Paper Bride ✔️ (Book 4 - DP Series - COMPLETE)

30. An Accident

I can tell that Seth is emotionally drained. He hadn't been prepared to release all that pent-up energy just yet, but I can see the droop in his shoulders. The burdens he's been carrying around for so many months have finally been released. He looks like he could drop into a coma and sleep for a week. I wouldn't stop him. There's no doubt we both need rest. I just hope this moment will be the beginning of something new. I hope that from now on we can just keep moving forward, birthing a new love between us. A love filled with passion and trust.

"I won't be sleeping in here tonight," Seth vocalizes a moment later, and my eyes snap up to watch him stand from the bed. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and then spins slowly around to face me. "Believe me, I want to, but I just can't right now."

I nod carefully, appreciative of his honesty—no matter how much it hurts to hear. He's not just showing me respect by giving us some space, he's respecting himself and his own heart. I've already hurt him enough. It's suddenly so clear—all the pain and weariness pulling at the lines of his face. He's so beautiful, even when standing on the brink of emotional defeat, and yet, all I feel is guilt for putting those lines there.

I want to wrap him up in my arms and beg him to understand. I need for him to listen to me for just a minute, to listen to my side of the story... but then I realize I have nothing to say. I have no reason for the things I did. I don't think I even realized I was doing them. I was just so excited by my new career those two years ago, and as I got busier, so did Seth. In my mind, it had been a mutual decision to put our careers first. I'm not sure why I didn't stop things right then and there, because I'd never encourage putting a job before my family. And yet, I did just that.

Maybe I should be angry right now. Maybe I should beg him to love me back, but I can't do that. It's not his fault that his heart can't reciprocate my feelings, because, ultimately, it's my fault that he can't. He once said that he didn't know what he'd do with himself if he lost my heart. My response was simply for him not to lose it. But how could he possibly hold onto it when I was the one who plucked it from his hands?

If I'd stopped for just a moment and taken a look at where our marriage was headed, things could have been so much different. I need to get my head and my heart on the same team, because right now, they seem to be working against each other. My head wants success, my heart wants Seth. What a disaster I've created... all on my own.

It's unforgivable, really. To think that the person creating all my pain was actually the one hurting the most. It makes my heart want to shy away from beating. I can't even lift my heavy limbs from where they lay limp at my side. I've still got Seth's phone cradled in my palm, but the screen went to sleep long ago. There's nothing more to see. He's been honest with me from the get-go, and yet, I was furious at him for appearing unfaithful. How can someone be furious at an assumption? I'd been willing to destroy our marriage all over a suspicion. Why didn't I just let him explain?

I'm so stupid.

I watch Seth leave the room, making sure to mutter a goodnight to him as he shuts the door. He offers a nod and a relaxed smile, but nothing more. And then he's gone.

I don't sleep. My dinner sits cold on the side table, my stomach refusing to indulge in what I know to be the world's best Mac and Cheese. I just can't though. Even smelling it is difficult. My gut is twisted so tight with remorse that I know I wouldn't be able to keep any food down if I tried.

I huddle beneath my blankets, tears staining my pillowcase as regret eats away at the protective sheath coating my nerves. I feel raw—on edge. Every creak in the night, every howl of a coyote—it all has me jerking into alertness. I keep hoping that it's Seth coming to wrap himself around me as he whispers apologies and dreams in my ears. And then I realize that he's got nothing to apologize for—nothing serious anyway when compared to my faults. Sure, he had just as much of an opportunity to sit me down and hash things out as I did, but in the end, I was the one slowly pushing him away.