The Reason I Married Him

I stare at my reddened eyes in the mirror and shake my head. “What a stupid day,” I mutter.

I’m all cried out. I’m emotionally spent. And all I want to do now after a long shower, some mindless scrolling through social media, and my dinner, which consisted of an apple, is go to bed.

Wyatt hasn’t even bothered returning to the guest house, and for a moment, I was worried that perhaps Ryland forced him away, but then I dropped the thought because I shouldn’t be worried about him. I should be furious, wishing he’d never come back to this guest house, but unfortunately, that’s not how love works.

Because despite feeling heartbroken, I miss him. I hate that he did this to us. I hate that he didn’t talk to me. I hate that he hid the truth, as if he was too ashamed to tell me anything. He knows so much about me. How did it happen that I skipped the part of getting to know him?

Exhausted, I finish brushing my teeth and then move into the bedroom just as Wyatt walks through the door. When our eyes meet, he gently smiles but doesn’t say anything. I take in his already formed black eye and his fat lip. Ryland got him good.

Needing to ignore him, I move to my side of the bed, plug my phone in, and turn away from where I know he’ll be sleeping. I meant what I said, I will earn this land, even if that means sleeping in the same bed as Wyatt for the next year. If I learned anything through the years of abuse from my father, it’s how to persevere.

I hear him move around, getting ready for bed, but I keep my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. After a few minutes, I hear him check the locks on the door and then the bed dips from the weight of his body. I expect him to move in close, but when he doesn’t, I realize he’s gotten the hint.

It’s better off this way.

I curl into my pillow, let out a sigh, and try to focus on falling asleep, but with every passing second when his arm isn’t wrapped around me, I realize this will be so much harder than I thought.

That’s until he says, “I met her a few years ago in a coffee house.” What is he talking about? “She was trying to sell her family’s coffee, and I was writing. She spilled the coffee everywhere, and I helped her pick it up. I thought she was pretty, so I asked her out on a date. Our relationship was easy. There wasn’t much substance to it now that I think about it, but at the time, I wasn’t really aware what true love was.”

He’s talking about Cadance.

And what does he mean by not being aware at the time of what true love really is? Is he referring to the fact that he knows what it is now?

“I asked her to marry me, she said yes, and then it was wedding planning. I got lost in the mix of it all and had book deadlines. Now that I think about it, I didn’t notice how much she was pulling away. The night before our wedding, she came to me and said she didn’t love me anymore and didn’t want to get married. I was devastated. But I think that devastation stemmed more from embarrassment than anything because as time went on, I started to realize that maybe I hadn’t been in love with her like I thought.”

He shifts on the bed but doesn’t move closer to me.

“What made all of this glaringly obvious was when you came into my life. I quickly found out that the feelings I had for Cadance were nothing compared to the way I feel for you, Aubree. What I had with Cadance was surface level. What I feel for you rides so much deeper than anything I’ve ever felt. And I know you don’t want to hear it, not after holding back things you should know about me, but I will spend every night for the next year showing you just how much you mean to me, how connected I am to you, and how much I love you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as my throat starts to tighten.

No, he did not just say that.

He did not just confess his love.

I . . . I’ve wondered, questioned, hoped that possibly he felt the same way, but now . . . now, it feels weird. Now, it doesn’t feel real. It feels cheapened and less.

So I don’t say anything. I stay silent, and I close my eyes.

One night down, over three hundred to go.

KEEPING my fuzzy socks on since it’s a chilly night, I slip into bed while Wyatt is in the bathroom taking a shower. I spent the entire day out on the farm helping Parson and Echo, getting my hands dirty and trying to erase the feeling of last night.

It helped, up until the point that I had to have dinner with Ryland and the family. Wyatt was there, but he mainly interacted with Mac and played with her, which of course Mac was obsessed with. She dressed him up with horse ears, and together, they played with Chewy Charles and Chewy Chonda. He also helped put her to bed while I snuck out and showered. When he returned to the guest house, he smiled and went straight to the bathroom.

It’s cordial but awkward.

I plug my phone in, and I turn away from Wyatt’s side like I did last night just as he exits the bathroom. He locks up the guest house and then slips into bed.

He turns toward me, and I hold my breath, wondering if he will wrap his arm around me tonight, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “There are some things I never told Cadance because I was ashamed to share them with her, just like I was ashamed to share things with you.”

My body stiffens at the sound of his voice.

“My dad is a perfectionist. I love him very much and have a great relationship with him, but I also learned to suppress many of my misgivings to ensure I was doing the right thing in his mind. He wanted me to be a software engineer or a banker, something that offered stability. He didn’t like that I wanted to write, but he supported it. It wasn’t until I proved my worth with my pen that he accepted me for who I was. I’m not saying this to gather pity from you. I’m telling you this because I want you to know where I come from.”

