The beginning of forever

37 - You've got to be kidding me

Book 2: So, this is Forever

37 – You've got to be kidding me

Freen's POV

Then I dared to be brave, I move slightly to her back and wrapped my hands at her waist and slightly side back hugged her. "I miss you, baby" I whisper softly on her ear, feeling the warmth of her presence against me.

My heart raced in my chest as I awaited her response, preparing myself for the possibility of rejection. However, to my pleasant surprise, she leaned back into my embrace, her body melding with mine as she rested against me. It was a small victory, but in that moment, it meant everything.

A rush of relief and joy flooded over me, and I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs to celebrate this simple yet significant connection with my wife. The fact that she didn't push me away filled me with a renewed sense of hope and love.

I relished the moment, cherishing every second of our embrace. I seized the opportunity to express my deep affection, whispering, "Forgive me, baby. I love you so much," as I planted soft kisses on her exposed shoulders.

She responded with a contented hum, which warmed my heart. While I longed to hear her say those words back to me, I reminded myself to be patient. "Take it slow, Freen," I silently advised myself, understanding that healing and rebuilding trust would require time and patience.

"Are you tired, Freen?" she asked, her voice tinged with exhaustion as she rested her head on my shoulders.

"For tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge the depth of her weariness. "Hmmmm, not really, but if you are, we can certainly go home."

"That's not what I meant," she said softly, straightening up and leaning against the railing, her gaze fixed on the distant lights. I sensed a weight in her words, a heaviness that mirrored the ache in my chest.

I joined her by the railing, facing the gala but feeling the weight of her unspoken words. "Then what are you trying to say, Beck?" I asked, my voice tinged with concern as I searched her face for answers.

"Even though you've apologized and explained yourself, I haven't fully come around. Do you feel tired of me?" Her question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fears and doubts.

"No," I replied, the pain of rejection still fresh in my mind. "I'm hurt by the rejections, feeling like I've failed you. I'm tired of pouring my heart out only to feel it shatter. I am human after all."

Turning to face her, I gently pulled her closer, desperate for a connection that seemed to be slipping away. "I understand you, I've hurt you, and maybe I deserve this. But, Baby, I will never get tired of you. Your emotions, your actions... they may hurt, but they don't define you."

Tears glistened in her eyes, mirroring the ache in my own heart. "I'm sorry, Freen. I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking with sorrow.

As Becky's tears fell, my heart clenched with a mixture of pain and understanding. I reached out to gently wipe away her tears, my touch tender yet heavy with unspoken emotions.

"You don't need to apologize," I whispered, my voice strained with the weight of her words.

I pulled her into a comforting embrace, but this time, the warmth felt cold, the closeness a reminder of the growing distance between us. As we stood there on the balcony, the gala's lively sounds seemed hollow, drowned out by the echoes of Becky's exhaustion and my own silent agony.

"I have to... I'm sorry, Freen," she continued, her voice quivering with resignation.

I let go of the embrace and looked into her eyes, trying to mask the pain threatening to consume me. "What... what do you mean, Beck?" I managed to utter, my voice cracking.