Chapter Eighteen

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That night we went through the house with a signal detector and flushed out all the bugs and cameras.  Afterwards we sat facing each other over the kitchen table.  Now that we had privacy it was time to talk.
"How are you doing with all of this?" Mason asked.
I take a deep breath and feel all the words I haven't said come rising up my throat.  "I'm not sure I know.  When we first met you despised me.  No, no you did.  You pretended to sleep with that girl.  The wedding was a joke.  We had no vows.  I was literally just someone you were forced to be with and you definitely made me feel it.  No, don't interrupt.  You warmed up a bit when you saw that you'd be getting better, and we were okay for a few weeks.  Then Jessa comes back, and you abandon me completely, only coming back to me when you discovered her deceit.  Do you want me here at all?  I can go home after you're healed, or no my parents hate me.  I'll go live somewhere else."  I say all this with tears, gulping in my sorrow.  I was finally ready to face all this.  I was finally ready to call him on his crap behavior. 
He leans forward, putting his face in his hands, and just breaths for a bit.  My heart squeezes tighter and then I realize he's crying.  He takes in a big breath of air, and wipes his eyes, but the tears keep coming.  He finally looks at me.
"Even after all that, you're still willing to stay until I'm fully healed?"  He asks before looking down at the table.  There's a minute of silence before he speaks again.  I wait for him, not willing to placate him or make this conversation easier.  "I didn't think of you as a person, just an object in my way.  I don't know why.  I wasn't willing to open up after the accident.  I was mad at my family for forcing this on me, and I saw it as you forcing yourself on me.  I didn't want to get to know you.  Jessa coming back was confusing.  I felt like an idiot for not making sure she died.  I felt relieved that I hadn't let her get killed, and yes I felt some of that old spark.  Of course I did.  She's my mate, at least the one I'd planned on marrying.
I still didn't say anything.  That last part hurt to hear.  I was his wife.
"I don't think there are words strong enough to describe how bad I've screwed up, and not any to say how sorry I am.  Not anything like what you deserve.  Asking to start over seems shallow.  Asking you to forget everything and forgive me seem arrogant."  He stumbles from his chair on his own and kneels at my feet.  "But I've been wanting to do this for the last few days."  He pulls his hand from his pants pocket, and holds a fist in front of me.  "Marry me?  Let's do this again the right way, and I'll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you."  He opens his hand showing a ring.

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