Can't Lose Me

by Amanda Torrey

  Her cheeks burned. She didn’t want to discuss that.

  “It’s not like it will happen again. It was a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding?” He roared, and she recoiled, unaccustomed to his anger. “He ‘accidentally’ kissed you? You ‘accidentally’ fell into his lips? Please explain what kind of situation leads to a misunderstanding where a boss kisses his married employee. Because that sounds a hell of a lot like either sexual harassment or—”

  She bit back her tears and grated her teeth. Through the cloud of anger and fear and sadness and dread that brewed in her own body, she spat, “Or what?”

  He prowled toward her, looking more threatening than ever. How was it that one second he could be cherishing her and protecting her and the next he looked like he could snap her in half?

  He stood so close that she had to strain her neck to look up at him.

  “Or you wanted him to.”

  She shoved him away from her and hurried into her clothing.

  “No response, Mackenzie? Why? Wouldn’t be the first time you destroyed me.”

  “I already told you the kiss was a misunderstanding. It wasn’t even a kiss, Gabe! He didn’t sexually harass me; he simply misread my kindness for interest. Now that he knows where I stand, he won’t try it again.”

  “I don’t want you to work there.”

  “And I don’t want you telling me what I can do!”

  He stilled. She struggled to breathe.

  “Forgive me.” He scowled. “I didn’t realize that asking my wife not to work with someone who took advantage of her was overstepping my bounds.”

  “It’s not. But you have to hear me when I tell you that I love the job. I need the job. I can’t give up on it and risk not fulfilling that part of me that needs to care for others. I can’t have babies, but I can at least help the vulnerable residents who need someone who is on their side. It’s not fair of you to expect me to give that up.”

  “So let me get this straight. When you said you didn’t like the way you were feeling, what you really meant was that you needed more than what I could give you to make you feel better about yourself.”

  “That’s not at all what I’m saying, Gabe. But no one can expect a partner to fulfill every need.”

  “And you need another man?” Though he didn’t raise his voice, his tone was icy enough to chill her to the very core.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “How ridiculous? I’m your husband, and I’m asking you to respect me enough to give up a job where a man is actively pursuing you. You are telling me that you can’t do it. That you feel better working there than you do being with me.”

  She felt herself slipping back into her old self. The weak one. The one who was better off appreciating the wonderful, contented life she lived rather than striving for more. The one who would nod and smile and convince herself that any path was fine if Gabe was there to hold her hand.

  In some ways, this was true. She’d walk through fire to be with him.

  But how happy would they be together if she did all the sacrificing and he didn’t understand what she needed?

  She straightened her shoulders while she twisted her wet, dripping hair into a bun.

  “If that’s what you think, then you don’t know me at all.”

  “How am I supposed to know you when you run away rather than talk to me? When you come back and act like I’m supposed to change to accommodate the new you when you won’t even tell me who the hell you are?”

  “If it’s so hard to get to know me again, then maybe we should just quit while we’re ahead.”

  He met her gaze with an equally stony one, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring.

  “You’d rather throw our marriage away than leave the asshole who kissed you?”

  She refused to answer. He was twisting the situation and her heart.

  “You have to get to the shop.” She knew they needed to take a breather. Some space. They were both tired and emotional and too trigger-happy to have this discussion.

  She’d call out of work tonight and sit with him over a warm cup of tea, where they’d relax and discuss the situation with cooler heads and warmer hearts.

  “I want you and your damned cats out of my house before I get home.”

  “What? You’re kicking me out?”

  “No, I’m just giving you what you want.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  She tried to block him from leaving the room, but he lifted her by her upper arms and moved her out of the way. Like a desperate, pathetic fool she raced after him.

  “Gabe, we can’t live apart. What about the court order?”

  “I don’t give a damn about the court order.” Shoving his feet into his boots, he turned and glared at her as she desperately tried to think of a way to fix the problem without giving in to his every demand. “I’d rather lose everything than live with you for one more damned week.”

  Scraping up the tiny bits of pride she hadn’t already tossed at his feet, she clamped her mouth tight and refused to give voice to the desperate woman inside her who so badly wanted to make Gabe feel better.

  She had come back to Healing Springs wanting Gabe back, but she didn’t want to lose the self she had found while she was away.

  After another hard glare, he stormed out of the house, not even grabbing his coat.

  She didn’t know if her face was wet from her dripping hair or tears she wished she wouldn’t shed, but she wiped her face with the back of her hands and got right to work packing her bag and loading the meowing cats into their carriers.

  He wanted her gone? She’d waste no time granting his wish.

  She couldn’t go back to her mother’s—she wasn’t ready to try to explain a situation she couldn’t understand herself. She checked her credit card balance from her phone once she was in the car, then drove to the new cottage motel place that Reed Peterson had recently opened up, where she was given a key to her very own slightly-remote cottage on the edge of the woods. She then texted Betty asking for a few days off due to a personal emergency. She settled into the cozy cottage, feeling anything but soothed and unable to think of anything else but the angry look on Gabe’s face. A face that had worshipped her body all night and all morning.

