Page 58 of Almost Beautiful (Beautiful 3)

“It’s not your fault,” I said, kicking off my heels.

“I’m not fighting in The Circle again, I told you that. But I’m not going to be disrespected, either.”

“I know, Trav.” I walked over and touched his cheek. He leaned into my palm. “It’s not your fault.”

He’d made so many strides to change. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated for being asked to leave The Red for the second time in as many weeks. Travis was jealous enough when I was just his girlfriend. Now that I was his wife, men would try to buy me drinks right in front of him, make lewd comments on my body, or even—like that night—pat my ass. The level of restraint he’d shown was nothing short of miraculous, but every man had his limit.

“I should’ve just walked away,” Travis said, clearly angry with himself. “Jorie keeps threatening to ban me. One of these days she’s going to do it.”

I unzipped the back of my dress. “Jorie saw it. That guy deserved you kicking his seat out from under him.” He didn’t respond. “They’ll quit, Trav.”

“Maybe we should lay low for a while.”

I nodded.

Travis sighed and unbuttoned his shirt. We undressed in silence, took turns in the bathroom, and then Travis watched me climb into bed next to him.

I crawled beneath the sheets, snuggling up beside him as he stared at the ceiling. “It could be worse. We still have movie nights. Date nights. Mini golf. Rides on the Harley. It seems to only happen at The Red. That just means more alone time together.”

My hands slid over the peaks and valleys of his middle and settled on the bulge below the waistline of his shorts. “We should take these off.”

He didn’t move.

I kissed his neck with small kisses, and when he didn’t respond, I moved my hand and hugged him tight. For the first time, I felt like Travis might not want me.

His life was fun and freedom before me. Now it was mafia, fires, and the constant feeling of needing to protect me. Now, he couldn’t go to his favorite bar.

Knots began to form in my stomach. “Trav?”

“Yeah, Pidge?”

“You promised you would love me forever.”

He breathed like my words had knocked the wind out of him, and then he covered his eyes with his arm. “It’s not that, Pidge. Not even close.” He turned onto his side and wrapped me in both of his arms, squeezing gently.

“Talk to me,” I said against his chest.

“I know you didn’t want this. Now we’re having to stop going to places and you’re going to feel even more trapped.” He squeezed me tighter. “I don’t want you to get tired of everything, of me, and leave.”

I leaned back to look at the tears welling up in his eyes.

He looked down at me. “You’re going to leave me. No matter how hard I try to get this right, you’re going to get tired of my shit.”

I laughed once, shocked.

He frowned, unhappy with my reaction.

“No … I didn’t mean to laugh, I’m sorry, it’s just that … I was just thinking the same thing. That before you met me, your life was easy. Now it’s one thing after another. And not petty fights … like real, scary stuff and I was just worrying you were going to get sick of it.”

“I would never leave you. No matter what happens, there is not one thing from before that I’d rather have than you. But you … you’re not like me.”

I sat up, and he sat up with me, his expression full of worry, like yet again he’d said the wrong thing and I might end it. It was my fault; the entire time we were together I was famous for that very thing.

I took his chin in my hand. “Look at me, Travis Carter. Of course, you’re going to worry. I’ve left you before. More than once. But we weren’t married then, and I wasn’t sure which way was up. I made a decision, I made a promise, and I need you to believe me. You can’t keep worrying about it, it’s going to drive you insane. I will never, ever leave you. Do you hear me? You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. That will never change, Travis.Never. No matter what happens, I’m in this, we’re in this, for life.”

“You made the decision,” he said, still unconvinced. He looked away, the wheels in his head spinning, then he looked down. “But not because it’s what you wanted.”

“What are you talking about?”