Page 10 of Frozen Promises

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU

Elias

I stagger back. Not from the force of the push, but out of confusion.

Catalina’s eyes are wide, full of pain. When the first tear falls, a dagger enters my heart. César said this would be hard. I knew this would be hard, but I didn’t expect the weight of her tears to feel this heavy. I know I’m the reason for them.

“What are you doing here, Elias?” she asks, her voice tight. She crosses the room, putting distance between us. It’s as if an invisible barrier forms, keeping me out of reach. “You think showing up and handing me gifts is going to fix everything?”

I know it won’t, but a small, na?ve part of me had hoped it would ease some of the pain I’ve created.

“The gifts were to get you out of the cabin so I could—” I gesture around at my shoddy attempt at decorating.

Catalina has always been better at creating beautiful displays in our home.

I had little time and very few things to work with, so I did what I could.

Catalina crosses her arms over her chest, which is fucking distracting because it pushes her tits up obscenely.

Perhaps this is my torture. Every second spent not touching her is punishment.

If I reach out now, I’m certain she’ll push me off again.

I’m one to enjoy rough sex but not when Catalina is truly pissed at me.

“I’m here to listen and to fix what I can. I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did,” she snaps, the ire in her voice makes me frown.

I clamp down my anger. That won’t serve me here.

“I didn’t come to argue,” I say quietly, tucking my hands into my pockets. “I just . . . needed to say I’m sorry for everything. I should’ve been there for you.”

I let the first of what I’m sure will be many apologies hang between us. Catalina looks away as if trying to compose herself and find the right words.

“You think it’s just about you being gone?” she says after a tense silence. Her voice is calm, but tight with something deeper—hurt or resentment, maybe both. “You weren’t just absent; you stopped trying. I need you to hear why that matters.”

She drags her attention back to me, and I wish she didn’t. The pain in her eyes cuts deep. I want to bring her into my arms and hold her. I want to make her feel better. How can I be that man for her when I’m the reason she’s crying in the first place?

“Work has consumed your time. At first, I overlooked it, thinking that surely it’ll calm down.

But then you went back on your promises.

If we had a date, you’d reschedule it if work called you.

When I asked for your help with a video, you’d agree and then forget about it the next day.

You didn’t notice when I went away for day trips because you were rarely ever at the house.

“I needed you, Elias!” She screams, tears running down her cheeks. “I needed you, and you weren’t there. You’re never there!”

Her words press down on me like heavy weights. “I was working to provide us with the life you deserve, Catalina. Everything I do—everything that I ever do is for you. All my success in the firm has always been for you.”

“I don’t give a shit about your success, Elias! I needed you. Not your success. Not your money. Not the fancy gifts you bring. You!” Catalina shakes her head, her words echoing around us.

After a beat of silence, she says, “It’s not that I don’t care about your career. I do, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. You worked your ass off to get to where you are now, and I know you did it to give me a better life. But . . .” More tears.

More reasons to hate myself. I missed the point completely.

I was so blind to her needs for so long.

She never asked for more things. She asked for me.

My time. My attention. I brushed off the little moments because I was tired or stressed or just had one more email to send. I always had one more thing to do.

When all my wife truly needed was me.

Catalina takes a tentative step closer. “No life is better without you in it and present. I married you, Elias, not the job and money you’d have one day. You understand that, don’t you? It’s important to me you know this.”

The space between us shrinks, not just in distance, but in everything unsaid. I can see the wall she’s spent so long building around herself, brick by careful brick, beginning to come down.

This time, when I reach for her, she doesn’t flinch or retreat.

My fingers wrap gently around her wrist, and I draw her toward me, slow and deliberate, until we’re standing chest to chest. Her breath hitches as her eyes search mine, and for the first time in a long while, she doesn’t look like she’s trying to escape.

She looks up at me with pain etched into every line of her face, but beneath it something else flickers. It’s a fragile thread of hope she hasn’t quite let go of no matter how much she’s tried.

I cling to that.

“I thought I was doing enough,” I say softly. “Providing for you—for us. But somewhere along the way, I stopped being present. And I’m sorry.” There was no excuse for it, but I can’t go back and change the past.

