After the Climb (River Rain #1) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,67
nodded.
“It was not good. And although there is a part of me, in the months that came after, the endless talks, the counseling, that understands that, when my career dwindled, the roles I was offered were less interesting, less challenging, and then eventually simply insulting, I turned in on myself. Which means I tuned out my marriage, and him, and our sex life. Which I will admit, regrettably and with not a small amount of guilt, became nonexistent for a good length of time. It still was not okay for him to go out and fuck someone that was not me.”
“No,” Duncan said gently.
“But he did. And I couldn’t get past that. I tried. But I couldn’t. It was frustrating for us both. And harming what we had left. Which was still based in love, and respect, and history, and our family, and for me, very importantly, he was my best friend.”
Tears were brightening her eyes, and it took a lot for Duncan to keep his seat, but he did and said, “I get that.”
“So we made a deal to cut our losses with the marriage, and keep hold of the friendship. And so far, it’s worked.”
“And now there’s me.”
She nodded again. “And now there’s you.”
“And you don’t wanna lose him in the way you have him,” Duncan deduced.
She shook her head and looked away.
Now was the time.
He got off his stool and moved to her.
She didn’t fight him when he pulled her in his arms.
Hers only loosely went around him and she shoved her face in his chest.
And he was right.
It was the time.
Because she lost it.
“I-I’m not c-crying because there’s something there. It just died, Bowie. He killed it and he didn’t mean to, but he did. I c-couldn’t be intimate with him anymore. It was in my head. Did he touch her like that? Did he kiss her there? They’d fucked two times, and it was only her, and I believe that with the mess he was in sharing it, knowing what it was doing to us, and knowing it could have been fifty women and thousands of times, or just one just once, and it wouldn’t matter. The damage was done.”
She tipped her head back and her mascara was running a little.
“But I’d lost you and you were gone. We had a lot of sex, but you listened when I had a bad day, or we laughed when my mom was being crazy, or you unloaded on me when your dad was a dick. You were my go-to and then Tom was my go-to. I couldn’t lose another go-to.”
“Totally understandable,” he said soothingly.
“And I can’t now, even if I have my other go-to back,” she admitted, then shoved her face in his chest again.
“I’m not ever gonna ask that, Genny,” he assured, rubbing her back.
He said it. He meant it.
It was going to be tough, in the beginning.
But if this guy could get a lock on whatever was fucking with his head that made him be a dick to her, Duncan was willing to do it.
“Yeah,” she snuffled. “That’s how you get to be a go-to.”
He grinned, bent, kissed the top of her head, and then asked, “So, he lost it with you this morning and what?”
“I’ve texted and told him when he gets a handle on it, he can call me, and we’ll talk it out.” She tipped her head back again. “He has not called me.”
“You need to give him the go-to speech, beautiful.”
“Wh-what?” she asked, blinking up at him and lifting a hand to swipe her cheek.
Mascara disaster.
He didn’t say that.
“Gen, if he’s the guy I think he is, and that’s just what I know with you wanting to keep him in your life, then he’ll hear the go-to speech and sort his shit. Give him time to get his head straight. And then call him. It’ll be okay.”
“I’m not making excuses for him, I’m saying, you live, you learn, and although I found I couldn’t forgive Tom for sullying our marriage bed, Tom couldn’t forgive me for not only not being able to forgive him, but also not turning to him, which was what sent him searching. You see, Bowie, he knew he was my go-to and that meant a lot to him. And when I hit that crisis, I didn’t go to him. He saw that as a betrayal. The thing is, he turned right around and instigated the same thing, because honestly, he didn’t try too hard to reach me.