I wet my lips, listening intently.

“I think I put too much pressure on myself to look perfect on the outside when, in reality, it’s the furthest thing from the truth. I’ve wanted to put on a show of no mistakes and shortcomings, so I’d never disappoint. That’s carried on through my adult life. I don’t want to disappoint the people around me, my friends, my publisher, my agent . . . my readers. And by suppressing who I truly am, I didn’t allow myself to fully open up to you. I’m sorry, Aubree. You deserve so much better.”

I understand what that feeling is like . . . to want to always be perfect and never show an ounce of weakness.

“So here is something not so perfect about me. I spent weeks on Laurel’s couch after the wedding was cancelled, staring at the ceiling and wasting my life away. It wasn’t until she forced me to take a shower did I start moving again. And when I took my clothes off to change, I singed the hairs in my nostrils from the putrid smell radiating from my armpits.”

The smallest of smiles peeks past my lips.

It’s very small, but it’s there.

“The smell was so bad, I nearly passed out and cracked my head open on the sink. Luckily, I held it together enough to wash up. But I did leave a body imprint on her couch, one that’s still there. I know now that depression wasn’t from missing Cadance but from being imperfect.” He moves an inch closer and lowers his voice. “But being imperfect is what makes us human, something I’m starting to accept. Good night, Aubree. I love you.”

I STEP out of the bathroom and find Wyatt sitting on the edge of the bed. I stayed later at the main house to work out some logistics with Hattie in The Almond Store and the chickens we have coming in soon.

When I got back to the guest house, Wyatt was already showered and ready for bed, so I took my time getting ready, thinking he’d fall asleep, but nope, he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed this whole time, waiting for me. Not wanting to go around him, I enter the bed from the foot of it and then slide into the sheets from there.

He stands and checks the locks like every night before slipping under the covers, but like the other two nights, he moves another inch closer so I can feel his body heat.

We have yet to talk or interact other than his one-sided conversations at night, and when Hattie or even Echo ask me how it’s going, I just tell them that we’re living together but not talking. I don’t miss the sad look on Hattie’s face every time I tell her nothing’s going on, but she’s just like Cassidy, hoping for love for everyone.

When I close my eyes, pretending to fall asleep, he says, “You looked really pretty today. You look pretty every day, but I love when you wear overalls. I love when you have a bandanna tied up in your hair, and I love when you don’t wear makeup. Your freckles pop through, and it’s almost like I can truly see you unguarded. Today was one of those days when I was reminded, like a kick to the gut, just how beautiful you are.”

My teeth fall on my top lip as I try not to let his words or the proximity of his body affect me. It feels like when he was trying to make me comfortable with his kisses all over again. Slowly and surely, he chipped away every night. And just like the kisses, I feel like it’s working.

“I know I never told you about the first time I ever met you, and I don’t know if you even remember it, but it was at Clarke and Cassidy’s rehearsal. You wore this green dress that clung to your curves with this scoop neckline. You caught my eye immediately, and Clarke told me to keep to myself, that I was not to bother you, especially since you were younger than me. But that didn’t stop me from stealing glances throughout the night. And at one point, you were leaning forward, talking to Cassidy at the table, and the neckline of your dress dipped. Fuck, did I take a good look at your cleavage. That night, it’s all I fucking thought about, so when you showed up at the wedding wearing another low-cut dress, I nearly wept.”

I can’t hold back. I let out a small snort because how ridiculous.

“When I realized the dress had a high slit, I cried into my napkin.” He scoots in another inch, and now it feels like there is but a mere centimeter between us. “I didn’t know at the time that the crush I had for you would turn into a full-blown case of love, but here I am.” His finger runs along my hip, and I still, my breath caught in my throat. “I knew there was something special about you back then. I wish I’d have approached you, asked you out, done something to make that connection with you because I think about all the things in life we could have experienced together. You could have held my hand when I found out Clarke died—one of the worst days of my life, a day I don’t talk about much. We weren’t that close, but that’s what rocked me because we could have been if I’d put in more effort, one of the biggest regrets of my life. And when Cassidy passed, I could have been there for you, for the family, for Mac. I know it’s a would-have, could-have, should-have moment, but making a move on you back then would have been one of the smartest decisions I ever made. Good night, Aubree. I love you.”

HATTIE: What do you think he’s going to tell you tonight?

I stare down at my phone as Wyatt is in the bathroom once again getting ready.

I had dinner with Hattie and Echo tonight, making it a girls’ night, and I told them all about Wyatt and the things he’s been saying to me at night. Of course Hattie was head over heels in love with the stories, while Echo took a more calming approach and asked me how I felt about it.

