Page 165 of The Havenport Collection

Maggie

W e fell asleep in front of the fire, naked and drunk on champagne and orgasms. I woke up with a fuzzy head and my husband wrapped around me.

He had filled out since college, and his face was covered with stubble, but he was still the man who had captured my heart all those years ago in physics class.

After taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of his masculine form, I got up, found my sweats, and went to brush my teeth. My morning breath would slay a dragon.

When I came out, Josh was puttering around in the kitchen, fussing with the very complicated coffee maker.

Things felt different. I felt different. Lighter. Freer. More relaxed. I stood at the wall of windows, staring at the thick blanket of snow outside, breathing deeply for the first time in what felt like years.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around me, and as I tipped back to rest against Josh’s chest, he dropped a kiss on my shoulder. We stood for a moment, viewing the mountains and the trees sagging with the weight of last night’s snowfall.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” he asked.

I let out a long breath and shrugged.

“The good news is that I figured out the fancy espresso machine. The bad news is that Janet texted; the roads are bad and the winds are still dangerous. We can’t get a plow up here.”

I turned around, my tranquility destroyed. “What? We need to get home today.”

He shook his head. “We’re stuck until tomorrow.”

“Shit,” I said, breaking out into a cold sweat.

He hugged me closer. “Maggie, look out there. We’re not going anywhere until they clear the roads.”

“But this was not the plan. I have to work tomorrow, and the kids have school.”

Josh put his hands on my shoulders. “Take a breath, okay? We’ll call the kids. I’m sure your mom will spend an extra night with them and get them on the bus tomorrow morning.”

I broke away, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s not that. It’s just”—I gestured around—“everything right now.”

Josh looked concerned. “Do you regret last night?”

“No. Yes.” I sighed, letting my shoulders slump. “I don’t know.”

He wrapped his arms around me again, pulling me close. “You seemed to enjoy yourself,” he said, kissing my neck. “You enjoyed yourself several times, if I recall.”

I put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. “That’s not the point, Josh. Having sex complicates things.”

He frowned, and his brows furrowed. “I’m not following. We connected emotionally and physically yesterday. We took major steps forward.”

I ground my teeth together in frustration.

I was stuck on this godforsaken mountain, and my husband was pressuring me while my head was completely scrambled by the three rounds of delicious sex we’d had last night.

I’d wanted to forward slowly and thought my mind and body were on the same page.

But last night, things. had sped way up, and I didn’t know what to say or do.

“I don’t want to do this right now, Josh.”

“Do what? Tell me the fucking truth? I’m tired of one step forward and two steps back, Maggie.

Tell me. Tell me what you’re thinking because I sure as shit have no clue what’s going on up there right now.

” He crossed his arms over his chest, nostrils flaring.

I didn’t blame him for being angry. I was being ridiculous.

This wasn’t how I operated. I didn’t follow my gut or intuition.

Didn’t make rash decisions. I strategized, planned, and followed through carefully.

We had crossed over into new territory last night, and I was completely lost.

“I’m just so angry,” I said, unable to verbalize the storm of emotions inside my head.

He stood, legs wide and arms crossed, never breaking eye contact. “Then tell me. Let it all out. Tell me why you’re angry. We’ve been dancing around this shit in therapy for months. Let me have it.”

I was taken aback. Josh was not a confrontational person—neither of us was.

And yet, emotions—anger, fear, hurt—bubbled to the surface.

I tried to suppress them; I’d been doing it since childhood.

But whether because of the vulnerability I was feeling after last night or the anxiety over the weather conditions and our ability to get home, I couldn’t stop myself.

“You stopped treating me as a partner. As an equal. I was your wifey . Washing your socks while you were out living your dreams. I would be up all night nursing and then go to work. Make dinner, do laundry. Send fucking family Christmas cards every year.”

He watched me as I gathered steam. “Keep talking,” he said in a monotone voice.

“I have been plugging away for years making your life easier, all while working my ass off to build a medical practice. And you didn’t notice.

All you cared about was the next brass ring.

The next fancy title or fellowship or the complicated surgery.

” My face was hot, no doubt turning redder by the second, and my fists involuntarily clenched.

The feeling was so foreign, yet so inevitable.

I paced across the room, putting more distance between us. “You weren’t the one up at night with a sobbing child who had a nightmare. You weren’t the one attending the parent-teacher conferences. I did everything, all while earning a living. And you never noticed.”

“I’m sorry, Maggie,” he said in an annoyingly soothing tone. “I understand.”

I saw red. “Don’t placate me, Josh. I’m not a hysterical patient.” He wasn’t getting it. “I’m exhausted. I’m overwhelmed. Back in college, we were partners. We had a shared dream for our future.”

“But then we got pregnant with Ava,” he said matter-of-factly.

That sent me over the edge. There was no simple explanation for the dissolution of our partnership.

It was so much more complicated than that.

“Don’t you dare blame her,” I spat. I was now full-blown screaming.

“Our kids are perfect and amazing and the best goddamn thing to happen to either of us. Everything went to shit when we became parents, but it’s our fault, not theirs. ”

Eyes wide, he looked taken aback by my words. But he needed to hear them.

“We revived our relationship a few times. Things got better when both kids were finally in school. We did our best. But then you came home and announced that you had applied for a corporate job in New York. Without even talking to me. That was it. I snapped. And I’m just angry I didn’t do it sooner. ”

I paused in my pacing, shaking and sucking in deep breaths to calm my racing heart. It all spilled out, overflowed—the last decade of hurts escaping containment. After pushing things down, ignoring my feelings in favor of taking care of everyone else, I had hit my breaking point.

Josh stood silently, scrutinizing me. He was taking it; I hoped he was hearing it.

“I should have kicked you out years ago,” I snapped, regretting the words the second they left my mouth.

He pressed his lips together, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I wish you had. Because I would have gotten it together sooner. I would have been there for you and given you what you needed. What you deserved. What Ava and Jack deserved. I can’t get those years back, but I can change. And I have changed.”

It was his turn to pace, and I was momentarily distracted by the sight of his shoulders in his tight T-shirt. “You let me off the hook for years, Maggie. Instead of calling me out, instead of telling me what you were thinking or feeling, you shut down on me.”

“So this is my fault?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his face a mask of frustration. “Of course not. But communication is a two-way street. You never reacted. You didn’t get angry or confront me. How was I supposed to know how overwhelmed you were if you never fucking told me?”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and fought back the threat of tears.

He had hit a nerve. I couldn’t forgive him until I forgave myself for my contribution to the breakdown of our marriage.

“You’re right. And that’s on me. I avoid conflict; I’m a pleaser.

Trust me, it’s not fucking fun. I would love the ability to effortlessly draw boundaries, but I’m not built like that.

And you never listened to me when I tried.

You would come home late or go to work to avoid having these kinds of conversations about our marriage.

” I lowered my voice. “How many nights did you sleep in on-call rooms just to avoid me?”

He flinched like I had slapped him. I was right, but it didn’t change how much my words stung for us both.

But instead of backing down, instead of retreating, he charged at me like a raging bull.

He grabbed my shoulders, but his touch wasn’t rough.

It was careful, almost reverent. “Give me a chance. Put aside the old hurts. We can’t let them infect our future.

We have an opportunity here. If you want to take it.

” He brushed his lips against my cheek and murmured, “We can try again and do it right. I quit my job, I started therapy, I’m examining all the shit I’ve done—and I’m learning. ”

I nodded while fighting back tears. I was so angry and so exhausted.

“We can create the kind of marriage we want if we talk to each other and figure our shit out. Because you are the love of my life, Maggie. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”