  A face forever etched in her mind.

  A face that looked at her with anger for so many reasons.

  When they reunited, it would be at the courthouse on the day of the hearing.

  A hearing neither of them had thought to cancel.

  Chapter Twenty

  He was a world-class asshole, but even admitting that to himself didn’t manage to mend the wounds she had created.

  He had kicked her out.

  After riding a rollercoaster full of the highest highs, the craziest loops, and the most exhilarating wind-in-your-face ecstasy last night, he had let his anger get the best of him.

  And he didn’t know how to backtrack.

  He screwed the last screw into the strike plate and tossed the screwdriver into the lobby of his shop.

  He had barely survived the year she had been gone, but ever since Kenzie came back to his life, he had barely been able to cope with having her gone for a shift at her other job.

  Working with her and living with her again had made him feel complete for the first time in a very long time.

  But if he were to be completely honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he had not felt whole even before she left.

  And if he were going to be even more honest, he wasn’t sure if the kiss from her boss was the main reason for his extreme anger.

  Sure, he wanted to punch the fucking guy’s face in.

  But lashing out at her had almost felt good. Like he had been searching for a good enough reason to unleash wrath he hadn’t realized was buried in a shallow grave near the surface of his irritation.

  What the hell was his problem?

  He swept up the splinters and debris the firefighters had l
eft behind, searching his mind for the root of all his marital evil.

  He didn’t want to rehash the whole miscarriage thing—living through it had been bad enough—but like a lightning bolt, there it was.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to try again.

  Could he be okay with that? Or would he keep trying to convince her? Would he forever hope that she’d come around? Would he ever be able to believe that this woman who was a nurturer to her core would be content not being a mom?

  And he hadn’t wanted to admit it to her, but she was right about his desire for a regimented life. He liked working with her and seeing her throughout the day. He liked knowing he’d be sitting across the dinner table with her every evening. He liked the idea of winding down with her in his arms every night.

  But was her desire to work at her own career a deal-breaker? He didn’t think so.

  Was he really that much of a caveman?

  She had changed. Not entirely—she was still the sweet girl whose books and heart he had wanted to carry for the rest of his life. But in their previous life—the life they had before the separation—she had never spoken against him. Had never said she wanted anything different. Had never branched out on her own.

  He liked the new her just as much as the old her. She was still the same Kenzie, but with a bit more bite.

  But could he adapt his life to the new her?

  He tossed the broom back into the closet, slamming the door as the broom began to fall back toward him.

  He had probably already blown his chances, anyway.

  And he wasn’t sure his pride could weaken enough to do anything about it.

  ***

  “You have to stay in the wheelchair if you want me to be allowed to take you out of the home. You know I sign a contract every time I take you off property.”

  Mackenzie raised her eyebrows and gestured for Mr. Clark to sit back down. He had been getting more wobbly lately, and Betty hadn’t been happy about Mackenzie asking to sign him out, especially since she had taken a leave of absence. She had waited to go visit until she knew Antoine wouldn’t be there. Eventually she’d have to face him—if she stayed in town—but she couldn’t deal with the stress quite yet. Not when she was missing Gabe so much.

  “Oh, piddle. The good Lord gave me these legs, and I plan to use them until he takes them away.”

  Mackenzie sighed.

  “All right, then. I’ll have to take you home.”

  “Nonsense. We’re already at the park. Didn’t you tell me we couldn’t let this sunny day go to waste? How often do we get fifty degree temperatures in February? It was snowing three days ago.”

  She smiled at his logic.

  “I agree. I was really looking forward to walking around the pond since the snow has all melted. And I know you’ve been wanting to go up in the tree house. Thank goodness there’s a handicap ramp, right? But if you aren’t feeling up to following the rules, we can try again another time.”

  “I’m a grown man. I can make my own rules!”

  “I agree with you, Mr. Clark. But I will lose my job if you don’t comply with the agreement we both signed. I can’t risk that.”

  Mr. Clark mumbled under his breath, but he clambered his way back into the wheelchair.

  “Thank you,” Mackenzie leaned forward to speak in his ear. “I really need the fresh air and exercise.”

  “You know, young lady, you can be an independent woman and still be with your husband. Damn kids these days throw away a relationship like it’s yesterday’s newspaper.”

  “I didn’t throw it away, Mr. Clark.” Not really.

  Mr. Clark waved his hand in the air dismissively.

  “Nonsense. Too much of that touchy-feely garbage today. Have you been watching those silly shows the nurses put on in the afternoon in the television room? Makes me want to throw my cane at the television.”

  Mackenzie laughed. She agreed with him on that.

  “We got married young. Sometimes people grow apart.” The thought of growing apart sent shards of pain directly to her lungs, curdled her stomach, and shocked her heart.

