Bethanne Strasser

“Stacy!” The front door banged shut.

Nerves unsettled her stomach. Would he tell her now?

“I'm back here,” she called as she crossed the bedroom to stand in the doorway. Too far to touch her, his eyes blazed like a torch, melting anything within range, heating the very center of her and sparking desire in her veins.

Her breath caught and her pulse pounded. She couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at her like that: hungry, tender, totally in love. She tilted her head in a silent question.

“I trust you.”

“Okay.” She straightened when he moved like a sleek cat towards her, the unsuspecting mouse.

So serious, his eyes never flickered from hers. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.” Her heartbeat went sluggish, her uncertainty grew. “You're scaring me.”

His hands reached for her, gripped her shoulders and pulled her so tight against him, she squeaked. His words brushed against her hair, “Remember our vows? Till death do us part.”

No. Her heart dropped and she struggled against his hold. “You jerk. You said you weren't dying.”

Ripping free, she swung wild, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Whoa.”

Locked in his grasp, fury ripped through her, blinded her as he worked to subdue her. She'd had enough though, enough of holding it all in, of expecting more, needing more and not getting it. “Let go of me so I can fight you.”

“I'm not going to fight you.”

He'd belittled their commitment, the sacrament of their marriage, when he should have been humbled by it, used it. He'd stolen any time they had left.

She twisted and yanked her wrist, breaking his grasp. “Of course not. You don't care enough to fight me. It's been enlightening, Nathan. How you've unexpectedly, and quite quickly, I might add, extricated me from your life.”

“I haven't—”

“Don't.” She cut him off, seeing his temper flare, fearing that only lies would come from him. “All these years and you want to throw it away—”

“You're the one who wants a break!”

“—because you can't see!”

“What?” They answered together, mirrored confusion, each breathing hard.

“I don't—”

“You know about—”

Stacy stopped first, the silence just as loud and ominous as their yelling. Yet for the first time since she met him, he seemed uncertain. His gaze, as they studied each other like two boxers in the ring, flicked left and her tall soldier's frame slumped in defeat. “I can't give you a break.”

“I don't want a break from us, you idiot.” She didn't hesitate, hearing the words she'd spoken earlier and realizing that he had misunderstood.

Nathan turned from her and a shiver climbed her spine.