I told her it felt like he was wearing me down, making me forget why I was mad in the first place. She reminded me it was because he never opened up to me and that put things back into perspective, because now, it feels like he’s an open book, like I can read him so clearly.

Aubree: I don’t know, but I’m worried.

Hattie: Why are you worried?

Aubree: Because I don’t want him to say something to me that will break down my wall.

Hattie: A wall that’s already cracked.

Aubree: Exactly.

Hattie: Would it be so bad if you did let down that wall, Aubree?

Aubree: Yes. I don’t want to get hurt again.

Hattie: I can understand that, but a part of me thinks that you’re not giving him the chance that he deserves.

Aubree: You think I should give him another chance?

Hattie: Absolutely. He didn’t tell you the truth about his past. That’s awful, and I get it, but he’s telling you now. He’s telling you he loves you. He’s making the moves to be a part of your life, your forever life. Open up to him and give him the chance.

Aubree: And if he hurts me?

Hattie: He won’t. From the conversation he had with Ryland and me, I can promise you, he won’t.

Wyatt takes that moment to exit the bathroom, freshly showered and looking so good in a pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. He checks the locks on the door, and when he turns to face me in bed and I’m not curled away from him, he smiles.

“Hey, you.”

I press my lips together and quietly say, “Hey.” Before he can respond or before I can take in his reaction, I turn away from him and plug my phone in. I rest my head on my pillow and curl my knees up toward my chest as he slides into bed. This time, he leaves no space between us as his hand lands on my hip.

“I was thinking about what I wanted to talk to you about tonight, and all that came to mind was our wedding day. I’m not sure we ever truly talked about it. We went from saying I do, to taking pictures, to dancing and eating, to straight to an airplane. We never reflected on the day. But I want to tell you”—his hand crawls up my hip to my side—“that was one of the happiest moments in my life because I felt you were my person that day. You became my person. It happened quickly, but every time I looked into your eyes, I felt like I was looking into the future. It felt like all my insecurities were washed away, all my thoughts on what love is were erased from my memory, and a new seed was planted.”

His hand slides over my stomach, and I lean into his hold.

“Those days in the cabin, it was everything I could have asked for, Aubree. But I want so many more nights there with you. I want to take you there during the holidays, spend our anniversary there, take Mac down there and create memories with her, but most importantly, I need you to know this.” His voice grows deeper as he says, “If I had to choose, if I had to give up the cabin to be with you, to gain back your trust, to earn your love, I’d do it without even thinking. I can always create new memories in a new cabin, but I can’t replace you. I can’t replicate this feeling I have when you’re around me.” His hold on me grows tighter as my breath shallows. He moves his lips closer to my ear, a mere whisper away. “You are what I care about. You are my end goal, Aubree. Only you.”

I lean against him, to the point that when he tugs on my stomach, I roll to my back, and I’m staring up at him. His hand moves up to my face, where his thumb strokes my cheek before he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I love you, Aubree, so fucking much, and I plan on proving that to you every day. Not just with my words but with my actions.” He leans in, and I give in, letting him take hold of my heart again. He brings his forehead to mine, and my heart bursts. My mind is made up. I don’t think I can go another night without him wrapped around me, with me holding in these feelings I have for him.

“I . . . I love you, Wyatt,” I say, finding my voice.

He lifts just enough to look me in the eyes. “Fuck, are you serious right now?”

The look of shock. The watery eyes, it’s almost funny enough to smile. But I hold myself together as I nod.

“Very serious, Wyatt. I never stopped.”

“Baby,” he says, stroking my face. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you had to hear about my past from Cadance and Wallace and that you had to experience them at all. I should have protected you better, and I swear, moving forward, I’ll do just that. Above anything else, you are my number one priority.”

“You’re mine too,” I say as I touch his chest. “I . . . I just want you to be honest and open with me. I know there’s still so much to learn, but when I ask you something, please tell me the truth.”

“I will,” he says. “I know that trying to protect you from the truth only hindered our relationship. I won’t do it again. Please just tell me that we’re okay, that we will be okay, that . . . that this marriage is still real.”

I smile up at him and run my hand to the back of his neck. I look into the eyes of a man I never saw coming, and I realize that the farmland was the reason I married him, but I’ll stay because of who he is as a man.

The loyalist.

The protector.

The lover.

The jokester.

The rock I’ve needed for so long.

“It’s so real,” I say just before he brings his lips to mine, and we kiss.

His lips control mine as they open, and our tongues meet. His hand drives up my shirt, removing it in an instant and leaving me naked in his arms. He lifts up for a breath and stares down at me, his eyes in total wonderment.

“Fuck me, I’m so lucky.”

I pat his cheek. “You really are.”

He throws his head back and laughs before he moves down my body and spreads my legs.

On the contrary, I think I’m the lucky one.