I’m damn proud of my job and having my wife by my side through it all.

I love most things about being a lawyer and owning my own law firm, but she’s right.

My job takes up a shit ton of time. And for what?

What’s the use of having all this fucking money if I don’t use it to take Catalina on vacations and spoil my girl with dates?

“I need you present, Elias. I can’t go through feeling so alone that I thrived on the attention I got from my videos when I truly wanted it from my husband. Please don’t make me choose between loving you and my own happiness,” she begs, biting her lower lip.

I lean down, pulled by an invisible thread, and brush my lips against hers. It’s a soft, fleeting gesture, but I hear her breath hitch. How starved for attention have I left Catalina that a simple brush of my lips causes her to melt in my arms?

“Your happiness is with me, carino, and only ever with me.” I’ve been so close to pushing her away, but that shit ends tonight. Call it a Christmas fucking miracle or whatever, but Catalina will never feel unloved again.

“And I’ve never fallen out of love with you. Never.” My words come out harsher than I intend.

Catalina flushes. “You . . . saw my Live?” She sounds embarrassed.

“Yeah, baby, when you make that proclamation for the world to see, I see it.” I back her up against the couch. She gasps as I take her neck in my hand, squeezing just enough to get her attention. “That was a naughty thing to do, princesa.”

Catalina’s face turns into a scowl. “I was pissed at you! You deserved that.”

Perhaps I did. “That shit ends now, Catalina. I’m your husband, and you’ll never doubt that again. Never run to the fucking mountains and leave me without my wife.”

She opens her mouth to give me a bratty response, but I violently yank her forward until our lips clash. A needy moan leaves Catalina’s lips as fists my shirt in her hands to steady herself. I breathe her in, cursing myself for denying us these moments for far too long.

That ends today.

My wife’s going to be sick of me.

I reach down, grabbing each of her thighs, and lift her up. She squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck to secure herself. “Elias! I’m too heavy—”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me you’re too heavy. You think I'm a weak man that can’t pick up his wife? Can’t move her around to fuck her any way I wish? I need to remind you who your husband is.” As I speak, I carry Catalina toward the bedroom.

Slowly, her legs wrap around me, giving into my demands.

“Good girl,” I purr.

“Elias,” she moans, burying her face into my neck. “I’m still mad at you,” she mumbles.

“I can work with that.”

“I expect you to show me you’ve changed. Sorry won’t cut it if you don’t back it up with actions.” She tries to act stern, but her breathy tone gives her away.

I’ve no doubt she means her words. I plan to show her I intend to change. But right now, I plan on fucking her.

When I get to the bedroom, I kick open the door and carry her to the king-sized wooden bed centered on the back wall. Several quilts and pillows adorn the mattress so when I toss Catalina on to it, she bounces once and giggles.

“What if I said I don’t want to have sex with you?”

I stand above her, reaching for the buttons of my shirt. With quick, skilled fingers, I undo each button. “Because you’re upset with me?” I ask and once my shirt is open, I shrug it off and let it fall to the floor.

I don’t miss the way my wife licks her lips as she looks me over. “R-right.”

I smirk. “I suppose I would have to stop.” Though I have no intentions of stopping as I undo my jeans. Catalina squeezes her thighs together. Once I have my zipper undone, I grab her legs and pull her to the edge of the bed. “Are you going to stop me, carino?”

I know the answer before she speaks. Her gaze goes down my chest to the obvious bulge in the front of my jeans before slowly meeting my gaze. “You haven’t had sex with me in a long time. I thought . . .”

More reasons to hate my fucking ignorance. I lean down, drawing her in. “You thought what?”

She bites her lip, hesitating before answering. “I thought you didn’t find me pretty anymore.”

“And that’s my deepest regret,” I say, invading her space. “For you to think I’m not absolutely wild about you. That I don’t think of your body and being inside you at all times of the day. That I don’t jerk off in the shower at the thought of you.”

Catalina gasps, pink lips parting. I want nothing more than to fill her pretty mouth full of my cock. Later.

“You do that?”

“Every fucking time I shower.”

“Then why didn’t you . . . I mean I was right there!” She pouts.