He lets out a breath. “This hardly seems fair,” he grumbles and his emerald green eyes darken just as a scowl finds his face.
I rub his jaw, loving the feeling of the prickle under my fingers as I try to soothe his annoyance. “I know, you don’t know what to say, and it’s hard to defend yourself against something you can’t remember. But granted you never get your memory back, I need to say this and you need to hear it.” He nods, and I bite my lip as I pull at the hem of Bennett’s sweatshirt. “I’ve gone over and over what happened that day in my head for months. There were some nights it played on a loop. It was all I could think of. And I guess in a way, it helped me get through the miscarriages because it allowed me to stop thinking about them. I was in pain every day thinking about losing our babies, but losing you? Nothing could have prepared me for that kind of pain. I wasn’t prepared for it. And maybe it hurt even more because of everything I’d been going through, but it was the worst.”
“You’d been out so late that night,” I continue, “but I figured you’d gone out with Wren. I was checked out at that point so I didn’t even think to check on you. You got home around six, I remember… 6:17. I’ll never forget the time. That’s when the door closed. I sat up in bed and called out for you, just in case…”
“Yeah, it’s me Liv.” His voice sounds pained, almost like he’s choked up.
“Are you okay?”
I’m about to climb out of bed when he appears in our bedroom looking completely defeated. He looks down at his feet as he slides his jacket off and tosses it on the end of the bed. He sits down at the end and stares straight ahead.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. I don’t make a move towards him because I’m not sure if he wants me to touch him. We’ve been worse than ever this week. We’ve barely talked or touched. He’s kissed me lightly in the mornings before he leaves, but other than that, we’ve had no physical contact. I know it’s weighing on him because of how affectionate and passionate and sexual we’ve always been, but I feel completely unsexy and even unworthy of his love or affection.
I feel ugly.
Stupid.
Weak.
I know Bennett still desires me, but I can’t get out of my own head long enough to let him try. I’m slowly destroying my marriage and I can’t stop.
“Baby, I love you so much,” he whispers. “I know things have been difficult, and I…I just needed someone to care about my feelings too. You’re barely talking to me. My father is gone. God knows talking to my mother is like trying to put my head through a wall. I tried everything to be there for you, and nothing was enough, Olivia. Why wasn’t it enough?”
“It’s not you, Clarke. It’s…shit, I don’t know. Grief.” The room has been mostly dark up until this point, as the sun slowly begins to rise on the day so I turn on the Tiffany lamp on my nightstand and crawl over to him. “Are you leaving me?” This is the moment I’ve been fearing. But now that it’s here, I’m not sure I can handle it.
Fight for him, Olivia.
Tell him you want to try.
Tell him you want to go to therapy.
“No, baby. Never.” He looks at me and cups my face. “I would do anything for us to work everything out.”
“We can go to counseling. I’ll go. I just…” I swallow. “I haven’t felt great about myself.” I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. So sorry, Clarke. I love you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and push my lips to his as I climb into his lap. He tastes like alcohol and mint, like he’s brushed his teeth. I pull away, and I see the tears in his eyes, and then they’re flowing down his face slowly.
Is this alcohol induced or is something really wrong?
“Livi, I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, his eyes shimmering with the devastation that is wracking his body.
“I know. But you didn’t do anything. And you tried, I could see you were trying. I just couldn’t understand how you could love me or want me since I’m broken…” My lip trembles and he grabs my jaw and squeezes.
“You are not broken. You are perfect. Do you hear me? Never ever let anyone make you feel like you aren’t perfect. I will always love you and want you.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I want you now, so bad, Olivia.”
“Have me,” I whimper.
“Now?”
“Yes, make love to me, Bennett, please. We need this,” I beg, as I grind down on his dick.
“Livi, I want to. More than anything.” I go to pull my top off when he stops me and shakes his head. “But I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me later,” I breathe out. I’m not sure what it is, but for him to stop us from being intimate it has to be big. In the deepest darkest crevices of my mind, I suspect that he’d been unfaithful based on how he’s acting tonight coupled with how I’ve been acting for the past few months. But I chalk that up to the demons in my mind telling me I’m not good enough and that Bennett has moved on to someone else.
He would never, he loves me. I think, trying to quiet that pesky voice.
“No, Livi. I can’t…I need to tell you now.” I blink my eyes a few times. He sits me next to him and I immediately hate not being in his lap anymore. I try to climb back to that place of solace when he holds my shoulders, keeping me at arm’s length. “Let me get this out.”
In this moment, I know, and the tears automatically start flying down my face. I shake my head. “No.”