deserve it, but I want it more than I want to live. I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me this time, Rachel.”
She looked at him with such hope and devastation that it broke his heart.
He grasped both her hands and brought them up to his chest to lie over his heart.
“I don’t expect us to have it all worked out in a day or even a month. You have a lot to remember. I have a lot of trust to rebuild between us. Will you at least come home with me so we can talk about this some more? Please, Rachel. Come home with me. Give me this much. I know I don’t deserve it, but at this point I’m begging.”
She hesitated, staring back at him with tortured eyes. He’d sworn he never wanted to see such anguish in her face again, like the day she walked away when he’d told he wanted a divorce. And yet now, it was ten times worse. She was infinitely fragile and so utterly destroyed that he feared she may never trust him again. What if he lost her? What if after the miracle of getting her back, he lost her after all?
“I’m scared,” she said in a hoarse, heart-wrenching voice. “I’m sick at heart.”
She pulled her hands away from his chest and turned away from him. The seeming rejection knotted his stomach. This was how she felt. The day he told her it was over. This was how she had to have felt. Like the world was coming down around her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do.
It hurt him that he’d hurt her—had hurt her for so long. If he could protect her from those memories, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but God, he couldn’t. His time was up.
He reached out to touch her hair and then let his hand drift down to her shoulder. She flinched but he didn’t draw away. He couldn’t. He didn’t want any distance between them. He couldn’t accept that he could possibly lose her after getting back everything he’d ever wanted.
“Rachel,” he whispered. “Look at me please.”
For a long moment, she hesitated, and then she finally turned, her eyes lowered at first. He rubbed his thumb over her jaw and to her chin until she raised her gaze to meet his.
“I love you. I want you. I want us.”
She swallowed and raised a shaking hand to wipe at the corner of her eye. “I want that too, Ethan. But only if it’s real.”
“Then come home with me.”
She stared back at him, her heart so vibrant in her eyes. Finally she nodded her agreement, and his chest caved in with relief. At least she wasn’t refusing to speak to him.
“Let me tell Sam and Garrett that I’m taking you home, so they won’t worry.” He raised one of her hands to his mouth and kissed her open palm. “Be right back, baby.”
Ethan hurried down to the basement and stuck his head in the door. He didn’t want a confrontation with his brothers, especially Garrett. It was bad enough Van knew about Ethan’s fuckups, but now that Sam and Garrett also knew, it made Ethan feel like an even bigger ass.
Sam and Garrett both put away the files they were studying and surveyed Ethan with open curiosity.
“Just wanted to tell you that I’m taking Rachel back to the house.”
Garrett frowned. “Does she want to go?”
Ethan sucked in a breath through his nose. He had no right to get angry when Garrett was just looking out for Rachel. Just like he always had, but Ethan had been too stupid and insecure to know it.
“Yeah. We need to talk. Things have changed. I fucked up.” He looked directly at his brothers. “I can’t lose her.”
Sympathy simmered in Sam’s expression, and Garrett might have softened an iota. It was hard to tell around his scowl.
“Good luck, man,” Sam said.
Ethan backed out of the basement and hurried up to where Rachel waited. He held out his hand to her and waited for her to take it.
Tentatively she slid her fingers over his palm. For a moment he savored that small amount of trust, and he silently swore never to abuse that trust again.
It was still pitch-black outside, and he checked his watch. Two in the morning. Hell, they should both still be in bed, him wrapped as tight around her as he could go.
He ushered her into the truck