Page 89 of The Restoration Program

“Darlene,” Nicole said. “It… it’s okay. Ryan and I can talk this out. You can go.”

“Nicole…” Darlene wavered.

“Really. Same time next week, okay?” Nicole looked hard at her, pleading for her to understand.

Hesitantly, Darlene grabbed her purse, but she couldn’t resist one more withering look in Ryan’s direction. “For the record, she stood up for herself just fine. She was badass. Don’t treat her like a child.”

Ryan had nothing to say to that. He simply locked the door behind her, then strode back into the living room. The tension in his hands was so taut, she worried that one unexpected sound would make his fingers snap around her like a bear trap.

“I’m fine, Ry,” she said, running a hand over his knuckles. “Really, it could have been worse.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He lifted her suddenly to look her in the eye. Her legs swung helplessly, her fingers digging hard into the back of his hand. “The whole reason she comes around in the first place is because you can’t stand coming to work with me. But you went out in public like it was nothing—even after what happened! Hell, you convinced me to get takeout and eat our wedding dinner on the fuckingcouch. What the fuck, Nicki?”

An invisible fist crushed the air from her lungs. She gaped, struggling for words. “I—oh. I’m so sorry, babe. I was just feeling a little braver today. It was impulsive, it has nothing to do with you.”

“Really? Because it’s starting to feel pretty personal. I thought you were so upset over all of this… You said you needed time. I thought we were working through all this scary shit together.”

“We are!” A sob choked out of her.

“What bothers you so much about being seen in public with me? Or do you not trust me?” His frown deepened. “After everything I’ve gone through for you—forthis—do you not trust that I’ll protect you?”

“Ryan, please. It’s not about that!” Nicole scooted forward on her knees to cup his face. He lowered his hands to wrench her out of reach, leaving her grasping at empty air.

“Then what? You couldn’t save thatbraveryfor me? No, hey—look at me.” Nicole snapped her eyes back up obediently. “You’ve only known this girl since the move. You and I have been together for five years! Wanna explain thatmath?”

“I didn’t think about it!”

“Well, next time I need you to think about it! Forme!”

Her hands flinched to her ears. “Too loud.”

He hissed out a long sigh and lowered his voice. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Ryan sank to a slouched seat on the couch and rested his forearms on his legs. Nicole buried her face in her hands and cried harder.

All my fault.

They wouldn’t be fighting a mere three days into married life if she hadn’t been so impulsive. They never used to fight like this. He’d never raised his voice this often. Rubbing her puffy eyes, Nicole looked up desperately.

“I’ll try going with you to the office again,” she said. “I know you want that. I don’t want you to give up more for me. I’ll try again. We can stay together as much as you want.” She hugged his thumb to her, begging his hands to close around her comfortingly. “I know you’ve got me, Ry, I-I’m sorry.”

His gaze softened, and he brought her to his neck. His grip was heavy and warm. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Please.”

Ryan swallowed. He held her there in unreadable silence; she couldn’t tell if he was sobering or festering deeper in resentment. “I don’t want her coming around here anymore. I don’t trust anyone else.”

“Wait… You mean like, at all?”

“At least not for now. Not for a while.”

“Ry…”

“We can talk about it after my parents visit. Please, Nicki. I’ve got too much on my mind right now.”

DAY EIGHTY-NINE