Rigsby

At ten o'clock, she opened the door. My beautiful, overwhelming baby.

I teetered at the immensity of her.

My knees felt shaky, so I fell on them.

Looking up at her, my hard-won resolve that had bolstered me all day emptied out. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't just force my way back into her life. She has to want it. I need to her to need me back. The strength and certainty drained from me. I was raw and scraped out.

So I cowered before her and begged.

"Please." One word described my whole wilted existence.

"Please, Grace. I know I did this without asking. I know you're scared and don't want the responsibility. I know I love you more than you love me. I understand every objection you made against us, but I'm begging you. Come back to me. I need you. I ache for you. I can't—," I broke off and inhaled sharply. The tears were coming. Damn them. I looked down at her feet, hoping to hide them.

"I can't anything. I can't sleep. I can't work. I can't eat. I can't smile. Fuck, baby, I can't even brush my teeth without missing you so damn much that I shattered my damn mirror." I had, too. Smashed it with an electric razor and felt nothing at its loss. I hated the coward who lived in it.

I looked up at her. My angel. My executioner. And I silently pleaded for my soul and my life. She had both. She was both.

Big, watchful eyes filled with tears of their own.

"Wayne…"

I swallowed, nodding.

"Get off your knees and come inside."

"Not until you tell me."

"Wayne? Please. Just come inside."

I unsteadily got to my feet and walked into her home. The door barely clicked into place before I was thrown up against it, Grace burrowing deep into my arms, her face pressed tightly into my chest.

A groan of relief from my lips. A heartrending sob from hers.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she moaned against me, clutching my shoulders, riveting her length against me.

"I'm sorry." Mine intertwined with hers. "Baby, forgive me. I'm so sorry."

"No," she yelped angrily, pulling back to look at me. "I left you. I hurt you and I left you. You had every right. Every right. Tiffany—,"

"I never slept with her, Grace. I couldn't. I kissed her, you were right about that. But it was empty. I just…I just wanted to forget everything. Crush all the pain until I killed it." My hands were everywhere on her, my forehead pressed against hers. "You're in my blood, Grace. You're everywhere I go. I need you or I'll just die slowly." I pull away an inch so I can see her clearly and make her know. "There's nothing of me that isn't you. And I let you go. You walked away and I didn't stop you." I rasped the words harshly, my self-recrimination knowing no bounds. "I didn't fight. You have every right to leave a man who doesn't fight for you."

She buried herself in me again and cried like her heart was breaking all over again. I held her to me. I willed my body to pry itself open and absorb every drop of sadness she pressed into me.

"Grace, please. You're killing me, here. Please tell me. I need to hear you say it."

She sniffed before she pulled back a little, her hands fisted tightly in my shirt. Her cheeks were wet. Her face was red. She made those little hiccupping noises children make when they cry. She was stunning.

When she spoke, her hiccups clipped her words.

"I want you b-back. So much, Wayne. I was stupid. And s-scared. But need you. And I m-miss you. I haven't slept one single night through since you left. I k-keep finding your stuff in my house and I end up crying f-for hours. Working with you is torture. L-living without is…I can't…"

She stopped in frustration at her inability to stop sniffling. I had never heard a more beautiful delivery in my life. She looked so angry, she couldn't find the words she wanted. Finally, she huffed and looked up at me.

"I can't anything, either. Not without you."

For the first time since she left me, I smiled and meant it. "Really?"

She nodded, her breath hitching. "Really. I love you so much it terrifies me."

I inhaled sharply. My God. This whole nightmare was actually over. Just like that. I tempt fate and lean in for a kiss. I taste her lips and moan happily. Home.

"I need you to make love to me, Grace."

Still teasing my lips with hers, she whispered, "You are love to me, baby."

She took my hand and showed me.