“Yes! How many times do I need to say that before you hear me and believe me?” Misery pulled at his mouth. “But, Libby, if this living hell we’re enduring is as good as things are ever going to get between us, then no. I don’t want to live this way.”
The bald words lanced her and the empty spaces inside her, created by months of desperate loneliness, throbbed with a dull ache. Still mired in the fallout of the apocalypse, there were only two things she was certain about—Jess was dead to her and she missed the man she’d always believed her husband to be. Her love for Nick still had more moments of intense fury than it had of forgiveness. It was these volcanic emotions that kept her sleeping in the guest room.
“Is this about us not having sex?”
“No,” Nick said, far too defensively, and she snorted.
“Maybe. A bit, but as you still flinch when I kiss you, we’re not ready for sex. This is more about you being lily white and above reproach while I’m stuck in the muck being blamed for everything that’s wrong between us. You’re too angry to give an inch and I’m sick of being the only bad guy—bad person in this relationship when it’s not strictly true.” He rubbed his face. “How long are you going to be angry for, Libs?”
Tears stung her eyes—she hated the anger almost as much as she needed it. “I don’t know.”
“I love you, tesoro mio, but our marriage is like sailing through a never-ending storm. I’m stuck in the troughs with the constant threat of being rolled by massive waves. I don’t know how much longer I can stick it out.”
Something her mother had said tonight forced its way into her head. Does Nick have a point? Had she been nursing her anger and pain for so long it was now her default position no matter what? Hurt him so he didn’t hurt her again?
“Libs,” he pleaded. “We need better help than those bloody books.”
“But we’ve tried three counselors. All of them have been clueless. The last one straight out goggled at us when we told him.”
“Yeah.” Nick pulled out his phone and handed it to her open on a web page. “I found this. It’s a workshop in Melbourne. I dunno if the reviews are fake or not, but it’s a combination of individual, couple and group therapy. It comes with ongoing support.”
She read the blurb, cringing at the idea of sharing their messy story with strangers. “You’re not serious.”
“Why not?”
“Because—because even at the best of times you hate discussing your feelings, let alone admitting what you’ve done in front of people we don’t know.”
He laughed, the sound harsh and unsettling. “Half the town knows what I’ve done to the people I love and respect. Telling a group of strangers whose marriages are floundering and who might just understand what we’re going through will be a walk in the park. Telling anyone is easy compared with telling you.”
A part of her hated him for having told her the truth that day and fracturing her belief that their life together was rock solid. For plunging them into this black vortex of anger, grief and shame. But for the first time since that day, she heard the torment in his voice. Something in her softened.
“I never thought I’d say this, but hearing it from you was better than hearing it from anyone else.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude played in the hollows of his cheeks. “Libs, when we lost Dom, we both fell apart. I don’t think either of us had anything left over to help the other. I want us to learn how to do that so we’re never lost in this hell hole again.”
Panic joined the flood of emotions rolling around inside her. If they went to this workshop, her thoughts and actions would be exposed, examined and judged. “I bought a new book yest—”
“No more books! Right now, we’re treading water. Something has to change or we may as well call it a day.”
Her mouth dried. “You really want to spend a weekend with strangers?”
“No. But I’m desperate and I think we should try. It says we’ll be taught ways to bring back the trust. That sounds pretty bloody good to me.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
He sighed. “Can we focus on now instead of trying to predict the future?”
She couldn’t argue with that—it was the same approach she’d been operating on for weeks. “I guess.”
“Please.” He reached his hands toward her. “We owe it to ourselves and the kids to do something that will help us live happy lives again.”
The kids, not the girls. And just like that, they were back to where they’d started. Leo was never going away. “And your interpretation of us being happy involves you seeing Leo?”
“Us seeing Leo.”
“I can’t do that.”
Anguish creased his face. “You just said you wanted to try.”
“I do. I want us to be happy again, but don’t push me too fast, Nick. I need more time. Can’t we concentrate on fixing us first?”
“I want to say yes, but if we don’t agree to some sort of access arrangement, I don’t trust Jess not to carry out her threat and tell the girls. I don’t want that to happen. I want them to hear it from us.”
The thought of telling the girls made her gag. “I hate that she has the power!”
“So we take it back.”
“How? I don’t particularly want to explain to Lucy that you had sex with that woman.”
He blanched. “She’s six. Can’t we just say I’m Leo’s daddy too? I mean, you and Jess were always saying Leo was their little brother so I doubt we need to be any more explicit unless Lucy straight up asks how
