I cut my eyes in her direction. She was looking straight ahead, a slight smile on her face, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel to the rhythm of some song only she could hear. Did she love him? Did she love him more than me? I wanted to ask her but wouldn’t. The words stuck in my throat.
Halfway to Miami, I saw the sign for one of her favorite hotels. One of those boutique-type places where she liked to go on her self-care trips. A plan started forming in my head. It was sneaky and desperate, but I didn’t care. My heart raced as I leaned back in my seat, letting out a low groan.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it all the way to Miami without resting,” I said, wincing for effect, my hand rubbing the small of my back. “My back is killing me. I thought I could make it the entire way, but…” I trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air like a fishing line waiting for a bite.
Jordin’s eyes flicked to me, concern etched across her face, her brows knitting together. “Do you need to stop?” she asked, her voice soft but urgent.
I nodded, trying to look as pitiful as possible, my shoulders slumping forward. “Yeah, that might help. Maybe for the rest of the night, and then we can start fresh tomorrow?”
She didn’t hesitate, pulling off at the next exit. As we pulled into the hotel’s driveway, Jordin’s eyes widened, and she turned to me, a smile coming to her face. “You remember the last time we were here?” she asked, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
I chuckled, snapping my fingers as if it had just come to me. “Oh yeah, that’s right! How could I forget?”
Once we were in the room, I ordered couple’s massages and a bottle of wine while Jordin was in the bathroom. Jordin raised an eyebrow at me but didn’t argue when she came out and found the bottle on ice. We sat on the balcony, the warm breezecarrying the scent of salt and flowers, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like we were us again.
We talked and laughed over dinner, the champagne loosening both of us up. She reached across the table to touch my hand, and I didn’t pull away. Her fingers were warm, familiar, and it took everything in me not to grab her and never let go.
“Why are you doing this for me?” I asked finally, my voice low. “What’s going to happen to us? What’s with our marriage? Are we getting divorced?”
She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. “After your accident… I realized I didn’t want to lose you. So I’m okay with just seeing where things go.”
It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it was enough.
I leaned back in my chair, pretending to be casual. “I can deal with that. For now. But what about Ciarán?”
Her expression tightened, just for a second. “He’s going to be here. For now.”
I didn’t push. I couldn’t. Not yet. I had to keep reminding myself that I fucked up so I wouldn’t revert back to my old ways and get too heavy-handed.
We sat on the balcony while the massage therapist set up the room.
The room was thick with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus when we returned. Low, soft music was playing from invisible speakers. There were two women masseuses because I didn’t want a man rubbing all over Jordin—I already had to deal with one. As she worked over my back, kneading into the sore muscles that hadn’t been stretched right in months, I barely felt it. My mind was somewhere else.
Jordin was lying next to me, her face turned toward mine, her skin glowing in the dim candlelight. She looked relaxed, her lips slightly parted, her breathing even. But I knew her. Shewasn’t relaxed. Her mind was probably running a mile a minute just like mine.
I turned my head slightly, watching her, my fingers twitching against the sheet.
“You know,” I started, my voice rough, thick with something I couldn’t name, “right before that car hit me, I wasn’t thinking about the shit I thought mattered—car, money, success.”
Jordin’s eyes fluttered open, her brows pulling together slightly.
“I was thinking about you,” I admitted, staring at her, willing her to understand. “I was thinking about the first time I ever saw you. How I didn’t understand why you got under my skin so much.”
She swallowed.
“You weren’t like the other girls in school. You didn’t give a fuck about impressing people. You didn’t throw yourself at me. You walked like you knew exactly who you were, like you didn’t need anybody to tell you what you were worth.” I let out a low breath. “That shit fucked me up. I wasn’t used to that. I was used to girls who made it easy. Girls who looked at me like I was something special.”
I exhaled, my jaw tightening. “But you? You looked at me like I was just like everybody else. Like I wasn’t shit.” A dry laugh left my lips.
Jordin’s lips parted slightly, her eyes softening, but she didn’t say anything.
“I bullied you for it… You were too much for me back then—too sure of yourself, too fucking beautiful, too much of everything I didn’t know how to handle.”
I sighed. “I’ve done a lot of fucked-up things in my life, Jordin. But the way I fucked us up? That’s the one regret that haunts me the most. And it almost followed me into death. Andright before that car hit me,” I whispered, my chest tightening, “I thought about what I’d lost, about what our kids would look like. If they’d have my eyes and your smile. If they’d have your fire or my stubborn ass. I thought about what it would be like to have a second chance to fix this.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.
I reached for her, my fingers grazing her cheek, tilting her chin slightly. My heart hammered in my chest.
