Tate watched his wife exit the living room in the direction of their bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he could hold her tonight if nothing else. But damn it, he wasnât ready to call it quits for the night. There was so much left unsaid, unresolved. He wasnât the type to delay anything. And spending an entire night with his future hanging precariously on the edge of destruction? Not ideal.
But he couldnât afford to push Chessy. She was clearly at her wits end. His fuck-up on their anniversary had pushed her too far. Finally too far. He was damn lucky she hadnât left his dumb ass already.
He hauled himself off the couch, mentally preparing for the night ahead. He hoped like hell that Chessy didnât close herself off to him, lie rigidly in bed or, even worse, cry herself to sleep. His heart would be cut to ribbons.
When he got to their bedroom door, he nearly bumped into her as she came out holding a pair of pajamas and her toiletries. He frowned, dread creeping up his spine.
âWhere are you going?â he demanded.
She lifted her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his, a defiant look in her eyes. At least she wasnât crying. A small victory at best.
âIâm sleeping in the guest room tonight,â she said quietly. âI need some time alone. To get my thoughts together before we get into this tomorrow.â
It was like a fist to his gut. As she shoved past him and walked toward the guest room at the far end of the hallway, his breath left him and he couldnât squeeze air back into his lungs to save his life.
He stood there staring helplessly at her, knowing he should go after her and at the same time recognizing sheâd given him an ultimatum of sorts. Hands off. Give her space.
Numbly, he walked into their bedroom, knowing heâd never sleep tonight. How could he when Chessy was sleeping down the hall from him and their marriage was in serious jeopardy?
Theyâd never slept apart. Not when they were in the same house. Heâd gone on very few out-of-town business trips, most of them in the last couple of years, and that was the only time theyâd damn well slept apart. Even then heâd always called her and they had talked on the phone way beyond bedtime. Because heâd missed her, missed having her in his bed, and heâd given up precious hours of sleep when he needed to be alert and aware the following morning for important meetings. Didnât that count for something?
A small part of him registered that he should be angry. That heâd made countless sacrifices to ensure that the woman he loved more than life had the world at her feet. And yet he couldnât bring himself to be anything but remorseful when he took in the extent of Chessyâs unhappiness.
Chessy who usually lit
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]