Leah
I let him continue.
“And I am sorry for the divorce,” he said. “You finally asked to leave, and I slowed it down because control felt safer than losing you. I told myself I was protecting Bella. I was protecting myself. I made you wait again.”
I held his gaze. “Yes. You did.”
“I am sorry for the marriage,” he said. “For every dinner where I was physically there and emotionally somewhere else. For every time you handled the house, the calendar, the family, Bella, and me without me noticing the labor in it. For making you ask for basic things like they were favors.”
I swallowed.
“For sleeping beside you and still making you lonely,” he said.
My eyes burned.
Damn him.
That one found the exact place.
He kept his voice steady, but his hands had tightened together.
“I am sorry I