  “Enough of your psycho-babble. I married my wife when she was sixteen years old. When we had differences we dealt with them.”

  “We’re dealing with our differences.”

  “By being apart? Fiddlesticks.”

  Mackenzie increased the speed of her gait.

  “It’s not up to me, Mr. Clark.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Mr. Clark muttered.

  But she heard him loud and clear.

  After he had aired all of his opinions about her life, he managed to settle in for a nice afternoon at the park. She caught a glimmer of a smile when she huffed him up the ramp of the tree house. He sat back, absorbed the gorgeous view of the icy pond, and remained pensive until he gestured for her to bring him home.

  As they walked back to the car, a group of preschool-aged children rushed past them, their smiles and laughter warming up the day and making it even brighter.

  One of them stopped next to Mr. Clark’s wheelchair, reaching out to touch the big wheel.

  The boy’s mother immediately stepped in and grabbed his hand, apologizing and blushing as she pulled the whining child away.

  Mr. Clark didn’t seem to notice.

  He didn’t speak on the drive back to the nursing home, and she noticed a slight shift in his attitude when she helped him out of the car and up the front steps. She let him walk, but he was a bit wobbly and needed her to hold his elbow.

  His eyes were confused when she walked him to his room, and though he hadn’t confused her for his wife all day, when she bent down to kiss his cheek, he did call her by his wife’s name.

  Tears streamed down Mackenzie’s face as she rushed out of the home, not wanting to run into any of the staff while she was visibly upset.

  Here was a man who still thought of his wife every moment, even though she had died decades ago. A man who had never let the love of his life go, no matter how confused he got. He saw his beloved wife in the face of a woman who took care of him. He smelled her perfume on the wind. He felt her touch in his quiet moments.

  And Mackenzie was throwing time away. Gabe had thrown her away.

  She couldn’t spend the entire week apart moping around and missing him. She had to put some thought into this. She either had to accept the divorce willingly, or she had to win him back.

  She knew that if she tried to win him back again, she had to be absolutely certain that life with him was what she absolutely wanted and needed. She’d have to accept him with his bumps and bruises, his high expectations, and his stubborn inflexibility. She’d have to be willing to give up certain things, so she’d better be damned certain that what she gained was more valuable than what she’d lose.

  Her instant reaction was to tell herself that of course Gabe was worth sacrificing some things for.

  But she had to be certain.

  She had to believe it one hundred percent if she were going to try to convince him that he should want her and that she’d never leave.

  In order to accomplish this inner knowledge, she knew she had to let herself feel what life without him would be.

  Mackenzie blew her nose, turned her car on, and started driving. She parked next to the town common where she lost track of time watching the families play in the unseasonable mud.

  She had to do some serious reflecting.

  True, she had lived without him for a year. But she couldn’t call what she did while she was away truly living.

  She had merely existed.

  She had been lucky enough to fall back in stride with him after bottoming out in a pothole or two, but had they been settling for one another? Had nostalgia been keeping them together? Or was their love a living, breathing force that could evolve with time? Was their love fluid enough to pour through every bend in the creek?

  She had to know. He had to know.

  She thought she knew for cert
ain, but she hadn’t put any thought into it. Only feeling.

  Now was her time to think.

  What was there to think about?

  She tied her scarf around her neck since the sun was going down and the chill would soon set in. She slipped out of her car and walked around the park, letting everything sink in.

  Think.

  She had to think.

  Okay, logistical stuff. Could she exist without Gabe? Yes, she had already proven that.

  Could she imagine herself with another man?

  Though a relationship with another man wouldn’t be on her radar anytime soon—even if the divorce went through—she had to figure that she wouldn’t want to be alone forever. Since she had never been with anyone else, what would it be like?

  She thought of Antoine and the interest he had shown toward her.

  Antoine was a nice guy. He was kind. Compassionate with the residents. Fair to the staff. Successful. Good looking. His kiss, though unwanted, was pleasant enough. And a big plus—he didn’t want kids.

  He also wasn’t Gabe.

  She let out a breath and a groan of frustration.

  Thinking and reasoning wasn’t doing any good. She needed to take some action.

  She speed-walked across the street toward the bookstore, where she planned to fill her bag with romance novels and entertainment magazines to hide away while she was sequestered from Gabe.

  Thinking too much had led to poor choices before. Feeling too much might lead to poor choices in the future.

  Escaping might work.

  And in five more days, she’d see Gabe again under the worst possible circumstances.

  But two days without Gabe was already too much.

  Ugh.

  She hated herself.

  On the way to the bookstore, she stopped in front of Miss Molly’s shop. Valentine’s candy was seventy-five percent off, and she suddenly felt the need to consume large quantities of the sweet confections.

  The bells jingled behind her as she entered the store. Miss Molly, normally out-of-her-mind friendly and welcoming, hunched over the counter, writing furiously on tiny scraps of paper.